Ed McBain - Another Part of the City

“Oh? Has someone been murdered?”

“Two someones. Three if we count the Arab, but you can’t be blamed for what some fanatics did, can you?”

“I have no idea what you’re...”

“One of the victims came to see you on the fifteenth, Mr. Rothstein. Remember? I asked you about him this morning, and you said you didn’t know him.”

“I... who do you mean?” Rothstein said.

“A man named Peter Dodge.”

“I still don’t know him.”

“Let me help you,” Reardon said. “He bought quite a few silver contracts. Bought them long, in fact. Which is what someone would do if he knew the price was going up.” He looked at Olivia. “If he’d seen the timetable, right, Miss Kidd?”

“Mr. Reardon, the legal buying and selling of silver...”

“Oh, sure,” Reardon said, and turned to Rothstein again. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one,” he said. “Here’s what Phelps says happened. At least, this is what you told Phelps happened, after which he ran to clean out Mrs. Katzman’s lock box.”

“If you’re ready to believe a thief...”

“Yeah, I’m ready to believe him,” Reardon said. “According to Phelps, this is what you told him. Dodge came to you that afternoon and showed you a piece of paper with a lot of dates on it. Dales for buying silver contracts. All spelled out. A textbook for making a fortune. And he also showed you...”

“No, he didn’t show me anything,” Rothstein said.

“Ah, you remember him now.”

“Vaguely.”

“Then why’d you tell me you hadn’t seen him?”

“Because...”

“Because you knew he’d been killed and you knew why he’d been killed!”

“No, I...”

“Yes. Which is why Phelps ran, by the way. The minute he knew you were involved in murder ...”

“I had nothing to do with Dodge’s murder!”

“But he did come to see you, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Lowell,” Olivia warned.

“He’s accusing me of murder, damn it!” He turned to Reardon again. “He came to see me, yes. And, yes, he showed me the purchasing schedule.”

“You just told me he didn’t show you anything.”

“He showed it to me.”

“How’d he get it?”

“From a little Italian who owns a restaurant on Mulberry Street.”

“Ralph D’Annunzio?”

“Dodge didn’t tell me his name.”

“It was D’Annunzio. Who’d been sitting next to an Arab named Amin Abbas...”

Olivia looked at him sharply.

“... on the shuttle from Washington, D.C. Go on, Mr. Rothstein.”

“Are you charging Lowell with something?” Olivia asked. “Because if you are, I feel an attorney...”

“Sit tight, Miss Kidd,” Reardon said. “You’ll have plenty of time for attorneys. Let me hear it, Mr. Rothstein.”

“Apparently, they struck up a conversation on the plane. Abbas and the Italian. Abbas left his briefcase behind...”

“I know all this,” Reardon said, “I have it from D’Annunzio’s son. What did Dodge tell you when he came to see you?”

“He said a client of his had come into possession of a briefcase and was afraid to go to the police with it because its owner was the victim of a shooting at La Guardia. That’s exactly what he told me.”

“And, on the basis of what he found when he opened that briefcase, he wanted to buy silver.”

“On the basis of the purchasing schedule, yes.”

“And the timetable.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Rothstein said. “A timetable? What do you mean? A man came to me to buy silver. I’m a stockbroker. I do a large business in commodities...”

“Your partner said Dodge asked for an unlimited line of credit, is that true?”

“Well... yes, I suppose...”

“Asked you to back him to the hilt in buying silver long, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he... well, yes, he did.”

“And incidentally signed his own death warrant.”

“I had nothing to do with Peter Dodge’s death,” Rothstein said.

“No? You knew he was in possession of the timetable, the one thing that could blow the...”

“He’s already told you he doesn’t know anything about this time table of yours,” Olivia said. “No more answers, Lowell, until we get an attorney up here.”

She went directly to the phone on the desk and lifted the receiver.

“By the way,” Reardon said, “Abbas was ticketed Phoenix, Washington, New York, and Rabat. In Phoenix he went to see your father. To talk about money.”

Olivia looked at him.

“And in Washington,” Reardon said, “he went to see Senator Thomas Bailey. To talk about bombers.”

She put the receiver back on the cradle.

She turned from the desk.

“You’ve been busy,” she said.

“So have you,” Reardon said. “According to your brother...”

“My brother? What...?”

“Did I forget to mention him?” He looked at his watch. “He should be down at the precinct by now. He beat me to within an inch of my life, big fella, your brother. But we had a nice little chat afterward. And he told me all about the timetable.”

Olivia was watching him intently now. Rothstein was sitting on the edge of his seat, as if he would bolt for the door at any moment.

“Abbas was in Washington to talk to Senator Bailey about getting more planes for his country. Because once the timetable went into effect...” He looked at his watch again. “What time do you suppose it is in Saudi Arabia?”

Rothstein looked sharply at Olivia.

“How many hours ahead are they?” Reardon asked. “Eight, nine? Let’s say it’s three in the morning there, okay? That leaves how much time to six A.M. on Christmas Day?” He paused. “That’s when they start bombing the oil fields, isn’t it? Six A.M. on Christmas Day?”

Neither of them said anything.

“First wave of planes is supposed to go over the Rub’ al Khali at six in the morning, isn’t that right?” Reardon said. “According to the timetable?”

Silence.

“Kidd International won’t do too bad, will it?” he said. “With a war in Saudi Arabia, and you sitting with oil interests all over the Middle East. Your brother seems to think you’ll make trillions of dollars.”

“Zillions,” Olivia said, and smiled.

He had to hand it to her, that smile.

“But again, Mr. Reardon, we’ve done nothing illegal,” she said. “The silver we’re buying...”

“How about financing a little war? Your brother says that’s why Abbas was in Phoenix, Miss Kidd. To get additional backing from your father. Phoenix to Washington, right? First more cash, then more bombers. Right, Miss Kidd?”

“That may be immoral,” she said, smiling again, “but illegal? Really, Mr. Reardon...”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” he said, “but murder is illegal. According to your brother, the minute Dodge left Rothstein’s office...”

“I had nothing to do with the murders!” Rothstein said.

“You knew what that timetable meant, didn’t you? The minute you laid eyes on it...”

“Yes, but...”

“The minute you linked it to the silver purchasing schedule...”

“Yes, but I’m not the one who...”

“Shut up, Lowell!”

“All I did was call Phoenix!”

“Damn you, I...”

“She’s the one who put the Arabs on Dodge! She’s the one who ordered them to...”

“You are a very stupid man,” Olivia said.

Reardon looked at both of them.

“I think you’d better come with me, huh?” he said. “We can talk more about this downtown.”

“Why?” Olivia said.

“Miss Kidd, maybe you don’t understand the situation here...”