Double Jeopardy (22 page)

Kramer withdrew his lighter from his pocket and flicked it. The flame cast a dim glow through the darkened room. “Fine. You wanted to chew me out, you’ve chewed me out. I suppose I gave you an openin’. Now can I get on with my job?”

“You don’t have a job, Mr. Kramer.”

“
What
?”

“I am relieving you of your duties in this matter. In fact, I am relieving you of all responsibilities for my organization.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Can’t? I already have. You are no longer connected with us, Mr. Kramer. Whatever tenuous connection you once may have claimed is now and forever severed.”

“I was workin’ for this family before you were—”

“None of that matters, Mr. Kramer. I’m in charge now. And I have given you your walking papers. So walk.”

“You’re serious!”

“Very.” He stepped closer to Kramer. “If I see you around here again, I’ll have you killed.”

Kramer stalked toward the door, his teeth clenched, his fists balled up in rage. That explained why the room was so goddamn dark, he realized. Mario must have bodyguards in here. Otherwise he would never dare speak like that.

Kramer slammed the door behind him. Fucking pissant. The Outfit had shot straight downhill since Mario took over. Now they all wore business suits and pretended they were Wall Street tycoons. They didn’t know who they were anymore. They didn’t think they needed him.

Mario was just trying to scare him, Kramer told himself. He just wanted Moroconi and Byrne brought in. And this was his way of ensuring that Kramer worked night and day to make that happen. Bastard.

Fine. He’d bring in Byrne. He had hoped to do it with a minimum of fuss, but since Mario was in such a goddamn hurry, he’d expedite matters. He’d continue with his main plan—tracking Byrne—but he’d put his contingency plan into action as well. One or the other was bound to produce results.

After all, Byrne might be able to hide himself. But he couldn’t hide all his friends, too.

T
RAVIS ASKED CAVANAUGH TO
pull over to a relatively unpopulated QuikTrip.

“Sure you understood what Crescatelli told you about the blue box?” he asked.

“Well enough. But make it quick, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.” They got out of the car and walked to the phone booth. Cavanaugh closed the glass door and opened the blue box.

“This will take a few minutes,” she said, “while I line up eight or ten trunks. You stand guard.”

“I can do that.” Travis watched as she dialed an 800 number randomly chosen from the phone book. She did seem to know what she was doing, and for that he was grateful. He hadn’t absorbed enough of Crescatelli’s lecture even to feign competence. He was so absorbed in watching Cavanaugh work that he didn’t notice the woman with the poodle until she was directly under his nose.

“ ’Scuse me,” she said. “Can I get to the phone, please?”

Travis could barely make out her face—it was buried beneath layer upon layer of makeup. She was chewing gum and her hair was in curlers. Now that Travis noticed, the poodle was in curlers, too.

“I need to use the phone,” she said.

“It’s occupied.”

“There’s a three-minute limit,” she said, cracking her gum for emphasis. She pointed to a sign on the phone-booth door.

“I’m sorry,” Travis said. “This is very important.”

“So is my call! If I don’t call Maurice, he’ll cancel our appointment. Then poor Sugar Pie and I will have to wear our curlers all week.”

“Maybe there’s a phone inside you can use.”

“There isn’t. I already asked.”

“Well, I’m afraid this one is tied up.”

“This is an outrage! I shop here regularly. I’m probably their best customer.”

Travis assumed that meant she bought her cosmetics here. “Ma’am, if you’ll please go away, I’ll give you five bucks for your trouble.”

She slapped the money away. “What do I look like, a streetwalker?”

Travis decided not to comment.

“I don’t want your money. I want the phone. I have a constitutional right to use the phone. And by God, I intend to!” She pivoted on one foot, dog in tow, and stomped back into the store.

Travis saw her stop at the cash register and complain bitterly to the clerk. Just Travis’s luck—he had to run into the only woman in Dallas who thought she had a constitutional right to talk on the phone.

Cavanaugh was punching in numbers, and the red light on the blue box was still glowing. Apparently she hadn’t gotten to a line she considered sufficiently safe yet. And if they disconnected the line now, she would have to start all over again.

