Silent Treatment

Chapter35

By the time Maura reached the apartment,news bulletins of the crazed gunman at the Manhattan Medical Center werealready blanketing the airways. Max J. Garabedian, a forty-eight-year-old stockbroker,had quite suddenly charged from his hospital room wildly firing a gun down thehallway. Details were sketchy, but as yet no injuries had been reported. AndGarabedian, who was wearing blue pajamas and no shoes at the time, remained atlarge.

Furious at Santana, and as close to panicas Maura had ever seen him, Harry paced from one end of the apartment to theother, speaking as much to himself as to her.

'I shouldn't have trusted him. As soon ashe put those damn posters up I should have brushed him off like — like … Ihope he's okay. But right now I want to strangle him. I absolutely want tostrangle him … It must have been Perchek out there to upset him so. But whydidn't you spot him?. . The police could show up here any minute,Maura. Insurance fraud, attempted murder — who knows what else?. . Dickinsonwill have a field day with this one, a jubilee. . What in the hell am Isupposed to do now?'

The fiasco at the hospital wasn't the onlyserious development Harry had to deal with. He had only a short time left inwhich to make a decision that would cost him twenty-five thousand dollars — almost every bit of savings he had. Santana's meltdown had forced him into acorner. The police were certain to arrive at the apartment before long. If hewas going to accept the deal offered by a stranger on the phone, he had to makepreparations and leave before they came.

'Please sit, honey,' she said. 'Just for acouple of minutes. Sit and try to relax a little.'

She turned back to Channel 11. The reportswere varying widely from station to station, most of which were still rushingcrews over to the hospital. But Channel 11 and one other station had alreadyannounced that Garabedian's physician was Dr. Harry Corbett, still the chiefsuspect in the bizarre murder of his wife, Evelyn DellaRosa who had also been apatient at MMC.

Harry was concerned for what the real MaxGarabedian was about to go through. He had tried calling the school custodianat home, but got no answer. Almost certainly, the man was still at his job,although Harry had no idea at which school. Maura tried calling the Departmentof Education, but got no response there either.

'Only four-thirty and no one's there,' shesaid. 'No wonder so many kids in this town can't read.'

'I don't know what to do,' Harry said, forperhaps the tenth time. 'That guy is expecting me in New Jersey at nine. Thebank closes in another hour and fifteen minutes.' He started pacing again.'We've got to start moving and moving fast. The longer I wait, the more likelyit is the people at the bank will have learned that I'm in the news again. Asit is, I'm not sure how happy they're going to be about forking overtwenty-five thousand in cash. No matter what we decide, I've got to go and getthat money now. Then I don't think we can come back here.'

The call that had upped the ante bytwenty-five thousand dollars had come to the apartment around the same time RaySantana was shooting up Grey 2. When Harry arrived home from the office therewere two messages on his machine, neither of them any more promising than theseveral dozen others they had logged over the past four days. Thinking thatthis call might be the change-of-shift check-in from Maura, Harry preempted themachine.

'Hello?'

'Is this Dr. Harry Corbett?'

The voice was a man's, youngish tomiddle-aged, with an accent Harry couldn't place with certainty — possiblyGerman or Swiss.

'It is, Harry said.

'I am calling about the man in your posterand the fifty-thousand-dollar reward.'

Harry made a face and wished he had leftthe answering machine to do its job. Instead, he opened the log notebook andwrote in the time of the call.

'Go ahead,' he said. 'What hospital areyou with?'

'I am with no hospital,' the man said. 'Ilearned about the flyers and your reward from my employer.'

'And who is that?'

'The man in the poster. His initials areA.P. I will not speak his name over the phone. But you may already know it.'

Harry stiffened at the mention of TheDoctor's initials and immediately wondered if the caller could be Perchek,himself. But the voice was just too different from The Doctor's. Harry trieddesperately to think of any reason why he should deny knowing who Anton Perchekwas. Would he be giving anything away?

'Who are you?' he finally said.

'I handle security at his mansion and workas one of his bodyguards when he needs me to do so. I am on a pay phone rightnow. If you know A.P. at all, you know that he would not hesitate to kill me onthe spot for making this call.'

Harry had opened the spiral-bound notebookand was writing down as much of what the man was saying as possible.

'Go on,' he said.

'I wish to meet with you tonight and tomake an exchange. My information for your money.'

'How much money?'

'I do not intend to remain in this area oreven in this country after we meet. The Doctor and I have had some problemsbetween us. I have reason to believe he intends to kill me. I will settle forhalf of what you have offered. Twenty-five thousand in cash.'

'I don't have it.'

'Then get it. I will not negotiate anylower than that. Twenty-five thousand or no deal. In exchange, I will give youthe location of The Doctor's mansion and a recent photo of him taken withouthis knowledge. I will also tell you what security he has at the mansion. Thereyou will find proof of his role in the death of your wife, and other evidenceagainst him as well. How you handle that evidence will be up to you.'

