Unnatural Acts (20 page)

Dink showed him his driver’s license.

“Take me a minute,” the man said. “I gassed it up when it came in.” Ten minutes later, the man was back with Dink’s BMW convertible. “You’re all paid up,” the man said, handing him the keys.

Dink gave him a twenty and pulled out of the station. It felt good to be out and behind the wheel. He headed for New Haven. He drove to his dorm and found the custodian.

“Hi, Paul. Can you let me into my room? I’ve lost the key.”

“Hey, Mr. Brennan. The boss said you’d left school, so I boxed up your stuff.”

“I’ll save you the trouble of getting rid of it,” Dink said.

The man unlocked the door. “There’s some mail, too. It’s on your desk, and there’s a package.”

Dink had thought there might be mail. He riffled through the envelopes and found three he wanted. They contained the new credit cards and an ATM card that Parker Mosely had ordered to replace the ones Herb Fisher had destroyed.

Then he turned his attention to the larger package. He opened it with a box cutter. Inside was a beautiful leather briefcase, one that matched his luggage. He opened the case and found a card inside: “Happy Birthday! You’re a man now. Love, Dad.”
The old man didn
’
t forget
, he thought.
How about that?

He packed his suitcases with some clothes, then he found his passport and checkbook in a desk drawer and put them into the briefcase with his Mac Air. He carried the cases out to his car, stowed them in the trunk, and headed for New York City. Once in the city he visited the Apple store and bought a new iPhone. His old one had disappeared. His first call was to the Lowell, a small, elegant hotel on East Sixty-third Street, near Madison. He booked himself a suite, then retrieved his car from the garage, drove there, and checked in.

HERBIE WAS
in his room at the Strategic Defense training center, sore from exertion and with tired arms from firing a pistol—something he discovered he did very accurately. His cell phone rang.

“Herb Fisher.”

“Mr. Fisher, this is the director at the farm,” a male voice said. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Oh, God, Herbie thought, the kid has died, or something.

“What’s happened?”

“We allowed young Mr. Brennan to make a day trip into the village with a staff member, and he managed to get away from him. We haven’t been able to locate the boy.”

“Have you called the police?”

“No, he hasn’t committed a crime, and he was here voluntarily.”

“But he committed himself.”

“He agreed to that under your guardianship, but that’s no longer in effect.”

“Why not?”

“Because he had his twenty-first birthday the day before yesterday.”

“Shit,” Herbie said.

“Well, yes. I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do for him, unless you can persuade him to return voluntarily.”

“Thank you,” Herbie said, then hung up. Now what?

SHELLEY BACH
sat at the dressing table in her room at the Carlyle and regarded her image in the mirror. She used a hand mirror to look at her profile and liked what she saw, even without makeup. There were still a few red places, but as she sponged on her makeup, they magically went away. She liked her new auburn hair, too; it went beautifully with her natural, pale skin color. She dressed and left the hotel.

Now she made her third visit to her new dentist for the fitting of her new smile. The veneers from the dental lab corrected small irregularities in her front teeth, and they were whiter than the originals. She had approved them on her second visit, when they had been affixed to a mold of her teeth. Now they were put permanently in place. She gave the receptionist her credit card and regarded herself in the mirror. She was exactly what she had wanted to be: a different person. No one who knew her would recognize her with her new profile, her new teeth, and her new clothes. She looked ten years younger, and she was no longer the
government drone she had been at the FBI; she was a New York woman.

Now all she wanted was to go shopping. Oh, and one other thing: she wanted a man. She stepped out onto Madison Avenue and swung her long legs toward Seventy-second Street and the Ralph Lauren store.

DINO LOOKED UP
from his desk to see Viv DeCarlo standing at his office door. She looked great, he thought: slim, but busty, black hair as thick as fur, nice clothes. She seemed to be dressing better these days. “Yeah, Viv? What have you got?”

“I’ve got two TROs on Ed Abney,” she said, “but a few years back. I have a theory about that.”

“Have a seat. What’s your theory?”

