Fifth Ave 01 - Fifth Avenue (64 page)

She opened the case.

Inside were several dark green folders--and every one of them was empty.
 
Stunned, Diana fell into her seat.
 
“There gone,” she said.
 
“He took them.”

“Took what?” Jack asked.

“The files,” Diana said impatiently.
 
“The files on the takeover of WestTex.
 
The files that outlines our entire deal with Iran.
 
Eric took them.”
 
She slammed the briefcase shut, reached for one of the phones in front of her and dialed the front desk.
 
Her heart was pounding.

While she waited for the line to be answered, she said to Jack:
 
“While Eric was in the hospital, Louis Ryan sent him dozens of roses.
 
At the time, I thought he was going to offer Eric a job.”
 
She nodded toward the briefcase.
 
“Now I know what that job was.”

A man answered the line.

“Billy,” she said.
 
“Diana Crane.
 
I need you to answer a few questions for me.”

“Of course, Ms. Crane.”

“Yesterday morning, when I left, you were on duty, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“I need to know if Mr. Parker left the building while I was gone.”

The man was silent for a moment.
 
He cleared his throat and said, “He did.”

Diana closed her eyes.
 
Yesterday, when she returned from the market and found her apartment empty, she assumed Eric was in his own apartment, surveying the damage by himself.
 
Sensing he wanted to be alone, Diana started lunch.
 
And then came the call from George Redman, telling her the news about Celina’s death and asking her if she could come to an emergency board meeting.
 
In her haste to leave, she’d knocked over two bags of groceries.

At the time, Diana hadn’t given a second thought to Eric’s absence.
 
Now, she knew that he hadn’t been in his apartment at all.

“Did he say where he was going?” she asked.

“He didn’t,” the man said.
 
“But if it’ll help, I can tell you that wherever he was going, he went by limousine.”

The man added this information so smoothly, her instincts as a lawyer became acute.
 
She knew he wanted her to know something she wouldn’t know without his help. Glancing at Jack, she said, “Limousine?
 
Did he order the car around himself?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“And I assume he returned by the same car?”

“He did,” the man said.
 
She could sense a mix of eagerness and caution in the man’s voice.
 
He’s holding back
, she thought.
 
Go easy.

“Was Eric alone?” she asked.

“He was,” the man said.
 
“But he wasn’t in your apartment long before he called the front desk, told me that he was expecting some friends and to just show them up when they arrived.”

Diana looked at Jack.
 
“Who were these friends, Billy?
 
Did you recognize them?”

The silence that followed wavered like heat from a city street.

“I didn’t recognize any of them,” he said quietly.

In that moment, Diana knew he was lying

“Billy,” she said carefully.
 
“It’s very important that I know who came to my apartment.
 
It’s very important that you tell me if you recognized anyone.
 
Please tell me.
 
There is no need to be frightened.
 
Your name will never be mentioned.
 
If you know anything, you’ve got to tell me.”

Diana could almost feel the man making his decision, weighing whatever odds he felt needed to be weighed.
 
And then he spoke.
 
“I only recognized one of them,” he said, his voice stronger than it was moments before.
 
“And I’ll be damned if he’s going to intimidate me any longer.”

Diana was riveted.
 
She leaned forward in her seat. “What are you talking about, Billy?
 
Who’s trying to intimidate you?”

“Mario De Cicco,” the man said.
 
“The Mob boss.
 
He and his friends came just after Mr. Parker’s first guest left with all those folders.
 
He told me that if anyone learned he was at Redman Place, he’d make me and my family regret it for the rest of our lives.”

*
 
*
 
*

From his van on 59th Street, Spocatti waited for Diana Crane to hang up her telephone before he removed his headphones and sat in thought.
 
He carefully dissected the possibilities he now was faced with, tossed around a few ideas and then made his decision.

He rose from his seat at the rear of the van and moved forward, toward the front of the van, where he reached for his cell phone and dialed Louis Ryan’s private number.

While he waited for Ryan to answer to the line, he listened to the traffic rushing past him outside.
 
It occurred to him that this assignment was drawing to an end.
 
His time in Manhattan was growing short.
 
For his own safety, for his own protection, he knew that he would soon have to implement a series of plans that would not only alter the future Louis Ryan planned for George Redman, his family and the Redman empire, but which also would assure himself of a safe departure.