The woman with the poodle reemerged from the store with an extremely reluctant clerk. Thank goodness I’m wearing the sunglasses and hat, Travis thought. By now, he had probably made the tabloids, and this woman undoubtedly read them every day.

“Uh, pardon me,” the clerk said, shuffling his feet. “There’s a three-minute limit on the phone.”

“There are two of us,” Travis said, gesturing toward Cavanaugh. “So we get six minutes combined.”

“You’ve been on the phone for more than six minutes,” the clerk observed. “But actually, you get no time, because you aren’t customers, because you haven’t bought anything.”

So the clerk was a literalist. Swell. Travis searched his brain for a new tack; the situation was becoming desperate. Ridiculous, but desperate.

“Ma’am, how long has your dog had poodle herpacocci?”

The woman looked at Travis blank-faced. “Had what?”

“Poodle herpacocci. Well, the full medical name would be”—he took a deep breath—“streptocardioencephalodoggy herpacocci, but I don’t see any reason to get bogged down in a lot of Latin, do you?”

The woman appeared stricken. “You think my Sugar Pie has a disease?”

“Surely you’ve noticed.” Travis bent down beside the dog. “The bloodred eyes, the discolored toes, the waxy quality of the coat. Oh yes, it’s a clear-cut case.”

“Are you a—”

“Yes, of course. Am I to understand that this dog is not undergoing treatment?”

“Why, no—”

“My God, woman!” He glared at her accusingly. “Some people shouldn’t be allowed to have pets.”

The woman made a choking sound, her hand clasped against her throat. “Sugar Pie … if I had only known …” She cradled the dog in her arms.

“You need to get that dog to a veterinary hospital immediately, ma’am.” Travis made a snorting noise. “You’ll probably want to wait until after you make your phone call.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll go right now.” She started toward her car, then stopped. “Wait a minute. Can’t you treat him?”

“Of course not,” Travis said. “I’m using the phone.”

He stepped into the glass booth with Cavanaugh and closed the door. Confused and concerned, the woman carried her dog to her car and sped away.

A large smile playing on his lips, the clerk returned to his cash register.

“Holyfield and Associates.”

“Hello, Gail?”

“Travis! Is that you?”

“Yes. Thank goodness you’re still at the office. Now, stay calm—”

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Travis, what’s happened to you?”

Thanks for staying calm. “I’m in a lot of trouble, Gail.”

“I know! I keep reading the awful details in the newspaper.”

Great. All my sins revealed. “You really shouldn’t believe—”

“And those pictures of you and that … little girl. I had no idea you were so
lonely,
Travis. You know, if you had just told me …”

Travis felt his face flushing. “Gail, those pictures were trumped up. I didn’t really … you know.”

“You didn’t?” She sounded almost disappointed.

“Gail, I called to give you a message—go on vacation.”

“Vacation? I don’t think I can—”

“Gail, you haven’t taken a vacation for years. Cancun is a paradise this time of year. Go.”

“Well, I’ll have to check my bank account. …”

“Good news. Dan is paying for this one.”

“He is?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t know it yet, but he is. Even if it has to come out of my salary. “Think of this as an assignment, Gail. Be out of town before sunrise.”

“But
why
?”

“I don’t want to go into it on the phone, but it’s best for all concerned. Trust me.”

She paused. “All right. I’ll go.”

Thank you. He was glad to be spared the explanations. “Now connect me with Dan.”

“I don’t know if he’s free—”

“Tell him his favorite fugitive is on the line. I think he’ll take the call.”

“All right, hold on.”

A few seconds later he heard: “Travis? Where the hell are you?”

“It’s best we don’t go into that. …”

“What do you think you’re doing, running all over the city, leaving a trail of dead bodies?”

“I’m sorry if I’ve created any inconvenience—”

“
Inconvenience
? I’ve spent the last two days fielding phone calls about you! My God, I’ve never dealt with a disaster of this proportion. My firm has never been linked with organized crime or … prostitution! And they say you’ve killed some men, Travis.”

“Well, I haven’t.”

“You need help, Travis. You can’t handle this on your own.”

“I’m not … entirely on my own—”

“Does that mean Cavanaugh is with you?”

That caught him off guard. “What makes you think—”

“That’s Charles Hagedorn’s idea. Cavanaugh disappeared about twenty-four hours after you did. Didn’t show up for some meetings today with Washington bigwigs. Put the U.S. Attorney’s Office into a frenzy.”