Viv sat down and crossed her legs. “I think he’s never stopped abusing women,” she said, “but I think he’s gotten better at intimidating them. I think that’s the only reason there are no recent TROs.”

“Makes sense to me,” Dino said. “Are you ready to make an arrest?”

“I’m not sure about that,” she said. “All we’ve got are the old TROs and Marla Rocker’s statement about what Annette said to her in the john at Sardi’s.”

“What sort of job did the crime-scene guys do on Annette’s apartment?”

“We didn’t get lucky there. He seems to have wiped everything down, and get this: they found an empty chemical douche in her kitchen garbage can. He probably flushed out her vagina, too.”

Dino frowned. “If he’s that careful, he’s going to be hard to nail. Do we know of any other women he’s been out with?”

“No, but I’d like to tail him and see who we can turn up. Any chance of a wiretap?”

“You can talk to the DA, but I doubt it. And we’re short of manpower. We couldn’t manage a proper tail team right now, unless we suspected he was about to hurt somebody again.”

“I’ve checked back on unsolved murders of women with theatrical backgrounds. There are two that might be a fit, but we’ve no evidence to connect him with them.”

“It’s all too nebulous,” Dino said.

“I have an idea about how to make it less nebulous,” she said, “but you’re not going to like it.”

“Why am I not going to like it?”

“Because it involves Rosie and me getting to know Mr. Abney.”

“Wait a minute, you’re not talking about—”

“Of course not. Neither of us is going to sleep with him and certainly not a threesome. You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”

“Not entirely. What do you have in mind?”

“I thought we’d give Abney a choice, see which of us he likes. If he bites, the other can run the tail, if you’ll give us one more team.”

Dino thought about it. It was a bold move, he had to admit. “You’re never to be alone with him,” he said. “Never.”

“I had a thought about that, too. We’ll wire an apartment and take him there. He’ll always be on camera, and there’ll be a team next door, watching. We won’t be alone that way, and we’ll have a record of what happens.”

“Where would you do this?”

“I’ve got a girlfriend who’s going to Europe for three weeks. She
has a nice place, and I think she’ll let us use it. It has a romantic look to it—soft furniture, lots of pillows.”

“If you can set it up properly, I’ll give you two teams,” Dino said.

Viv rewarded him with a broad smile.

SHELLEY BACH
cut a swath through the new Ralph Lauren women’s store, across the street from the old Rhinelander mansion, which now housed the men’s store. Lauren’s designs fit her beautifully, and there was a new line just in. She picked half a dozen things and ordered them delivered to the Carlyle. The sales assistants couldn’t do enough for her.

DINK BRENNAN
put on a suit, left the hotel, and took a cab the few blocks to his father’s office. He had thought of calling first, but he didn’t think he could pull this off on the phone. What he was going to do now needed to be done face-to-face.

He hadn’t been to his father’s offices for a couple of years, and the firm had moved to a new building on East Sixty-seventh Street since then. He found the name in the building’s directory and took the elevator to the top floor.

He was impressed with the decor in the new place—cool and modern, obviously designed by a top architect. He walked to the reception desk.

“Good morning. May I help you?” the young woman said.

“Yes, I’d like to see Marshall Brennan. My name is Dink Brennan.”

“Is he expecting you?”

“No, I thought I’d surprise him.”

“Surprise him?”

“I’m his son.”

The woman made the call, then hung up. “Someone will be right with you,” she said.

Dink took a seat, but only a moment passed before his father’s secretary appeared in the reception room. He stood up. “Hello, Anne,” he said. “Long time.”

She shook his hand. “You’re looking very well, Dink,” she said.

“I hope Dad will think so, too. Will he see me?”

“Of course. Follow me.”

Dink followed her down the long hall and into the lion’s den.

MARSHALL BRENNAN
stood up as his son walked into his office, and Dink thought his face registered surprise.

Marshall came around the desk with his hand out. “Hello, Dink,” he said.

“Hello, Dad,” Dink replied, shaking his hand warmly. “It’s good to see you.” He followed his father to the sofa, and they both sat down.

