Perfectly Bad: a bad boy romance (19 page)

“Of all people, Agostini, I don’t expect you to start getting legalistic on me.” He sounded pouty, resentful.

Of all people
. Agostini wondered whether Jay would prefer Agostini’s more usual means of problem-solving. Calhoun and Callaghan could be with him in no time at all. He gripped the phone.

“What happened, Jay?” His mind raced. “What’s happened between last night and this morning?” And before Clemson replied, he saw it.

“I had a call from an associate of yours. A Mr. Markov?” Yvgeny. “He said there was some risk that we hadn’t been made aware of.”

The risk that Yvgeny might not like you completing on the deal.
Agostini said, “Look, let’s talk this through, Jay. I’ll be with you in about an hour and a half.”

“No, Agostini, I’m–”

“Sorry, Jay, you’re cutting out. If you can hear me, I’ll see you later this morning.” And he hung up. He breathed deeply. “Callaghan, get over to Clemson right now.”

“I’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes, boss. I’ll make sure he’s waiting when you want to get around there.”

“Come with me, Callaghan. We’ll get around to see the others.”

Princess was watching him. She’d figured out the big picture. “Let me help.”

He stopped. “Okay, what do you think you can do?” It wasn’t a challenge, just a simple question. “Have you got something that our investors might be persuaded by?”

“I might have, Pierce. Leave me their numbers.”

He was skeptical. “Something they might fear more than Yvgeny?”

“I think it’s worth a try.”

“Okay. Do you need a car?”

“No, I’ll use cabs. They’re easier to park.”

He looked at her like he hadn’t really seen her at all up to now. And yet he had. For the whole night, he had been awake and trying to keep the smell of her fresh.

“Before you go,” she said, “better leave me your cell number, too.”

What the hell does she think she can do?
he wondered. He thought that he probably should stop her, but what if she did have an idea? And what if his approach didn’t fly as fast or as well as he needed it to?

The whole purpose in Yvgeny’s coming to the launch last night was to have enough people to tell him who the investors were. That, Pierce realized, was all that he needed to do.

Arthur Cane wouldn’t have been much good to him but, like Dino said, Russians are chess players. He would have got to some others, too. A waitress maybe, a barman. Even one of the croupiers.

Cane could have been a sacrifice. A knight to distract the opposition while pawns did the job. Would his Princess do the job of a pawn? Or even of a queen?

It surprised him to notice that he’d thought of her as
his
Princess.

Princess almost had her club back. She’d kept her part of the deal, and she knew that she could make Agostini keep to his.
 

She wasn’t about to let anything or anyone stop her from getting Hotsteppa’s back. Not her father or his gambling creditors, not Pierce Agostini, not any of the investors, not even Yvgeny.

Agostini and Calhoun had left. Princes wanted to talk to the dancers. She realized that she didn’t even know what rooms any of them were in. No matter. She washed up Agostini’s omelet pan and dried it. A big steel serving spoon on the rack was what she needed.

She beat the back of the pan with the back of the spoon as hard as she could a couple dozen times, like a dinner gong in an old stately home.

She walked around the big main room banging the pan, then she shouted, “Girls? You have to get out here and help me.”

Then she banged the pan some more. The girls began to straggle out from rooms Princess didn’t even know were there.

“I need your help,” Princess told all of them, “very urgently.”
 

Toni came out grumpy. “You didn’t have to make all that fucking noise.” Even with makeup smeared all over her face and her hair looking like she put it on backwards, she still looked like she could be on the cover of a magazine.

“You know what you girls look like right now?”

Toni nodded, gravely. “And I don’t appreciate being hauled out like this.”

“Exactly.” Princess said. “If I’d been any more considerate, you’d all have spent the next half-hour fixing your hair and your faces. I need your help, and I need it right now.”

Toni raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. “Fair enough. What is it you need?”

“Were any of you keeping company with the investors last night?” The girls all looked at each other, still bleary. Their frowns seemed to say,
What is she talking about?

Mona said, “We all were. It was what Dino asked us along for.”

Princess sighed with relief. “That’s perfect. Grab some coffee and get around the counter. We’ve got work to do.”

