The Finishing School

25

THE TEAM HAD AGREED to stage out of a pub a block from the Worth Street subway stop. When Melanie and Linda arrived, the place was overflowing with drunken Wall Streeters who’d begun their Christmas revels early. Melanie stood near the door and scanned the crowd. After the bracing wind outside, the sudden heat and noise made her dizzy. No sleep and very little food-she was running on fumes. She shrugged out of her coat, taking a deep breath.

“You see your friends?” Linda shouted over the din.

“Not yet. Looking.”

“Hey,” Linda called after a moment. She leaned closer to Melanie. “There’s a major hottie in the corner checking you out like you’re a thick, juicy steak and he’s a starving man.”

“Where?”

“Over there, but-No, don’t look, you no-brain!”

“That’s Dan.”

“What?”

“C’mon,” Melanie said, grabbing Linda by the arm.

Dan was staring at her. And somehow, in these clothes, in this place, she could handle it. As she walked toward him, their eyes locked, and everything else fell away. Blood pounded in her veins. She forgot about their almost love affair, their sort of breakup, the nights she’d spent alone obsessing over the way things had ended. She looked right back at him and let herself remember how he kissed.

“That’s him? His body is sick,” Linda said.

“Shut up now, or I’m gonna smack you,” Melanie said.

Bridget Mulqueen and Trevor Leonard, sitting on bar stools beyond Dan, popped into view as they drew near. She waved to them, not even trying to make herself heard over the racket. Dan stood up.

“Look at you,” was all he said, but there was a soft light in his eyes that she wanted to memorize.

“My sister dressed me up so I could pass muster. This is Linda. She’s gonna get us into Screen.”

Dan shook Linda’s hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Linda said. “Mel mentioned you once or twice.”

“Oh, yeah?” He glanced at Melanie, looking gratified.

“Enough small talk,” Melanie said. “We need to go over our plan.”

“Was she always so serious like this?” Dan asked Linda.

“Yeah, since she was a kid. That’s how she got into those fancy schools.”

“I admire that about her,” he said.

“Will you guys stop?” Melanie said, though she was eating it up. “Let’s talk business.”

She had told Linda that they were investigating heroin dealing at area nightclubs but given no indication that Esposito himself was their target or that the case was relating to the Holbrooke girls’ deaths. She’d disclosed enough to warn Linda of the risks of the operation, without giving her details that could compromise their plan or put Linda in additional danger.

“So how do you know where Screen is?” he asked Linda.

“A friend of mine deejays for Expo sometimes, and he gets me in. Tonight they’re set up in this abandoned subway station a few blocks from here. They bribed some guys from the MTA. You get on a certain train, and if you’re on the list, they let you stay on when they go out of service. When they turn around at the end of the line, they open the doors for you-and presto, you’re in Screen.”

“It must be the old City Hall station,” Dan said, nodding. “It was the jewel of the IRT before they shut it. The tile work on the arches is some of the most beautiful you’re ever gonna see.”

“Have you been in there?” Melanie asked.

“Yeah. Buddy of mine in the transit police took me on a tour once.” He leaned closer to Melanie. “I know you think I’m about as sharp as a marble, but I’m really interested in stuff like that. I’ll even go to an arty movie now and then.”

“I don’t think that,” Melanie said, looking up into his crystal blue eyes.

“You don’t?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“So listen,” Linda shouted. “My buddy Fabulous Deon can get a few of us in, but I’m not sure how many. And everybody has to look the part.” She studied Dan, frowning.

“I don’t fit the bill, huh?” he asked.

“To me you’re a little too big and clean-looking. Honestly, you look like a cop,” Linda replied.

Dan looked handsome and respectable in khaki pants and a navy V-necked sweater with a T-shirt under it. Melanie felt offended on his behalf.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she protested to Linda. “He looks like every one of these traders in here. I bet they could get into Screen, so why can’t he?”

