David Rosenfelt: New Tricks

“Is the story finally over?” he asks.

“Holy shit… ,” I say. “I need to use your phone.”

He doesn’t give me permission and I don’t wait for it. I grab the phone and dial Steven Timmerman’s number. It rings five times before the machine picks up. I can’t take the chance to leave a message.

I hang up and grab a notepad and paper from Corvallis’s desk. I talk as I write down Steven’s address. “I believe Martha Wyndham is behind this; she has been from the beginning. Please get some agents to this address; it’s Steven Timmerman’s apartment. If I’m right, she’s going to try to kill Steven and his dog. Please.”

I start to move toward the door as he stands up. “What about you?” he says.

“I’ll meet you there.”

I TELL THE CABDRIVER that I’ll give him a hundred dollars if he can get me to Steven’s apartment in less than ten minutes. Based on his driving after that, my promise is a highly motivating one.

I didn’t wait to go with Corvallis, because by the time he got downstairs and had a car brought around, it would have taken much too long. Certainly there is no way he is going to beat this cab.

I could be wrong again, but I should have known it was Martha Wyndham all along. She may well be working for someone else, but she’s been in the middle of everything from the beginning. And if I’m right, she won’t wait long to go after Steven.

It certainly answers the question of how the person who detonated the bomb knew that Diana Timmerman would be in the house. Martha was there, just starting to drive away, and she could have dialed the number from her car. And Martha had suggested I let Waggy live in that house while I decided who to award him to. It would have saved Jimmy Childs the trouble of trying to kill Waggy.

She was also there the day before the poison was thrown in our yard. We hadn’t been walking Waggy, in an effort to hide his location. But Martha saw him, and I believe that set the attempted poisoning in motion.

And Martha was one of very few people with access to Walter’s lab, and the knowledge of what he was doing. When she blew up the lab she must have felt she and her people had learned all there was to learn, of course having no idea that the FBI had been there first.

As often happens when I get myself in these situations, I don’t have a concrete plan for what I’ll do when I get to Steven’s house.

I call his number on my cell phone, and I’m surprised when he answers. “Hello,” he says. He doesn’t sound tense or upset, which is a relief.

“Steven, it’s me, Andy.”

“Andy, how are you? Checking up on Waggy?”

“Steven, have you heard from Martha Wyndham?”

“She’s right here. She came to visit and take Waggy for a walk.”

If there was a worse thing I could have heard him say, I’m hard-pressed to think of it now. I never should have made this call. “Steven, listen to me very carefully, and don’t say anything. Martha has been behind this all along, and you are in danger. Now pretend that I asked you over for dinner this weekend, and you’d like to come.”

He hesitates a moment and then says, “Dinner Saturday? Sure, I’d like that.”

“I’m going to be there with the police in just a couple of minutes. When we get off the phone, I want you to very casually go into the bathroom, and then lock yourself in. Do not come out no matter what.”

My hope is that Martha, realizing the police are on their way, will take Waggy and leave, and not worry about dealing with Steven. Even if she has a gun, she would be unlikely to use it to shoot open the bathroom door. It would attract too much attention. I hope.

“Don’t worry about Waggy, just go into the bathroom. Now say something friendly about dinner.”

“Sounds great,” he says. “What time should I be there?”

“I’m going to hang up now. Pretend to wrap up the call and then say good-bye. And Steven, you need to act as if nothing is wrong.”

I hang up and try to figure out my next step. There is certainly no way for me to storm the apartment, even if I were so inclined. It’s on the fourth floor, and there’s only a single staircase leading up to it. I would think somebody up there could hold off a SWAT team, so it’s unlikely that an unarmed, chickenshit lawyer is going to fight his way in. Besides, once Steven is barricaded in the bathroom, Martha is likely to be making a hasty exit.

I reach the apartment in what must be record time, and I jump out and drop the fistful of money through the window in the driver’s lap. I go up the five steps to the door, and am confronted with the realization that I have no idea what to do now.

I look around and cannot see any arriving federal agents; for the moment it’s only me. I also have no key to get into the building, so I decide to buzz every other apartment, and hope somebody lets me in. There are twelve total apartments in the building, including Steven’s, so I buzz the other eleven. Through the intercom, four people ask who it is, and in each case I say “UPS.” At least one of them presses their buzzer, and the door opens.

I’m inside, and still without the slightest idea what to do. I leave the door ajar behind me, to make it easy for Corvallis and his agents to get in should they ever show up. I decide to walk up the stairs and hopefully listen through the door into Steven’s apartment; at least that way maybe I can find out if Martha’s still there.

I’m on the second-floor landing when a door opens on one of the floors above, and I hear the telltale sound of Waggy’s feet scratching and trying to get traction on the slippery floor.

I hear Martha say, “Take it easy. Calm down.” She’s got more chance of her command being obeyed if she tells him to fly, or sing the national anthem.

They reach the stairs and are heading my way. It’s pretty dark in here, which is the only thing working to my advantage. I back up against the wall, so she won’t see me until they almost reach me. Unfortunately, as I do I hit my head against a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall. It makes a noise that I’m afraid she has heard.

“Is anybody down there?” Martha calls out, and when there is no answer, I hear them coming down the steps again.

My heart is pounding as they approach, so loud that it seems like it is echoing in the stairwell. Martha has a gun in her hand as she passes the point at which she should have seen me. But she does not see me, because she is intent on Waggy as she strains to keep him in check on the leash. He is dragging her forward so fast that she seems in danger of falling down the steps.

“Waggy! Stop it!” she screams as I jump out from behind her. I hit her from behind, and that, coupled with the forward motion that crazy Waggy is already generating, sends all three of us tumbling down the steps.

We land in a heap at the bottom, and I am conscious of Waggy yelping in pain. I feel a searing pain in my shoulder, but I don’t know what has happened to Martha.

“Glad you could join us.” It’s Corvallis’s voice, and when I look up he is holding his gun on Martha. Surrounding him are three other agents, also with their guns at the ready. It might be slight overkill, because Martha appears to be unconscious.

“Steven,” I say. “Four B.”

Corvallis makes a motion, and two of the agents run up to the fourth floor. I get to my feet and follow them, my shoulder hurting as badly as anything has ever hurt me.

Steven’s door is open when I get there, and I’m cringing at what I’m going to find. Cringing hurts my shoulder, as does talking, climbing stairs, and breathing. Thankfully, the cringing proves to be unnecessary, as the agents have gotten Steven to open the bathroom door and have brought him into the living room.