William Lashner - Marked Man

“Look, Dad, there’s a man in California who is going to do everything he can to stop me from bringing Charlie home, violence no object. I don’t want him to go after you to go after me.”

“Why me?”

“Because he knows you.”

“Who is this supposedly frightening man?”

“Teddy Pravitz.”

Pause. “I always liked Stone Harbor.”

“I know a Realtor. I’ll let her handle it. She’ll be in touch.”

“Make sure it’s on the first floor.”

“Will do. But there’s something else you have to do for me. To do what I need to do, I’m going to need some help.”

“What kind of help?”

“I’m going to need a driver.”

“I’M BRINGING him home,” I said. “But before I do, I need the deal in writing.”

We were in Slocum’s office, McDeiss, Slocum, Jenna Hathaway, and myself. The three were not happy with me right at that moment. With two murders and a host of questions, they had been trying to reach a material witness for days and were angry as hell that he had left the jurisdiction and couldn’t be reached. One of the great joys in life, I have found, is turning off the cell phone.

“You have the answers you were looking for?” said Hathaway.

“That I do.”

“You found her?”

“Not exactly, but I found him.”

“My God. Where?”

“I’ll let you know after the deal is signed and I bring my client in.”

“And Charlie is ready to testify against him?”

“When I show him the written deal, he’ll talk. And not just Charlie. Joey Pride, whom you’ve been looking for and haven’t been able to find? He’ll talk also, about the Ralph Ciulla killing and the events surrounding the Randolph Trust robbery, so long as you have a deal for him, too.”

“What kind of deal does Joey want?” said Jenna.

“Flat immunity.”

“Do you represent him?”

“By the time you get hold of him, I will.”

“And there is something we can prosecute after all this time?” said Slocum.

“Absolutely. You should be able to bang him away for the rest of his pathetic life. And trust me, Larry, your boss will be quite pleased with all the publicity. Time and Newsweek will be calling, and the bestselling book is being written as we speak.”

“This isn’t about publicity,” said Jenna.

“With politicians it’s always about publicity. And your father, Jenna, will finally be able to close that case.”

She turned her head, thought a moment, and then nodded.

“Sounds good,” said Slocum. “Where should we pick him up?”

“At his mother’s house.”

“Don’t be silly,” said McDeiss. “Too hot, too obvious, too damn dangerous.”

“It’s not negotiable,” I said. “His mother’s house. I’ll let you know the when. And he has to have the chance to spend some time with his mother, no interference, before you take him away.”

“You’re going to get him killed,” said McDeiss.

“No I won’t, Detective, because you’ll be there to protect him. I have total faith in your abilities.”

“Don’t even try to sweet-talk me,” said McDeiss. “And how are you going to get him there?”

“I’ll figure that out.” I nodded toward Slocum. “And when I do, I’ll call Larry on the cell with the exact time and day. He’ll relay it on.”

“So that’s it?” said Slocum. “Everything’s settled?”

“Well, almost everything,” I said.

“Here it comes,” said McDeiss.

“Why so cynical, Detective?” I said.

“I’ve dealt with you before, and I’m still looking for my wallet.”

“Remember that painting? The Rembrandt? Well, Charlie might have been a little mistaken about the painting. He did have it, once, but he’s not sure that he has it anymore. It might have up and disappeared on him. Bit of a mistake on my part there.”

“No painting,” said Slocum.

“Sorry.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Wish I was, but no. Too bad, really. I always like pictures of guys in funny hats, but it seems bringing up the painting was just Charlie’s way of getting attention.”

“But the Rembrandt was the point of the whole thing from the start,” said Slocum.

“Maybe at the start, but the key to this deal now is Charlie’s testimony about the Warrick gang and the missing girl. Best I can tell, none of you gives a damn about the painting, and neither do I. The Randolph Trust is just going to have to make do with its other five hundred masterworks.”

“You know it is a crime to sell a stolen artwork,” said Slocum.

“Maybe I missed the meaning of immunity.”

“We can’t countenance a crime.”

“Remember what I said about there being no painting.”

“And if we don’t agree?”

“The story’s going to come out anyway, I’m going to see to that. My client’s truest ally all along has been the press, and we’re going to use it this one last time. So after the story comes out, either you’ll have cooperative witnesses that can pretty much make your case or everyone will know about the murderer you let go free because of your abiding love of the fine arts.”

“I’M BRINGING him home, Lav,” I said into the phone.

“You silly wabbit,” said Lavender Hill. “You silly, silly wabbit.”

“I knew you’d be pleased. Did your client enjoy our visit?”

“He was entranced.”

“He’s going down.”

“Not without a fight, I assure you.”

“And you, Lav, are you his designated champion?”

“All I am is a procurer.”

“It’s good that you found your rightful place in the universe. So he’s got someone else to do the hard work, is that it?”

“The way you run around like a fatted goose without its head, it will not be so hard. Is this still about that girl whose photograph you showed me?”

“Yes it is.”

“Did you discover the truth?”

“Yes I did, and let me assure you, he’s going down. What were your financial arrangements with your client?”

“None of your sweet business, darling.”

“I assume he paid you something up front, because an operative of your caliber doesn’t work on credit. But has he, as of yet, paid for the object in question?”

“Arrangements have been made.”

“Escrow?”

“Not exactly. Why?”

“What would happen if, as a condition of procuring this little doodle, I insisted it not go to your client in L.A.?”

“Are the negotiations back on track?”

“With my added condition.”

“You are a font of surprises, aren’t you? I am not an idle man, Victor. I anticipated possible financial problems with my original client and I have made arrangements with other collectors whom I have worked for in the past.”

“So even if the painting doesn’t go to L.A., payments would be forthcoming.”

“That would be correct.”

“Tell your other collectors to get out their checkbooks. Maybe we’ll open it up to bids, boost those commissions.”

“What a delicious possibility.”

“Be available.”

“Oh, Victor, trust me on this, I will be more than available. But let me ask, are we getting a tad greedy, dear boy?”

“Lav, let’s just say it’s about time I took the leap.”

“And what exactly doyou want from me?” said Beth as we walked toward a small row house in an old neighborhood just off the Cobbs Creek Parkway in West Philly.

“I need you to test the security arrangements put in place by McDeiss, maybe direct them away from where I intend to go.”

“So I’ll be your decoy.”

“Decoy is such a loaded term.”

“Not as loaded as their guns will be.”