“They told me at the farm that you had … checked yourself out.”

Dink smiled. “I thought I’d save them the paperwork. And by the way, thank you for the handsome briefcase. I’ll try and put it to good use.”

“I hope you will.”

“Dad, I have some things to say to you, and I hope you’ll hear me out before you start asking questions.”

“I do have a way of interrupting, don’t I?”

“Sometimes. First of all, I want to apologize for the way I’ve
behaved for the past couple of years. I did some stupid things: I was smoking a lot of grass, gambling, and then I started selling the stuff. That’s over now. I was never addicted to anything, thank God. During my stay at the farm I had time to do a lot of thinking, and I want to get my life back on track.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Marshall said, warily.

“I’m going back to Yale in the fall and finish my degree, and I should be able to graduate with my class next year.”

“You were a good student once,” Marshall said.

“And I will be again. I’m thinking about law school.”

Marshall nodded. “You might make a good lawyer.”

“We’ll see. I have to tell you about some recent events, too. You’ll remember Parker Mosely and my former girlfriend Carson Cullers.”

“Of course.”

“They’re both in rehab now, and it’s where they belong. Something went really wrong with Parker. He went to Carson and told her that I wanted her to meet Herb Fisher, then claim he tried to rape her and ruin his career. I want you to know that I knew nothing about all this until Herb came to see me at the farm. I’m sure he still thinks I was involved, but honestly, I wasn’t. Parker and Carson are lucky they aren’t in jail, and they could have dragged me down with them.”

Marshall said nothing.

“In any case, once they’re out of rehab they can resume their lives, and I hope it won’t be their old ones.”

“I hope so, too.”

“As you know, I now have access to my trust, so I won’t be needing financial help from you. You’ve done more than enough for me. I went online and looked at the statements, and I see that
you’ve trebled the principal with your investing skills, and I’m grateful to you for that.”

“I would suggest that you continue to let me invest the bulk of your funds,” Marshall said.

“Thank you, I’d like that.”

“I’ll have Anne get the paperwork done for your new account.”

“Thank you.”

“Where are you staying?”

“I’ve got a room at the Lowell, on East Sixty-third. I haven’t thought beyond that.”

Marshall went to his desk and wrote down something, then took a key from a drawer and returned to the sofa. “The firm has a couple of apartments that we use to house out-of-town clients once in a while. If you like, you’re welcome to stay in one until you go back to Yale.” He handed Dink the address and key.

Dink accepted both. “Thank you, Dad, that’s very kind of you. I’ll move in tomorrow.”

“The house in East Hampton is still there, too. I don’t get out there as much as I used to, but the staff is still there. They’d be glad to see you whenever you like.”

“Thank you again, Dad. I’d enjoy that.”

“Have you spoken to Herb Fisher?”

“Not since he came to the farm. He was, understandably, angry.”

“You might go and see him,” Marshall said. “I think Herb is someone you’d profit from knowing, and anyway, you’ll need a lawyer.”

“I called his office, but he’s away this week.”

“Oh, that’s right, he went up to Mike Freeman’s new training facility.”

“Mike Freeman?”

“I’m sorry, he’s the CEO of a firm called Strategic Services. They’ve opened a new school for security people.”

“I’ll call him next week,” Dink said, then he got to his feet. “Thank you for seeing me, Dad. I’ll try to do a better job of living up to your expectations.”

Marshall, uncharacteristically, hugged his son. “Just live up to your own expectations, son.”

Dink signed the documents for his new investment account, said goodbye to Anne, and left.

ANNE CAME
into Marshall’s office. “You seem to have a new son,” she said.

“It appears I do,” Marshall replied. “I hope it lasts.”

HERBIE CAME
out of a class on defense strategy and ran, head-on, into Mike Freeman.

“Hi there, Mike. I didn’t know you were coming up.”

“I’m giving some prospective clients a tour. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Very much.”

“Well, cut your next class and come with me,” Mike said, “and you’ll learn a lot more. I’m giving these folks an overview of what we do.”