Desperate Measures

31

Stone was halfway home when his cell went off. “Hello?”

“It’s Faith.” She sounded stronger and spoke more confidently.

“It sounds as though you’re getting better fast,” Stone said. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, fast. This morning I hurt all over, but they’ve given me morphine for that, so I can relax. I’m going to take a nap shortly, and I thought maybe you could tell Dino something for me, so his cops won’t have to come and question me. I’m not up for that.”

“Of course. What would you like me to tell him?”

“Tell him I remember going into Caswell-Massey and buying some soap and walking out the door to Lexington, but absolutely nothing else until I woke up in that room. I had a bag over my head, but I could see out a little through a hole, and I saw the stool and window across the room. I heard the elevator coming, and I decided I’d rather die quickly than slowly, so I used the stool as a running step and went headfirst through the window. I remember cold air, then nothing, until I woke up in the hospital. That’s it, that’s everything.”

“Do you remember ever being in the room with someone else?”

“No, but since I was naked and tied to a chair, I knew someone had been there. I feared he was coming back.”

“All right, I’ll pass that on and see if we can keep the investigators off your back for another day.”

“I’d really appreciate that.”

“Can I come and see you?”

“Maybe tomorrow. The morphine is putting me to sleep right now. Oh, the flowers are beautiful, and thanks for the phone.” She hung up.

Stone called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“Our victim woke up and called me.”

“I’ll get somebody over there right now.”

“No, she doesn’t want that until tomorrow.”

“This isn’t about what she wants.”

“She told me what happened, and I’ll tell you.”

Dino sighed. “All right, what?”

Stone related Faith’s account of her evening.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it, every word of it, and I believe her. I told her your guys would be there tomorrow. Right now, she’s asleep on morphine.”

“Well, if she’s all doped up I guess that’s the best we can do.”

“I guess so. Oh, there’s something else I have to tell you. How about dinner tonight?”

“P. J. Clarke’s at seven?”

“See you then.” He made it back to his desk before the phone rang again. “Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Cilla. How about I cook you some dinner tonight?”

“I’d love that, but I’m dining with Dino, and we have some business to discuss.”

“Saturday?”

“I’m sorry, I have a previous invitation to a dinner party, and I was asked to come alone. I expect I’ll be seated next to some highly perfumed, heavily bejeweled deaf dowager.”

“If you can’t be with me, then I wish that for you. I’m afraid I’m tied up on Sunday, but I cook to order on Mondays.”

“Perfect.”

“Come at six-thirty, and I’ll have a bottle of Knob Creek and a straw waiting.” She gave him the address and apartment number.

Stone entered his plans into his iPhone calendar.

Dino was half a drink ahead of him when he arrived at Clarke’s, and Stone started catching up. Shortly, they were seated at a table in the back room, ordering dinner.

“Tell me,” Stone said, “how is the interrogation of your three suspects going?”

“They’ve lawyered up, and they’re holding their water.”

“I can make a suggestion that might help.”

“Any help at all would be appreciated.”

“One of the suspects, Mike Adams, has been offered a deal: he testifies and gets five years. However, he stoutly maintains his innocence.”

“And how would you know that?”

“You can’t ask me, and I can’t tell you, but here’s what I think might work: ask the DA to give Mr. Adams immunity, and he’ll tell everything he knows about the other two.”

“Yeah, but what does he know?”

“Listen, he works with the other two guys every day of his life, and the three of them are very frequently alone in that hotel lobby. Even if he didn’t watch them kill those girls, he’ll know something about their whereabouts on the relevant evenings.”

“And what if he was a cheerful participant in the rapes and murders?”

“It’s the old choice,” Stone said. “One, perhaps two birds in the hand and one out the window.”

“You think the desk clerk will crack, huh? I’d sure like to know how you know that.”

“I don’t know it, but I have every reason to believe that he’ll take the deal.”

Dino heaved a deep, sorrowful Italian sigh. “All right, I’ll suggest it to the DA.”

“There’s one other piece of information you might drop while you’re suggesting it.”

“What’s that?”

“Young Mike Adams is the grandson of Mikeford Whitehorn.”

“You’re shittin’ me! That little creep is of Swifty Whitehorn’s blood?”

“I shit you not. Mike is his daughter’s son.”

“Then what’s he doing working in that fleabag hotel?”

“Mike appears to be the black sheep in the family. I think they’re grateful that he has a job, even that one, although he has a trust fund.”

“You’re just a fountain of fucking information, aren’t you. I didn’t even know you knew Swifty Whitehorn.”

“You still don’t,” Stone pointed out, “although I’ll tell you we were at the same dinner table a few years ago, and I spent the evening listening to him talk about himself.”

“And that’s where you got all this information?”

“I didn’t say that. In fact, that dinner is not the source of my information.”

“But... ”

Stone held up a hand. “Don’t ask,” he said, smiling a little.

“I’ll call the DA.”