“So why would the judge connect that to me?”

“Well, it’s quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say? The attorneys on both sides of a high-profile case disappearing? Just after the defendant does. Hagedorn’s notion is that you kidnapped her to prevent the Moroconi case from being tried in absentia.”

“That’s the lamest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“I agree, but that hasn’t stopped the judge from spreading it around town. Your reputation is going into the dumper in a hurry, Travis. I’ve managed to keep the judge from filing a bar grievance until we can sort this out, but your failure to appear is not helping anything. Did I tell you the judge issued a contempt citation against you?”

“Yup.”

“And
still
you won’t appear? My God, you’re in deliberate contempt of court. You might as well take your law license and tear it into tiny little pieces!”

Travis closed his eyes. This was not helping. “Dan, I want you and Gail to leave town.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“You heard me. I already told Gail to take a vacation. At your expense. Take it out of my salary-deferral fund. I’ll sign the papers when I can. And I want you to leave, too.”

“And who would run this office?”

“I don’t care. Shut it down if you have to. Just get out of there.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m afraid these killers will try to get at me through you.”

The silence on the other end of the line was heavy and protracted. Travis could almost hear him deliberating. “All right. If you want us to make ourselves scarce, we will. But let’s all go together. Let me meet you somewhere safe.”

“No can do,” Travis said. “It’s too risky.”

“We’ll go directly to the airport.”

“No. If I leave Dallas, I’ll never get to the bottom of this. Besides, I’m trying to get you out of danger, and traveling with me would have the opposite effect.”

“Travis—”

“That’s my final word, Dan. Things are bad already, and I think they’re about to get worse. I want you and Gail out.”

Dan sighed, resigned. “Fine. We’ll go.”

“Thank you. Oh, and can you do me another favor?”

“I live to please,” he said wearily.

“Check on Staci. If she can’t leave town by herself, I’m going to ask her to meet you. You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”

“Of course. If you’ll promise to come see me as soon as you can.”

“Thanks, Dan. I owed you before, but now, even more so. I won’t forget this.”

He disconnected the line.

“You’re pushing your luck,” Cavanaugh said, tapping her watch. “Don’t talk so long next time.”

Travis mumbled an incomprehensible answer and dialed another number.

F
ORTUNATELY, SHE ANSWERED THE
phone herself.

“Hello, Staci?”

“Oh my gosh. Travis? Is that really you?”

“Yes. Now listen—”

“Travis, where are you?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Travis, you’ve been in all the papers.”

“I know, honey. Listen—”

“Travis … those things they’re saying … They aren’t true, are they?”

“Of course not, honey—”

“Aunt Marnie says they are. She says she was always suspicious of you. She says it isn’t natural for a guy your age to be so interested in a teenage girl.”

That never prevented Aunt Marnie from accepting the money I gave her, Travis thought. He wondered if any of it got spent on Staci. “Sweetheart, listen to me. This is very important.”

“I knew something was wrong when you asked Doc and Jameel to break into your own apartment. Someone’s trying to hurt you, right?”

“Staci, just listen—”

“Tell me where you are, Travis. I’m coming.”

“
No
! Absolutely not! Now listen to me.” He heard her steady, expectant breathing as she quieted. “You’re right, people are trying to hurt me, and I’m afraid they might try to get at me through my friends and”—he swallowed—“loved ones. So I want you to leave Dallas.”

“Leave Dallas? Where would I go?”

“What about your uncle Jacko? In Oregon.”

“Uncle Jacko? He’s not even a real uncle.”

“Can you think of anyone else?”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Jacko it is, then. Dan will make your travel arrangements.” He gave her the phone number. “If you need any money, use that credit card I gave you last year for emergencies.”

“What if Aunt Marnie won’t let me go?”

Travis swore silently. This was advice he hated to give. “Go anyway,” he said softly.

“Okay. Wow.”

“Are you writing all this down?”

“I can remember.”

He only hoped that was true. But at times her attention disorder was extremely pronounced—her powers of concentration were low and she couldn’t be expected to retain anything. “This is very important, honey. Don’t mess around. And don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”