While Calhoun drove, Agostini called all of the other investors. Each one of them was evasive, hard to reach, or unavailable. It angered Agostini, but it was exactly what he expected.

“Boss,” Calhoun said, negotiating the Grand Cherokee around Columbus Circle, “when we get with Mr. Clemson, are we going to be using diplomacy or force?”

“Clemson’s had Callaghan staring in his face for about forty minutes. He will have considered all the ways to say ‘no’ to us and their immediate implications. I think he’ll be ready to ask what we want and how we’d like it wrapped. We can just wait until he makes an offer with cherries on it. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I’m thinking it’s going to take us seeing all of the investors to put this straight. One at a time.”

“I’m sure that it will.”

“So, if we can do it with diplomacy, then all well and good. But if we have to put the arm on one or two of them, then word could get to the others.”

“Yeah. Could get messy.”

“Sure, and any of those that hear about it, they’ll be thinking to themselves, ‘Well, which of them should I be
more
afraid of, Yvgeny or Agostini?’ You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. These guys, they’re bankers. They may do horrifically bad things to hundreds or even thousands of people any day of the week, but they never have to look any one of them in the eye.”

“No,” Calhoun said, “and they’ve no experience of being on the thin end of it, either.”

Agostini nodded. “Apt to be unpredictable,” he said. “I don’t know what we can do about it, but it’s good to keep in mind.”

The morning traffic was frustratingly slow. Agostini admired Calhoun’s ability to stay cool. Driving in this with the day they had ahead, Agostini would not have been calm.

“Boss, do you think that Yvgeny has been to visit Clemson, or has he just spoken to him on the phone or on Skype, or whatever?”

“I don’t know. Clemson’s not an early riser, so my guess would be that Yvgeny wouldn’t have had time to get to him, unless he dragged him out of bed.”

“So, how could he have made such a powerful impression on them? What could he have said to make them all suddenly get all shy like that?”

“I thought about that. If the situation were reversed, I think what I would do, the fastest thing, would be to call and say something scary about the legitimacy or the credibility of the deal. Make them believe that their money’s at risk.”

“Ah, that would make sense.”

“So then, my guess would be that he’d aim to buy them out.”

Calhoun nodded. “But on the cheap.”

“Naturally.”

Calhoun thought a moment. “So their money really would be at risk.”

“Sure. At risk of Yvgeny gouging it.”

Calhoun worked the car across the traffic to get off Broadway. “Making them a kind of fire-sale offer, you mean.”

“Exactly. ‘Take this low-ball now, or your money could be gone by tomorrow.’ That would spook them, all right.”
 

Even avoiding the approach to Times Square, they were still making slow progress in fits and starts. “Now,” Calhoun cleared his throat, “that little girl, Princess.”

His tone was different. Agostini knew that whatever it was he had in mind, he wasn’t comfortable talking about it. It was the same feeling he got from Calhoun and Callaghan earlier where they wouldn’t meet his eyes. He knew that it was about him and Princess. He thought it was kind of funny.

Calhoun went on, “She’s got a head on her shoulders, knows what she’s about right enough. Do you think she might have an angle on this thing?”

“I don’t think we can count on it,” Agostini told him, “but it is possible that she can help.”

“Would you know what she has in mind?”

“I have a guess, but I don’t know for sure.”

”It’s a shame one of us couldn’t stay with her.”

“Yeah, I thought that, too. What we have to do, though, it could take you, me, and Callaghan.”

“She’s a bright kid, that one, wouldn’t you say, boss?” There he was again, just like he was around breakfast time, taking care to not watch Agostini, avoiding his eye as he answered.

“She’s bright, sure, Calhoun. What are you getting at?”

“Well, I’d say that you’ve enjoyed having her around. Would that not be so?”

Agostini looked hard at Calhoun. “Where are you heading with this? What the hell is in your mind?

“Oh, nothing.”

Agostini was impatient. “Spit it out, man.”

Calhoun hesitated. They got stuck at a red light. He took a breath and said, “Well, it’s just this. With her being a hostage and all, I’m thinking it could be time soon to be handing her back. I don’t know what’s in your mind at all now, but those are my thoughts and, well, you know. How are you going to feel about that?”