“I’m just saying-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dan said. “No need to have family strife over this. I know the layout. I’ll figure out how to get myself in on the tracks. But those two over there”-he nodded toward Bridget and Trevor-“should go in the front door to make it believable.”

“And me,” Melanie said.

“Who said you were going in?” Dan asked.

“Bernadette. She wants me to vet the ops plans, make sure nothing gets screwed up. It’s sensitive stuff, and she doesn’t trust Bridget or Trevor.”

Dan took her by the elbow and pulled her aside, out of Linda’s earshot.

“You got to be fucking kidding me,” he said. “Even if the Bureau let prosecutors review our ops plans, which we don’t, and even if we let prosecutors ride along on buys, which we totally don’t, I wouldn’t let you put yourself in harm’s way.”

“Well, thank you. I appreciate your concern. But this is not your call. Bernadette wants it done this way. This is an ENTF case, not a Bureau case, and Albano’s in agreement with her. So you’re outvoted.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Craziest thing I ever heard. And don’t pretend you don’t agree.”

“Hey, what’s the big deal? I’ll keep out of the way. With you there I’m not so worried about things going wrong, but still, I’m the one who looked Trevor in the eye and promised he’d be safe. Remember what happened to Rosario Sangrador,” Melanie said, and at the very mention of Rosario’s name, her eyes welled up. She’d never forgive herself for that.

Dan’s face softened. “It means that much to you?”

“Of course it does.”

“Okay, I’ll go along with you, but listen up, sweetheart. You step out of line and get crazy on me, I’m pulling the plug on the drug buy. We clear on that?”

“Dan-”

“Just say yes. That’s the only answer I’ll accept.”

“I’m not planning to do anything risky. I promise.”

He looked at her quizzically, then broke into a grin. “Don’t think you’re getting over on me here. I see what you’re doing. Jeez, you lawyers, always with the sneaky language.”

“If you’re done scolding me, can we go over the plan?”

“What do you want to know?”

“First off, is Trevor wired?” she whispered, glancing around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. With the noise level in here, not much danger of that.

“Not until we get the lay of the land,” Dan said. “Who knows, they could be doing pat-downs at the door. Besides, with the club underground in the subway tunnel, it’d be tough to pick up a signal anyway.”

“Has Trevor been searched?”

“Yes, ma’am. I go by the book, every time.”

Before making a controlled buy, a careful agent searched the cooperating witness to prevent him from sneaking in his own drugs and claiming he’d bought them from the target. For the price of a few Baggies and a little perjured testimony, many a drug dealer had bought himself a nice sentencing reduction without doing the heavy lifting of actually infiltrating the target’s organization. Dan was too thorough to let an informant scam him like that.

“What’s the ops plan once everybody’s inside?” Melanie asked.

“Bridget sticks with Trevor every step of the way. He makes the contact with Expo’s people, but she does the hand-to-hand. She tries to buy dime bags. We recorded the serial numbers on the buy money in advance ’cause that’s procedure, but prob’ly we let the money walk this time. Don’t make any arrests, try to build to something bigger. Ideally get a cell number or something, see if we can work up a wiretap.”

Melanie had been listening with great attentiveness. Now she looked over at Bridget and Trevor, who were laughing together conspiratorially. Bridget was wearing tight jeans, a black T-shirt, and boots, and she’d made up her eyes. She actually looked cute in a butch sort of way, but very young.

“You really think she’s up to this?” Melanie asked.

“Only one way to find out.”

“Seriously, Dan.”

“Look, she was on the mark with that text message before. I think we’re underestimating her. Weren’t you the one who said to give her the benefit of the doubt?”

Melanie sighed. If something got screwed up here…man, she couldn’t even stand to think about it. Still, there wasn’t much more she could do. In fairness to Dan, ops were really his baby.

“Okay,” she said, nodding.

He signaled to the rest of their group. “We ready?”

Linda looked at her watch. “Yeah. Fab D should be at the station by now.”