While Redman and his family would indeed die after the fall of Redman International, it wouldn’t be as Louis Ryan planned.

Ryan answered the line.
 
Spocatti told him everything that had happened during the last twenty minutes in Diana Crane’s apartment.
 
He told him what had to be done.
 
It was a moment before Louis responded.
 
“And you’re certain this will work,” he said.

“Absolutely certain?” Spocatti said.
 
He was delighted by the tension in Ryan’s voice.
 
“There are no certainties, Louis.
 
But I can promise you this--if you want Redman International to crumble, if you want Redman to burn for what he did to your wife, then this is the way to go.
 
There’s no other choice.”
  

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

“Eric was murdered,” Diana said.
 
“I’m sure of it.”

Jack sat at the edge of Diana’s desk.
 
As she told him the details of her conversation with Billy, the doorman, he couldn’t help feeling that they were at the threshold of a series of revelations that ultimately would lead them to the person responsible for Celina’s death.

“Where is Billy now?” he asked.

“In the lobby.
 
He goes on break in fifteen minutes. I asked him to come here when he clocks out.”

“You don’t think he’ll run, do you?”

“I doubt it,” she said.
 
“Now, more than ever, he needs help.
 
We’re it.”

Satisfied, Jack watched her reach inside her desk for a pen and pad of paper.
 
She began to write.
 
“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Before we call George, I want to have my facts straight, so give me a minute to write them down and we’ll talk when I’m finished.”

Jack left the desk and moved to the window across the room that overlooked Central Park.
 
The sky was darkening, rain was threatening.
 
The wind blew smartly through the trees, causing their leaves to turn upwards, exposing a paler shade of green.
 

Diana dropped the pen onto the desk.

“Why?” she said.
 
“Why would Mario De Cicco want to kill Eric?
 
It makes no sense.”

Jack looked away from the window.
 
The last time he heard mention of Mario De Cicco’s name was the night Eric was beaten.
 
He told Diana this.

“Celina and Leana were there?
 
Why didn’t they do something?”

“I assume it was because you were handling the situation.”

“Handling the situation?” Diana said.
 
“I’d just been beaten.
 
I was no more handling the situation than they were.”
 
And then it occurred to her how odd it was that Leana was there.
 
“Was Leana alone?” she asked.

“She was with two men.”

“What did they look like?”

“That was a while ago, Diana.”

She stared at him.

“I don’t know,” he said.
 
“A couple of brutes.
 
Black pants, black shirts.”

Diana’s mind flashed back to that evening.
 
The two men who burst into Eric’s bedroom were wearing black.

“When Celina called out her sister’s name, they led Leana away,” he said.
 
“It was then that Celina said Mario De Cicco’s name.”

Diana leaned back in her chair.
 
“Two years ego, Leana had an affair with De Cicco.
 
She came to my office one afternoon and told me that she was in love with him.
 
I’ve always liked Leana.
 
And I’ve always hated how George treats her.
 
I think she senses this.
 
We aren’t friends, but over the years, she would ask for my advice, or she’d drop in to say hello.
 
I don’t know why she ever confided in me about her affair with De Cicco, but she did.
 
Maybe she needed a sounding board.
 
She doesn’t have many friends.”

“Was De Cicco in love with her?”

“No idea,” Diana said.
 
“I told her to stay away from him, but she wouldn’t listen to me, as if that’s a surprise.
 
Leana doesn’t listen to anybody.”

“Do you think she’s behind this?”

“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Diana said.
 
“Yesterday, Eric told me that he and Leana almost slept with one another the night of Redman International’s opening.
 
He told me that someone must have tipped Celina off to them, because she walked into the room and caught them in bed together.”
 
She was quiet for a moment.
 
“If Eric thought that person was Leana, there’s no telling what he’d do to her--or what he did to her, for that matter.”

“Like threatening her?”

“Maybe.”

“If he did and she went to De Cicco for help, there’s no telling what he’d do to Eric.”

It sounded plausible, but Diana knew better than to work on whims.
 
“It’s a possibility,” she said.
 
“And that’s all we’ve got--a possibility.
 
At the very least, George should know what we know.”
 
She glanced at her watch.
 
“Billy should be here in a few minutes.
 
Let’s call George now.”