Fifth Avenue

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

While Leana was having dinner with Michael, Celina was phoning George and asking him to meet her for a drink. “I don’t care if you’re busy. I need to talk to you. Be at Houlihan’s on 56th and Lex in an hour. It’s important.”

She arrived at the popular bar ten minutes early.

The bar itself was three deep in people-most of whom were either posing or prowling, or throwing back their heads in comic relief.

Celina’s glance swept the pandemonium for George. She saw young businessmen in thousand-dollar suits struggling to look sophisticated and successful young businesswomen sipping white wine and trying to kick the traces of cocaine. She didn’t see George and she was glad. Celina wanted to see her father come in, wanted to watch him in that one moment before he knew she was watching.

She shouldered her way to the bar. One of the women recognized her and there was an audible whisper across the crowd: “Celina Redman…”

People turned and stared and Celina heard Eric Parker’s name mentioned more than once. She focused her attention on the barman. She ordered a martini and turned to look across a wooden divider, where people sat talking and drinking. A couple was just leaving a corner table, making it now the only available table in the place.

Celina paid for the drink and moved toward the table. She sat-and was surprised by how tired she was.

All day long, she and her father had been caucusing with Ted Frostman about the feasibility of taking over WestTex Incorporated. While he was enthusiastic, there were some at Chase who were more cautious. They wanted to run their own due diligence. They wanted to unleash on the company their own team of lawyers and accountants. They wanted to speak to Iran themselves. Until they knew every nook and cranny of WestTex, until they were certain the deal with Iran would not fall through, they were hesitant to join George in this takeover.

And Celina couldn’t blame them. There was plenty at risk, but time wasn’t a luxury in this deal and Frostman and Chase knew it. If they couldn’t give her father a commitment soon, George would have to try again and look elsewhere for financing. If they were serious, at some point Chase would need to have faith in her father and his prior successes, and take the risk.

She happened to be watching the doors when George stepped into the bar.

He looked tan and lean and was wearing the same comfortable style of clothing he always wore after work-khaki pants, white cotton shirt, brown leather loafers.

He went to the bar. People stepped aside, the conversation around him faltered, and he knew it. He had just caught the bartender’s eye when a young man in an expensively tailored gray suit approached him. He thrust out his hand, shook George’s and spoke to the bartender. Two drinks appeared in what seemed like a matter of seconds. They touched glasses, drank and George listened patiently as the man made his pitch.

Celina couldn’t help a smile. Although it happened more frequently than he liked, her father never shied away from such situations. He often said this was how he found some of his best employees.

She wondered if George felt that way now. He had met and hired Eric Parker at a bar like this.

The young man left with a smile stamped on his face and George turned to look for Celina. When he spotted her, he held her gaze for a moment, nodded to acknowledge he had seen her and came across the room. Celina could sense in him a slight annoyance at being called away from home.

He took the seat opposite her. “This is quite a place,” George said. “Loud, full-and young. You come here often?”

“Eric and I used to.”

He accepted this with a nod.

“Let me come right to the point.”

“Go for it.”

“I want to know if you had anything to do with what happened to Eric last night.”

The tension was quick to form and it stretched between them. George looked at Celina, but his face remained expressionless. He didn’t answer.

“I was there when they wheeled Eric out of Redman Place,” Celina said. “I saw them lift him into the back of an ambulance. I saw Diana Crane join him. I want to know if you had anything to do with it.”

“What does your heart tell you?”

“Don’t play games with me, Dad.”

“I’m not playing games with you.”

“Then just answer the question.”

“Not until you answer mine.”

At that moment, she felt a bitterness toward her father she hadn't felt before-and it frightened her. She thought of the argument they had the other morning and realized they no longer were as close as they once were. Something had shifted. She knew she could stop this, but she wouldn’t. Celina had to know the truth, no matter what she might lose because of it.

“All right,” she said. “My heart says there is no way you could have done this.”

“Then why are we here?”

“Because the rest of me feels differently.”

“Well,” George said. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He finished his drink and stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Celina.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back home to your mother.”

“But you haven’t answered my question.”

“And I don’t intend to. It’s ludicrous.”

“Then answer this for me, Dad. If you had nothing to do with what happened to Eric, who did you call that day in your study?”

George looked down at her. Celina met his gaze with her own. She wouldn’t look away.

“You want to know who I phoned that day in my study?”

“Yes. I want to know.”

George placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. His face was only inches from hers when he spoke. “I phoned a friend of mine who’s going to see to it that Eric Parker never works in this town again. That’s what I did to Eric, Celina. I destroyed his professional career. Nothing else.” He straightened. “Satisfied?”

She knew he was telling her the truth. She could see it on his face.

George turned to leave.

“Wait,” Celina said. “There’s something I have to tell you. Something that’s important.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about Leana.”

There was a guarded look in his eyes. “What about Leana?”

“She was there last night. I saw her in the crowd.”

George looked around them, likely to see if anyone was listening. He reclaimed his seat. “Go on,” he said.

“She was with two men. I noticed her after they wheeled Eric out of Redman Place.”

“Did she see you?”

“I called out her name to make sure of it.”

“What did she do?”

“She spoke to the men beside her, they looked at me and hurried her away from the crowd. When they lifted Eric into that ambulance, I swear to God she was smiling.”

George reached for his empty glass of Scotch and wished it was full. “What did the men look like?”

Celina read his mind. “They looked like friends of Mario De Cicco’s to me.”

“Do you think she’s seeing him again?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past Leana.”

“Neither would I.” He pushed back his chair.

“There’s more,” Celina said. “This morning, I spoke to the doormen who were on duty last night.”

“And?”

“Each of them mentioned talking with Leana. My guess is that she distracted them so her friends could get to Eric.” There was a silence. “I didn’t want to tell you any of this, but I thought you should know. If one of those doormen tells the police that Leana was there during the time of the attack, she could get into serious trouble-especially if Eric learns she was there. There’s no telling what he’d do if he makes that connection.”

“What makes you think he hasn’t already?”

George stood and turned to leave, but then he stopped and faced his daughter. “I’m going to be honest with you, Celina. One thing still bothers me.”

“What’s that?”

“The fact that you knew all this and still thought I was responsible for what happened to Eric.”

Later, in his office at Redman Place, George spoke separately to the same three doormen Leana spoke to the night Eric was beaten.

One was French, the other two Hispanics. The message he gave each was the same-George had friends at the Department of Immigration. If even one of them mentioned to the police that they spoke to Leana the night of the beating, he would see to it that all were deported to their respective countries the following week.