'But-'

'Dr. Corbett, I have no time for this. Ihave preparations of my own to make. Nine o'clock tonight. If you know TheDoctor, you know why I do not trust anyone. You must do exactly as I say or wewill both lose out. Now, here is what you are to do. .'

Harry's bank was open until six thatnight. He had a total of $29,350 in his savings account, plus another five thousandor so in checking. He also had no personal connection whatsoever with anyone atthe bank. Cursing himself for not making more money, and for not having takenthe Hollins/McCue job, and for not going into ophthalmology, and for evertrusting Ray Santana, Harry took his savings and checkbooks and, with Maura,slipped out the rear basement door. They hurried to his garage for the BMW,stopped briefly at a newsstand, and then drove to his bank. With no idea howmuch space twenty-five thousand dollars would take up, especially in bill sizesof one hundred dollars or less, as the caller demanded, Harry had dumped out abriefcase and brought it along.

He entered the bank half an hour beforeclosing time. It was a moderately large branch and was still servicing a linewaiting to see the six tellers. Twenty-five thousand was more cash than he hadever handled at one time. Was it conceivable the bank wouldn't have that muchon hand?

Outside, Maura sat behind the wheel ofHarry's BMW, the driver of the getaway car. The ground rules Perchek's securitychief had laid down were that Harry was to bring the money to a landfill on theNew Jersey side of the Hudson, not far from the city of Fort Lee. He was tocome alone and to arrive at exactly nine P.M. The directions to the spot wereminutely detailed. The landfill was a dump site at the end of a winding dirtand gravel road. Harry was to drive to the center of the clearing, flash hislights four times, and wait beside the driver's-side door. The caller insistedon knowing the make and plate number of his car. If any other vehicleapproached the landfill, whether it had anything to do with Harry or not, themeeting would be off. . forever.

'The money means a lot to me,' the callerhad said, 'but not enough to die for.'

'How do I know this isn't a trap?' Harrysaid.

'What kind of trap? To what end? If myemployer wanted to kill you, you would be dead. It is that simple. If you knowhim at all, surely you know that. You are much more important to him alive.Besides, he delights in inflicting pain. The permanence and peace of death arehis enemy.'

Harry fought off an involuntary chill.

'I'll have a gun.'

'You would be foolish if you didn't. I canassure you I will.'

'I want a chance to inspect what you havebefore I turn over the money.'

'You will have five minutes. .'

The young teller studied Harry'swithdrawal slip for fifteen seconds. Then she verified his balance and lookedthrough the Plexiglas cage at him, smiling.

'How will you want this?' she said.

This was New York City, Harry remindedhimself, not some boondocks village. A twenty-five-thousand-dollar cashwithdrawal was everything to him, but probably not so uncommon to any of thesepeople.

'Hundreds or less,' he said, knowing thatthere was no sense trying for an air of nonchalance when she had his bankbalance on the screen right in front of her.

'Did you bring something to carry themoney in?' she asked, 'or would you like one of our bags?'

'I have a briefcase.'

He held it up for her to see. Herexpression made it clear that she knew he was not one of the do-it-all-the-timepeople.

'I'll need to get authorization from Mr.Kinchley,' she said.

She left her post and headed out frombehind the cages to the desks where the junior officers sat. Harry followed herwith his eyes and saw her approach a nattily dressed man in his late thirtieswith a sailor's tan and a chiseled jaw.

Come on, Harry thought. Just give methe goddamn money. If the bank withdrawal fell through, he had decided tocall his brother Phil, who lived in Short Hills, about forty-five minutes fromFort Lee. But if he had to go that route, everything would become immeasurablymore complicated.

He risked a glance out the front window.Maura was parked directly across the street. She was wearing dark glasses and awhite, floppy-brimmed hat, which was bobbing animatedly — probably to somethingon the radio. The sight of her that way brought Harry a smile in spite of thetenseness of his situation.

Their relationship was being forged in theintense heat of the events that had drawn them together. But in just a shorttime, they had become friends in a way he and Evie never had. And thatfriendship, in turn, had given their lovemaking an openness and mutual caringthat had never existed in his marriage.

Now, reluctantly, he was testing thatfriendship. Despite the mysterious caller's quite credible story, and his useof Perchek's initials, neither Harry nor Maura was at all comfortable with whathe was being asked to do. Still, as the caller had said, they could think of noreason Perchek would want to lure him into a trap. It couldn't be for themoney. Surely, twenty-five thousand dollars was nothing more than petty cash tothe man.

