Sue Grafton - V is for Vengeance

“Photographs of what?”

“Cappi and Len Priddy chatting together in a parked car on six different occasions. Your brother sold you out.”

Dante stared at her for a moment while he decided what to do and then he said, “Get in.”

He stood aside while she slung her shoulder bag into the back of the limousine and slid in after it, shifting both herself and her bag over to the long side seat. When she was settled, he ducked in and took his usual place. To Tomasso, he said, “Take a drive. I’ll tell you when it’s time to bring us back.”

Before Tomasso pulled away, he triggered the mechanism that closed the panel between the front seat and the rear of the car. By then, Hubert was back in the front seat. Dante was intent on the woman sitting to his left. She was somewhere in her thirties, more girl than woman as far as he was concerned. He couldn’t decide what to make of her. She was small-boned with a ragged mop of dark hair she must have chopped off herself. Hazel eyes, her nose ever so slightly crooked. He could tell she’d been banged up, but he couldn’t imagine why. He said, “How do you know Pinky? You don’t look like the lowlife type.”

“I’m a private eye. He gave me the first set of key picks I ever owned and I owe him for that. I’m also fond of him, rascal that he is.”

“And he hired you to do what?”

“Not him. The man engaged to Audrey Vance.”

He was getting it. “You’re the one took my money and gave it to the cops. You and her landlady up in San Luis Obispo. That was a bad thing you did.”

“Hey, you sent guys to break into my studio. You violated my privacy and that’s just as bad.”

He couldn’t believe she had the nerve to sound indignant when she was the one who’d wronged him. He nearly smiled but thought better of it. “We’re talking about a hundred grand you cost me.”

She shrugged. “The courier service handed it over to Audrey’s landlady. Why am I to blame?”

“Wait a minute. Now I know where I heard your name. I read about you in the paper. You blew the whistle on Audrey.”

“What was I supposed to do? I saw her steal underwear and stuff it in her bag.”

“You could have looked the other way. Audrey was a peach. She worked for me for years.”

“I’m surprised she wasn’t better at her job.”

“You’ve also been following a friend of mine and it’s upsetting her. Where do you get off pulling shit like that?”

“Oh, right. Helping Hearts, Healing Hands. That’s a crock,” she said. “You want to talk about Cappi or go on trading recriminations? You ask me, we’re even.”

“You got a hell of a nerve. Why’d you come to me with bullshit about Pinky? What the fuck do I care? The guy’s a punk.”

“He needs help. I thought maybe we could work a trade.”

“A trade ?”

“Sure. I’ll tell you what I know and you pay his medical bills and living expenses until Dodie’s back on her feet.”

He stared at her with amazement. “I’m a bad man. Didn’t anybody tell you?”

“You don’t seem bad to me.”

“I’m not someone you come to with a deal,” he said. “That’s the point.”

She looked at him with… he wouldn’t call it insolence, but maybe cockiness. “Why not?”

“Why not ? Take a look at the other players in this game. You tell me Cappi’s sold me out. You know what kind of guy he is? A claim like that can get you killed.”

“Len Priddy’s worse.”

“Than Cappi? How you figure?”

“Len’s a cop, sworn to uphold the law. If he’s corrupt, then what happens to the rest of us?”

“Oh, I see. You figure I’m corrupt to begin with so what difference does it make.”

“Not at all. I suspect you play straight and you’re a man of your word.”

“Based on what?”

“Based on the fact that you have power and you’ve had it for years. You don’t need to dick around.”

“Nice talk, but it’s not going to help. You’ve got nothing to trade. Cappi’s snitching is not exactly late-breaking news. I’ve been suspicious about him since he got out of Soledad.”

“Well, now you know for sure. I saw the photographs.”

“Your word against his. You said he destroyed them all, so where’s your proof?”

“Doesn’t matter. You won’t be taking him to court, so the evidence is irrelevant.”

“Two corrections. A, you don’t know what I’ll do with him, and B, you don’t have a clue what’s relevant. Tell me something I don’t know and maybe we’ll do business. Believe it or not, I’m fond of Pinky myself.”

She held his gaze and he could tell there was something more she wanted to say. She was debating the wisdom of it and for the first time, he was truly interested.

“Come on. Out with it.”

“Are you aware Abbie Upshaw is Len Priddy’s girlfriend?”

He could feel his focus sharpen. “Says who?”

“I saw them at the Palms a week ago. That’s how she was introduced. You can ask her yourself.”

“You saw her in my office.”

“Of course. I was looking for you when I ran into her.”

“And she’s in on the deal, whatever it is. With these pictures you’re talking about?”

“For starters, I think she took them. Len stashed them at her place. She was out of town last weekend, no doubt humping his bones. Pinky looked for the photographs at Len’s and when they didn’t turn up, he decided to try her place. He walked away with her home safe and when he drilled it, he hit pay dirt.”

“What’s his stake in this?”

“Len was using another set of photographs to keep him in line. Those are the ones he was after at the time. The shots of Len and Cappi were a bonus. Dumb luck on his part. He was hoping you’d forgive his two-thousand-dollar debt in exchange for them.”

Dante took a moment to assimilate the information. “Fair enough,” he said. “You tell Pinky to come see me and I’ll take care of him. You have a car?”

“I’m parked in the underground garage.”

Dante reached up and pressed a button on the console. “You can take us back now. We’ll drop the lady at her car.”

He took the elevator up. When the doors opened, he crossed the reception area and paused at Abbie’s desk. Beautiful girl, no doubt about it, with that long dark hair. Sometimes she wore it up, caught in an oversize tortoiseshell clip that looked like a set of spring-loaded teeth. Steady, responsible, a valuable employee. She was watching him carefully, trying to read his mood. Maybe it had occurred to her that he and the private eye might have crossed paths downstairs.

“I have a job for you,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

“For me?”

Her warm olive complexion had taken on a gray cast, and he knew if he reached out and touched her hand, her fingers would be cold. “I need two first-class seats on a flight from LAX to Manila. I’ll need a limousine to take us down to the airport.”

Her face went blank as the request sank in. A frown created two parallel creases between her eyes. If she did that often, they’d be permanent.

“Is this a problem?” he asked.

“I was wondering why you chose Manila.”

“I like the Philippines, okay?”

She licked her lips as though her mouth had gone dry. “When did you want to leave?”

“Thursday. Make it late so I can get in a full day’s work. I’ll be at the warehouse first thing. Have a limo pick us up at the house for the trip down to the airport.”

“You don’t want your driver to take you?”

“He’s entitled to three weeks’ paid vacation. I’m giving him the time off. Same with my bodyguard.”