Стюарт Вудс - Barely Legal

“Hell, no.”

Mookie went up the stairs to apartments 2A and 2B. He’d been careful not to buzz 2A. He didn’t want that door opening while he was letting himself into James Glick’s apartment.

Mookie’s methods were not subtle. He took a crowbar out from under his coat, inserted it into the doorjamb, and pried back. Wood splintered and metal flew as the door popped open.

It didn’t take Mookie long to determine that James Glick was gone. His toothbrush and razor were missing from the bathroom, and one of his dresser drawers was left open.

Mookie looked around for something that would give him a clue where Glick had gone. The guy had a computer on his desk. Mookie clicked the mouse, found that it had been left on. Mookie checked his e-mail. The last e-mail was a confirmation of an Amtrak ticket. James Glick had taken the Acela to Washington, D.C.

Mookie jerked the cell phone out of his pocket. “Bad news, boss.”

“What’s that?”

“James Glick skipped town.”

Dino called Stone. “Are you up for dinner?”

“Sure. I gather Viv is on a job and unfree to entertain you?”

“Viv’s always working, but in this case I have news,” Dino said. “Patroon at seven?”

“Have they repaired the damage?”

“Does it matter? It’s just a couple of bullet holes.”

Stone arrived first and took the seat with his back to the wall, facing the door.

Dino walked in and chuckled. “Hello, gunslinger. Did you order yet?”

“Just got here.”

Dino pulled up a chair and sat down.

“You’re sitting with your back to the door,” Stone said.

Dino shrugged. “Sure. My buddy’s watching the entrance for me.”

The waitress came over and took their orders. Dino had the rib eye. Stone ordered the osso buco.

“Something on your mind?” Stone said.

“More bad news.”

“Seems to be the only kind you get. What’s up?”

“James Glick isn’t getting out of the hospital.”

“He died?”

“He was never there. James Glick skipped town. I don’t know what kind of pressure he was under, but he’s taken to flight.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m the commissioner of police, I had the hospitals checked. He’s not there and never was. He took the Amtrak to Washington, D.C., a couple of days ago. He bought a train ticket to Miami at Union Station, but it’s a good bet he never used it because he bought another train ticket from Washington to St. Louis a good two hours after his train to Miami would have left.”

“Did he go to St. Louis?”

“If he didn’t, someone else stayed over at the Hyatt on his credit card. So James Glick is either on the run, or someone has his wallet. If he’s on the run, he’s not doing a very good job of it because if I can trace him that easily, others can, too.”

“Will you tell Herbie?”

Dino grimaced. “I don’t want this to become a bad habit, but what good will telling Herbie do? He knows the guy’s not coming back. There’s nothing he’d be doing any differently now if he had the information.”

“So what are you going to do about Glick?”

“I’ll track him, and if there seems any point, I’ll pull him in.”

“You can do that?”

“With a phone call. We’re not the only police department in the country, you know. Though right now, it would only muddy the waters. And they’re murky enough as it is.”

Jules Kenworth had a busy day. A photo op with the mayor, lunch with his trophy wife, a business meeting with an entrepreneur who was lucky to get it. And then some goddamned group he was supposed to be nice to because they were naming a statue after him, as if that really mattered; if they wanted to use his name they should be nice to him .

Kenworth was pissed off and didn’t know why. It was just on general principles. What was the use of having billions of dollars if you couldn’t arrange everything to your liking?

The phone rang.

It was Taperelli. If he had bad news, Kenworth was going to tear him a new one.

“Skipped town?” Kenworth thundered. “When the hell did that happen?”

“The day he sent the other lawyer.”

“And you’re just finding out now?”

“He said he was in the hospital. There was no reason to doubt it until he didn’t come out of the hospital.”

“So this asshole handling the case is it? You’re telling me we’re stuck with him?”

“It appears so.”

“Then he has to learn, doesn’t he?”

“He certainly does.”

“Think you can handle that?” Kenworth said.

“Consider it done.”

Alonzo’s meat cleaver froze in mid-chop. He blinked at the man coming in the door and wished he were somewhere else.

“It’s Payday!” Mario announced, and Alonzo trembled.

“Take care of your customers, Alonzo, take care of your customers. Do not let me disturb you.”

There were three customers in the butcher shop. Carlo put the CLOSED sign on the door to be sure there wouldn’t be any more. One of the three customers read the situation right and left without buying anything. The woman awaiting her lamb chops would have done so, too, had she not been in mid-purchase.

Alonzo swung the cleaver, made the chops. They weren’t anything close to even, but no one cared. The woman grabbed them gratefully, flung money on the counter, and fled.

The last customer, finally recognizing the situation, decided there was something he would rather do. He beat a dignified, albeit hasty, retreat.

Carlo locked the door behind him and pulled down the blind.

Mario lit a cigar. “Alonzo. You don’t look happy to see me. It’s payday. Don’t you have the cash?”

“I got the vig.”

“Hear that, Carlo? He’s got the vig. But there’s principal involved. Wouldn’t you like to pay it down?”

“I’ll have it Thursday.”

Mario looked shocked and offended. He spread his arms and shook his head deploringly at the butcher’s faux pas. “You’re asking me to come all the way back here on Thursday because you are not prepared? That is a serious breach of etiquette. And how do we deal with serious breaches of etiquette, Carlo?”

Carlo looked like an unprepared student who had been called on by the teacher. “Real well?” he guessed.

Mario chuckled and shook his head ruefully. “Well, that’s certainly true. But how do we deal with a person who has made a serious breach of etiquette?”

“We remind him?”

“Exactly. We remind him. We point out the error of his ways. Which is what we need to do in this case.” Mario smiled at the wretched butcher. “That’s a real dangerous profession you have, chopping meat. How many fingers do you have left?”

Alonzo trembled and tried to hide his hands.

Mario said sweetly, “Could Carlo borrow your cleaver?”

The sun was shining brightly as Mario and his goons came out of the butcher shop.

“Who’s next?” Carlo said. Carlo felt exhilarated, as he always did after chopping off a finger.

Mario consulted his notebook. “Ah. Herbie Fisher.”

“Who?”

“The guy who didn’t want to pay.”

“They all don’t want to pay.”

“Idiot. The lawyer you hung out the window.”

“A lawyer. What do you do with a lawyer? Hit him with a gavel?”

“That’s very funny. You know why you find that very funny? Because he is not holding your ninety grand.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Yes, it is. That’s not like a few hundred dollars to a butcher. That is serious cash. It requires a serious reminder.”

“You want me to shoot at him again?”