It seemed as if there was nothing he coulddo but follow the instructions to the letter and hope for the best. But whenMaura noticed the phone Evie had installed in the BMW, she had the germ of anidea. And soon after that, they had a plan. There were three elements essentialto their strategy, and Maura possessed them all: another car, a cellular phone,and the courage and willingness to put herself in harm's way. They had stoppedby a newsstand and bought a detailed street map of the area surrounding FortLee. On it, the landfill was nothing more than a blank spot near the river, twoblocks square, surrounded by suburban streets. As soon as possible, Maura wouldpick up her car and her phone. She would then drive someplace near the landfilland, without being seen, find her way to a spot where she could hide and watchthe field. At eight-twenty, after he had left the garage, she would call him.She would check in once again after he had reached the New Jersey side. Ifthere was no sign of a trap, he could proceed to the landfill with moreconfidence. If problems did develop, she would have the phone to call for help.They had a gun, the one Harry had taken from the killer in Central Park. Afterarguing for Harry to keep it, she finally agreed that it made more sense forher to have it.

'Sir, I'm sorry for the delay.'

Harry spun around to the teller's cage andthen realized that the young woman was standing next to him.

'Oh, yes. No problem.'

He held his breath and clenched his fiststo keep his hands from shaking. It was already nearing rush hour. If the bankcame through, Maura would still have a tough enough time getting across theGeorge Washington Bridge, finding a place to leave her car, and then locating aback way into the landfill. If they had to deal with Phil, whether or not hecame through with the money, it would be nearly impossible for her to get therein time.

'If you'll come with me, sir, Mr. Kinchleywill have your money.'

'That would be fine,' he said, smilingcalmly, his pulse hammering in his ears.

Kevin Loomis sat alone in his basementoffice, photographs of his family and his life with Nancy spread out on hisdesk beneath a checklist he had drawn up. Every item on the list had been takencare of now. The insurance policies were absolutely airtight as long as therewas no suspicion that his death was a suicide. Suicide would cost him — wouldcost Nancy — two million of the three and a half million he had inforce, to say nothing of five hundred thousand dollars in double indemnityaccidental-death benefits. But he had worked out every movement, every moment,in the most exhaustive detail. There would be no suspicion of suicide.

He had put careful thought into the guestlist he had drawn up for the barbecue dinner party they were giving thefollowing night. The guests, fourteen in all, included the most respected,successful, influential, and community-conscious people they knew. Their pastorand his wife, Nancy's boss and his wife, the lawyer who was head of the localLittle League association, the president of the Rotary Club. Nancy thought it abit strange that Kevin had chosen to invite only two of their more fun-lovingbeer-drinking friends, but she accepted Kevin's explanation that he wanted tothank some people before the move to Port Chester.

In fact, he wanted guests who would mosteffectively and eloquently vouch for his cheerfulness and his hospitality rightup until the moment of the accident, as well as to the fact that he had 'had afew.' Two of them would accompany him down to the basement. The two he plannedto pick were men at whose homes he had done minor repair work in the past, astore manager and the pastor. They would be on the stairs, their flashlightbeams fixed on the water gushing from the detached washing machine hose. Theywould attest to Kevin having the skills necessary to take care of the emergencyand would report on his movements through the inches-deep water on the concretefloor. The moment Kevin's hand came down on the shorted wire of the dryer wouldremain forever fixed in their minds. But what the hell. They were friends whowould do anything for Nancy. And he was paying a far greater price.

The children were accounted for as well.Nicky and Julie were going to spend the night with friends. Brian would be withNancy's parents. It was strange to think that tomorrow afternoon, when he sent themoff, he would be looking at each of them for the last time. They would have atough time of it, but not nearly as tough as if their family became destituteand their father went to prison.

Perhaps there really is anafterlife, hethought now. Perhaps I'll be able to look in on them every single day.

He stacked the photos up and reviewed eachone for a final time. Then he wrapped them with a rubber band and set them in adrawer. The lists he tore up and threw in a plastic bag full of trash, which hewould put in the barrels in the garage. Finally, he went once more to thewasher and dryer to check on his handiwork. The twine that ran from theloosened hose out the basement window was in place. One pull and the hose wouldcome free. Cutting the twine off and discarding it would be his next to lastact on earth. The last would be innocently setting his hand on the back of thedryer.

Kevin knew that Harry Corbett suspectedwhat he was planning to do. There was nothing subtle about the Vietnam story hehad told that night in the car. And in fact, he had thought a great deal aboutwhat Corbett was trying to tell him, that his situation wasn't hopeless. Thatwas all well and good for Corbett to say. He didn't have three kids to providefor.

Kevin had spoken with him several timessince then and had been careful to sound upbeat and positive. He did notbelieve Corbett intended to act on his concerns. What was there for him to do,anyway? A little more than twenty-four hours and it would all be over.

Kevin inspected the setup he had createdaround the washing machine and dryer. The police would come over and file somesort of report. But there was no way anyone could prove this wasn't anaccident. Absolutely none.

He sighed the relief of a man who had justcompleted a job and done it well. Tonight he would have a wonderful dinner withhis family. And later on, he would make love to Nancy, as he had never madelove before.