“Let’s go,” Melanie said.

FABULOUS DEON KNEW how to command a room. Resplendent in a calf-length mink coat, orange trousers, and patent-leather spats, he sported short, bleached-blond braids that stuck up all over his head like horns. His brown face was plump and sweetly feminine, his eyes sparkling with silver glitter eye shadow, so that the wispy little soul patch on his chin came as a surprise. His dubious gender and wild attire drew amused looks from some passersby in the subway station, while most others simply ignored him. This was New York, after all. Still, Melanie thought, they weren’t sneaking in under the radar with this dude as their escort.

Deon waved excitedly to Linda, who rushed up to him.

“Hello, gorgeous!” Deon cried, double-air-kissing Linda while looking past her at Melanie. “Don’t tell me this is your gorgeous sister! So much fabulousness in one family is just too much to bear!”

“Don’t worry, D,” Linda said. “She’s not really fabulous. I just dressed her up tonight.”

“She has to make a comment,” Melanie said, smiling broadly. This guy was a trip. No wonder Linda liked him.

“Really, mee-ow. Don’t listen to her, sweet sister! You’re absolutely beyond. The problem won’t be getting you into Screen, it’ll be fighting them off.”

“Thank you! This is my new best friend,” she said to Linda, as Fabulous Deon air-kissed her, too.

“Those are her buds over there. What do you think?” Linda asked Deon, pointing to where Bridget and Trevor stood, beside a grimy pillar, going over some last-minute instructions.

“Rest easy,” Deon said. “The pierced boy with dreadlocks will fit right in. Blondie’s no problem either. If she were a bit scrawnier, she’d even look heroin chic.”

Heroin-he doesn’t know how right he is, Melanie thought. “So, Deon, did Linda fill you in on what I do? I want you to have your eyes open. Because there’s some risk-”

“Oh, pshaw! I bring people to clubs all the time without the teensiest clue who they are. That is par for the course. Nobody would ever dream of holding it against me if somebody turns out to be a narc.”

“Still, a drug bust in Expo’s club would reflect badly on him, and he’s no pussycat.”

“Funny you should mention that. The fact is, I have a bone to pick with Jay Esposito. The man owes me over three thousand dollars for work I’ve done for him and never been paid for. And when I tried to collect, he blackballed me at several other clubs. You have no idea how helpless I felt until La Linda called me up tonight. You’re doing me a big favor by putting me in a position to exact some payback.”

“If you’re sure,” Melanie said.

“I’m sure.”

“Oh, and it’s okay to use Linda’s real name. They’ll probably recognize her from TV anyway. But you and Linda only just met me and these others guys at a club earlier tonight, okay, and you don’t know us very well.”

Deon nodded. “Smart idea, precious. Do you have a favorite alias?”

They worked out fake names for everybody on Melanie’s team.

“Ah, here’s our train, my chickens!” Deon exclaimed, as a southbound six rumbled into the station.

They all got on.

“Come, children. We have to go to the first car,” said Fabulous Deon.

They’d gotten on about five cars from the front, so they slowly made their way forward through the moving train. Heavy sliding metal doors at both ends of the cars opened onto narrow platforms. Melanie stepped carefully across the couplings as the train bucked ahead, wary of tripping in the borrowed stiletto heels, holding her breath against the acrid fumes and ricocheting sparks in the open tunnels. When they reached the first car, it was relatively empty, and they all found seats on a bench across from the conductor’s booth. Within minutes the train pulled into the Brooklyn Bridge station, opening its doors and turning off its lights to indicate it was going out of service. An announcement came on, telling everybody to exit.

“Stay here,” Deon said, and went to knock on the conductor’s booth.

