Lawrence Sanders - Tenth Commandment

I was a mild little man, temperate, reflective. Nothing in my life was dramatic except what was contributed by others. It seemed incredible that I could survive in a world of such fiery wants and insatiable appetites.

When the phone rang at about 8.20, I did not leap to answer it, but moved slowly, calmly. I think I may have been dreading what I expected to hear.

'Josh?' Stilton's voice.

'Yes.'

'Percy. She spilled. Everything. It went down the way you figured. She doesn't know exactly how he did it — a karate chop or a hunk of pipe. She didn't ask. She didn't want to know. Ditto Martin Reape and his wife. Knurr just told her not to worry, he'd take care of everything.'

'And he did,' I said.

'Yes,' Perce said. 'Jesus, I'm tired. Anyway, we're organized now. There's a team up at the Stonehouse apartment, looking for the will. Another at Knurr's place in the Village. And another staked out at his houseboat.

We're also going into the Kipper townhouse. I don't think they'll find anything there, but you never can tell.'

'No hairs?' I said. 'Dust? Crumbs of tobacco?'

'Come on,' Stilton said, laughing. 'You know that was all bullshit.'

'Yes,' I said.

'Anyway, we've got a fistful of warrants. Lou and I are going up to the houseboat. Want to drag along?'

I came alive.

'I certainly do,' I said.

'Pick you up at your place,' Percy said. 'Josh, do us a favour?'

'Of course. Anything.'

'We're starved. Get us some sandwiches, will you? And maybe a six-pack?'

'That's easy,' I said. 'What kind of sandwiches?'

'Anything. We'll pay you.'

'Nonsense. This will be on Tabatchnick, Orsini, Reilly, and Teitelbaum.'

'You're sure?'

'Absolutely.'

'We'll be outside your place in half an hour.'

I had secured the sandwiches and was waiting on the sidewalk when the dusty-blue Plymouth pulled up, Lou driving. I climbed into the back seat. I handed the brown paper bag to Stilton, up front.

'I got them at a deli on Tenth Avenue,' I said. 'Roast beef on white with mayonnaise, and bologna on rye with mustard. Two of each. And a cold six-pack of Miller's. Is that all right?'

'Plasma,' Lou groaned. 'Plasma!'

They dived into the bag and ripped tabs from the beer cans. Percy turned sideways, talking to me as he ate.

'We got the Stonehouse will,' he said. 'They're going through Glynis's personal stuff now. She wasn't there. Her mother says she went to a matinee this afternoon. She's probably with Knurr. No sign of the two of them yet. If we haven't picked them up by midnight, we'll put out an all-precincts, then gradually expand it if needed.'

'They're searching Knurr's social club on Carmine Street?' I asked.

'Oh sure,' Stilton said. 'Found a lot of financial records.

He was doing all right. How does half a mil grab you?'

'Incredible,' I said.

'Ah, well,' Lou mumbled, starting another half-sandwich, 'he was a hard worker.'

'What about Chester Heavens' house diary?'

'Got it,' Percy said. 'Also Tippi's collection of notes her husband wrote her. Josh, the DA will want all the paper you're holding. Monday morning will be time enough.'

'Does Tippi have legal counsel?'

'She does now,' he said. 'Not from your firm. Some hotshot criminal lawyer. He and the DA's man are kicking it around right now, sewing up the deal. Lots of screaming.'

'Do you really think she'll go free?'

'Probably,' he said without interest. Then he looked at me closely. 'Josh, it happens all the time. You give a little, take a little. That's how the system works.'

They finished the sandwiches and four of the beers.

'Dee-licious,' Lou said, scrubbing his moustache with a paper napkin. 'Now I'm ready for a fight or a frolic.

Thanks, pal.'

'We're going up to the boat basin,' Stilton told me.

'We've got a search warrant for the houseboat. There's a car with two men on Riverside Drive at 79th Street and one guy on the dock. The three of us are going into the boat.

We'll be in touch with the others by walkie-talkie in case Knurr shows up. If the radios work.'

'They won't,' Lou said casually. 'Let's go.'

We drove north on Tenth Avenue, into Amsterdam, and turned west on 79th Street. The two detectives talked baseball for most of the trip. I didn't contribute anything.

We parked in a bus-loading zone near West End Avenue. We got out of the car, Percy and Lou taking their radios in leather cases. They didn't look around for the stakeout car. We walked across the park, down a dirt path.

We came to the paved area and the rotunda.

It was a ghostly place, deserted at that hour. I thought again of an archaeological dig: chipped columns, dried and cracking foundation, shadowed corridor leading to the murky river. It was all so broken and crumbling. Ancient graffiti. Splits in the stone. A world coming apart.

We walked down the steps to the promenade by the river. A few late-hour joggers, pairs of lovers tightly wrapped, solitary gays on benches, an older man frisking with his fox terrier, several roller skaters doing arabesques, a few cyclists. Not crowded, but not empty either.

Stilton rattled the gate, calling, and when the marina manager came out from his shed to meet us, Percy and Lou showed their identification. Stilton held up the search warrant for the man to read through the fence. He let us in, pointing out Godfrey Knurr's houseboat south of the entrance.

We paced cautiously down planked walkways floating on pontoons. They pitched gently under our tread.

'You said you've got a man on the dock?' I asked anxiously.

The detectives laughed.

'The guy with the dog,' Lou said.

'Al Irving,' Stilton said. 'He always takes his mutt along on a stakeout. Who's going to figure a guy with a dog is a cop? That hound's got the best assist record in the Department.'

We stepped down from the wharf on to the foredeck of Knurr's long fibreglass houseboat. There was a thick cable leading to an electric meter on the dock. The sliding doors to the cabin were locked. Lou bent to examine them.

'Piece of cake,' he said.

He took a leather case of picklocks from his jacket pocket. He fiddled a moment, pushed the door open. He stood aside.

'Be my guests.' he said.

But I noticed he had unbuttoned his coat and jacket and his hand was on his hip holster. Percy Stilton went in first.

His revolver was in his hand, dangling at his side. He found the switch and turned on the lights.

'Beautiful,' he said.

And it was. We went prowling through. Chairs, tables, couches. Drapes and upholstery in cheery plaid. Plenty of headroom. Overhead lights. Tub and shower. Hot water heater. Toilet. Lockers and cabinets. Wall-to-wall carpeting. Beds, sinks. Larger than my apartment, and more luxurious. A floating home.

We searched all through the houseboat, stared at the twin engines, bilge pump, climbed to the sundeck, marvelled at the forward stateroom and the instrument panel in the pilothouse. We ended up in the galley, looking at an electric range/oven and an upright refrigerator, And a horizontal chest freezer.

It didn't look like the standard equipment. It had been jammed into one corner, tight against a bulkhead and the refrigerator. The lid was secured with a cheap hasp and small padlock.

The two detectives looked at each other.

'Wanna bet?' Lou asked.

'No bet,' Percy said.

Lou leaned down to examine the padlock.

'Five-and-dime,' he reported. 'I saw some tools in the engine room.'

We waited, silent. Lou was back in a minute with a small claw bar. He hooked the curved end into the loop of the padlock and yanked upwards. It popped with a screech of metal.

'Cheese,' Lou said, flipping open the hasp. He gestured towards Percy. 'Your treat,' he said.