The light changed and they moved off. Two blocks along, Calhoun made a left.
 

Agostini thought,
“How are you going to feel?” Is everybody but me going mad?
He said, “Calhoun, I’m going to feel like it’s time for the next thing. Now, can we concentrate on what we have to do and get some control of the business in hand? There’s a parking space right there. Park up. Clemson’s apartment is right around that corner.”

Princess called Trixibelle. “Hey, hon, how you doing?”

“Princess. Great to hear from you. I’m just fine, thank you, darling. You were looking good last night, I got to say.”

“Thank you, honey. Now, I need to ask you for some help.”

“Sure, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”

Princess arranged to meet Trixibelle for coffee. She picked a little coffee bar near to Professor Miflin’s office in NYU. She wore one of the silky print dresses she’d bought with Pierce’s card. Soft, good with her curves, and alluring without being tarty.

When she stepped out into the bright lobby, Mikey greeted her with a smile and he asked if there was anything he could do for her.

“Thanks, Mikey, no. I’m just going to find a cab to take me down to Washington Square.”

“Ma’am, you just wait right there.” He strode out through the automatic glass doors and stood on a small brick dais. Almost immediately, he stretched up his arm and blew a whistle.

A cab rolled up to the entrance, and when it stopped, Mikey held the back door open for her. He seemed genuinely pleased to be able to help and he smiled as he waved her off.
 

On the way downtown, she called all of the other girls who she had seen with the investors, leaving Jayleen until last. Jayleen was the girl who Cane had been lavishing his extravagant attentions upon.

Trixibelle was in the coffee shop waiting already, her enthusiasm no doubt fired by the handsome fee that Princess had dangled. After they talked a few minutes, Princess waited while Trixibelle left to go see the professor.

When she got back, not too long after, Trixibelle was beaming. Princess got her to describe everything that happened and exactly what the professor had said. Then she squeezed Trixibelle’s hand as she left to hail another cab.

On the way to meet the next girl, she called Agostini.

“Professor Miflin is back on board.”

“Princess, that’s great. How did you do it?”

“Well, the professor had been afraid that he’d committed his money into a scam.”

“Pretty much what I expected,” Agostini said.

“He wasn’t too hard to reassure, though. Turns out he’s a lot more afraid of his wife than he is of losing his money, anyway.”

Agostini was quiet. Then, in a voice that was low like a whistle, he said, “You are a devious and unscrupulous woman, Princess.”

“From you, Pierce Agostini, I take that as a compliment.”

Agostini, Calhoun, and Callaghan stood in the blazing sun on limestone steps by a heavy—and intricate—wood and glass door. The plummy voice on the intercom said, “I am sorry, but Mr. Tranter is not at home just now. Perhaps you could put your card in the mailbox.”

Agostini took out his cellphone and called. Tranter picked up straight away. “Aaron? It’s Pierce Agostini. I’m trying to get in to see you, and they’re telling me you’re out.”

“Ah, yes. I’m at lunch until three, at the Four Seasons.”

“Tranter,” Pierce said, “I’m calling you on your house phone.”

They waited a couple of minutes and Tranter came on the intercom. “It’s really not a good time, Mr. Agostini. I am most awfully sorry.” Agostini couldn’t see a security camera, but he knew there would be one, probably up in the corner above the buzzer.

He looked up into the corner. “This really won’t take a minute, and I guarantee that it will be advantageous to you, Aaron. I believe that you’ve been misinformed, but I can show you conclusively that your fears are unfounded.”

Tranter buzzed them in without a word. In the elevator, Callaghan said, “
Can
you show him conclusively that his fears are unfounded?”

“If I can’t, then we may have to show him a more clear and present danger.”

They were met by a butler in a white, starched shirt and tails, who showed them down a wood-paneled corridor and through a door.

Tranter stood behind a huge writing desk in his book-lined study, leaning on the polished desk top. Agostini stood with Calhoun and Callaghan behind him.

“Mr. Agostini.” Tranter couldn’t speak without bustling stationery on the desk, looking down and up again. “I’ve been made aware of some troubling facts. Facts about your organization and about the property of the some of the land deeds.”