The door slid open. Deon conversed briefly with the heavyset man inside, who consulted a list and nodded. Cash changed hands. Deon returned to his seat and flashed them an “okay” sign. A few minutes later, its lights still off, the train lurched forward. Looking out the window, Melanie saw blackness. A moment later the tracks curved, the train reached its southernmost point and just began to turn sharply uptown. A tumultuous scene came into view. Spotlights bounced off the soaring, tiled arches of a dimly lit, turn-of-the-previous-century subway station. The platform was mobbed with hundreds of writhing bodies dancing to earsplitting techno-pop music.

Melanie leaned forward and made eye contact with Bridget. “Are you all set?” she asked in a low tone, so Linda and Deon wouldn’t hear.

Bridget took a deep breath. “No prob. If Esposito sells it, we’ll find it.”

The subway stopped; its doors opened.

“This is us,” Fabulous Deon said, standing up.

They followed him off the train into the hot press of the crowd. Within minutes Bridget and Trevor had disappeared. Melanie would just have to trust the young detective to do her job properly and keep a watchful eye on Trevor. In the meantime she’d do some snooping around herself.

“What’s the plan?” Melanie shouted into Fabulous Deon’s ear.

“Let’s hit the bar. This way.”

Melanie and Linda followed as Fabulous Deon snaked his way through the densely packed crowd. The revelers were all young and gorgeous, the cream of New York City’s clubgoers in all their finery. Pants were tight, tops revealing, and heels high, yet everybody managed to look sleek and sophisticated rather than cheesy. Melanie felt relieved Linda had dressed her up; she wouldn’t have had a clue what to wear otherwise, and she would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb. Although the place was so jammed that most likely nobody would’ve noticed. The noise level hovered at a roar, swelling to a deafening clamor every few minutes as a train screeched into the station to discharge new revelers.

After waiting in line to check their coats, Melanie, Linda, and Fabulous Deon fought their way up to a mahogany bar set against a wall under an elaborate tile mosaic that spelled out “City Hall.” The three curvaceous blond bartenders wore identical low-slung jeans and tiny halter tops that revealed pierced navels. After several attempts Linda got a bartender’s attention and ordered them apple martinis. When the drinks came, Melanie took a sip of hers and gasped.

“Powerful,” she choked out, eyes tearing up.

“They have a heavy hand here,” Linda said. “It’s one of the reasons Expo does well. He doesn’t stint on the liquor. Speak of the devil-that’s him. Told you he always puts in an appearance.”

Linda nudged her and gestured toward a tall, muscular guy with a shaved head who stood between two lithe models at the far end of the bar. Jay Esposito looked every inch the mobbed-up nightclub mogul. He was maybe forty, with handsome, Mediterranean features and dark eyebrows. In the middle of a New York winter, his attire was pure South Beach-a white linen suit and a black silk T-shirt setting off a deep tan, an enormous diamond stud glittering in one ear. As she watched, he threw his head back and guffawed, revealing a flash of white teeth. Melanie could see why a messed-up wild child like Whitney Seward would be attracted to this guy. He gave off criminal charisma like musk.

The target was right there in front of her. Down, girl, down. She should stay where she was. Sit back and allow events to take their course without injecting herself. Let the agents do their job. She scanned the jam-packed club, looking for Bridget and Trevor. Wherever they were, they weren’t anywhere near Expo. Still, it wasn’t her place. Even if this opportunity slipped through their fingers, surely somehow another would come along. She’d find Carmen Reyes anyway. Right?

Melanie turned to her sister abruptly. “Introduce me,” she snapped, gesturing toward Esposito.

“I don’t know him. But Fab D can hook us up.”

Fabulous Deon was busy hitting on the bodybuilder type standing next to him at the bar. Linda tapped Deon on the shoulder. He leaned over, lips pursed in an annoyed moue.

“Honeychild, I am otherwise engaged.”

“Fab D, are you blind?” Linda said. “That guy’s straight.”

“You think so?”

“Mos’ def. Come introduce us to Expo before you get the shit kicked out of you.”

“Oh, yes. I’m going to enjoy this. Come along.”

