Quick & Dirty

21

Art Masi sat at his computer and Googled Pio Farina; he found a website. Art went there and clicked on Bio. Pio had attended a coed, arts-oriented prep school in New Hampshire for four years. He found the school’s website and did a search for Pio; in a moment he had found the school yearbook for his senior year.

There was a photograph of the young Pio with lots of hair, and underneath, a list of school activities: Sketch Club, 123&4; Drama Club, 3&4; Climbing Club, 123&4, captain, 3&4. Art didn’t need to read any further. Pio had lied to him about his fear of heights. Art loved it when suspects lied to him, and in this case, badly.

The two could have said they had both stayed home and watched the football game; instead, they had contrived to put Ann in Connecticut, and Pio thus had no one to back up his alibi. And since Ann had lied about her lunch at the Mayflower with her dying mother, neither did she. They had blown each other out of the water. How stupid could they be?

Art looked up Pio’s number in East Hampton and called. Pio answered. “Hello?”

“Mr. Farina, this is Art Masi from the NYPD.”

“Oh, yes, we met at our opening.”

“I’d like for you and Ms. Kusch to be in my office tomorrow at noon, to answer some more questions.”

“What?”

“I believe I spoke clearly.”

“In New York?”

“That is correct.”

“You want us to drive all the way to New York to talk to you? If you like, I’ll put Ann on the extension and you can talk to both of us now.”

“I’m sorry, this meeting will have to be face-to-face.”

“It’s a four-hour drive!”

“That’s why I scheduled our meeting for noon. Would one o’clock be more convenient? That’s the only other available time.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Masi, but we’re not going to make a trip into the city just to answer some questions that we can just as easily answer on the phone.”

“I can arrange for you to be driven to the city in a police car, if you like. Handcuffed.”

“What are you charging us with?” Pio demanded.

“We’ll discuss that at our meeting. One o’clock. The address is One Police Plaza. Ask for me at the front desk. Good day.”

Art hung up.

“Jesus christ!” Pio said.

Ann came in from the next room. “What’s wrong?”

“That art cop, Masi, just called. He says he wants us in his office at one o’clock tomorrow to answer some questions.”

“He doesn’t really expect us to drive all the way into the city just to see him, does he?”

Pio looked up at her. “He offered us a ride in a police car, handcuffed.”

“Oh, shit.”

Art called Stone Barrington.

“Hello, Art.”

“Stone, I’ve called Pio Farina and Ann Kusch in tomorrow at one for questioning.”

“Don’t they live in East Hampton?”

“They do.”

“Do you think they’ll show up?”

“As an alternative, I offered them a ride in a police car.”

Stone laughed. “That should do it.”

“I’m going to question them separately, and I’d like you to observe, if you have the time.”

“Sure, one o’clock. Are you downtown?”

“Yes, just ask for me at the desk. Make it twelve-thirty.”

“I’ll bet they bring a lawyer,” Stone said.

“I don’t think so, they still think I don’t have anything on them.”

“Do you?”

“They both lied to me when I questioned them at the gallery, and I can prove it.”

“So you’re going for a confession?”

“I may not be a homicide detective, but I’m a pretty good interrogator.”

“I’ll see you at twelve-thirty,” Stone said.

“We’d better call a lawyer,” Pio said.

“Bringing a lawyer is as good as a confession,” Ann said. “Don’t you ever watch TV?”

“We watch all those cop shows together. If somebody lawyers up, they have to let them go.”

“Look,” Ann said, “we’ve got one more shot at getting Masi off our backs, before we get lawyers involved.”

“We don’t even know a lawyer,” Pio said.

“Sure we do,” Ann replied. “His name is Stone Barrington.”