Deon sashayed ahead, beckoning to them to follow. As they approached, Esposito caught sight of Deon and waved at him with a fat cigar held between thumb and forefinger.

“Deon,” Esposito said in a whiny voice, “why aren’t you working tonight?”

“Funny you should ask, sire. Perhaps because you didn’t book me and haven’t paid me for the last six times you did?”

“Yeah, well, whaddaya want, things’ve been slow. Maybe if you’d stop whining like a little bitch, I’d tell my booker to call you.” Esposito looked at Melanie and Linda appraisingly. “So introduce me to your friends.”

“This is Linda Vargas, from Channel Sixteen, and her friend…uh…what did you say your name was, precious?” Deon asked.

“Marilyn Corona,” Melanie said to Expo. “I just met these guys at another club, and they dragged me over here. They said Screen was way cool, and they’re right.”

As Esposito’s eyes raked over her body, Melanie imagined she saw a flicker of suspicion. “Yeah? What club were you just at?” he asked.

“Railroad Forty-seven,” Deon answered quickly, thank God, because Melanie couldn’t’ve come up with a club name to save her life.

“Yeah, that place is a fucking pit,” Esposito said, seeming mollified. “What’re you girls drinking?”

“Appletinis,” Linda replied.

“Cindy, apple martinis over here for my friends,” he called to one of the blond bartenders, who slapped fresh drinks on the bar for them instantly. At Esposito’s merest gesture, several patrons vacated their bar stools so Melanie and Linda could sit down.

“Thank you,” Melanie said.

“Don’t mention it.” He leaned across her and mashed out his cigar in the remnants of somebody’s drink. She caught a whiff of spicy cologne.

“Good crowd tonight, Expo,” Linda said loudly, arching her back so her chest stuck out. It worked, because Esposito started talking to her cleavage.

“Yeah, we’re busy this week. People still in town, but they’re celebratin’,” he said.

“You really come up with some hot locales. I’m crazy for this subway thing. In fact, I’d love to feature it in my nightlife segment.” Linda was looking up at Esposito from under perfectly mascaraed eyelashes. Melanie nearly laughed out loud at her sister’s blatantness. The girl loved to work the celebs.

“Nah, you know, I like press on my big clubs, but Screen I keep on the DL or else it loses its cachet.”

“Oh, sure, I get it.”

“You wanna cover the bash I’m doing down in Palm Beach on New Year’s Eve, though, I’ll get you on the list.” Something behind them seemed to catch his eye. “Hold on a second,” he said, and walked away.

Linda leaned over. “You think he likes me? He could really help my career, you know.”

“You’re not serious!” Melanie wrinkled her nose.

“Chica, that’s why God invented dimmer switches.”

“His looks aren’t bad, Lin. It’s the fact that he’s a major criminal that bothers me.”

“That’s just PR! He cultivates that image to promote his clubs.”

“Yeah, why do you think I’m here?” she said under her breath.

Melanie restrained herself from regaling Linda with tales of the evidence against Expo. Doing that while sitting in his bar was not a smart idea. She glanced around and spotted him, standing out like a beacon in his white suit. He was talking to an enormous guy with an angry, dimesize scar on his left cheek-presumably the bodyguard who’d been asking about the case in Judge Warner’s courtroom earlier today. As she watched, they both turned and looked directly at her. The little hairs on Melanie’s arms stood on end.

Calm down, she told herself. Gabriel Colón had said nothing when those thugs visited the courthouse looking for information, and Melanie was using a false name. Esposito couldn’t possibly have a clue who she was. Granted, Linda had given her real name, and the two of them did look alike. But still…

The bodyguard seemed to melt away into the crowd. Esposito walked casually back to the bar and threw his arm around Melanie’s shoulder. Claustrophobia overwhelmed her instantly, but she steeled herself to accept his touch. A young girl was missing, and this might be a significant opportunity to find out more.

Copying Linda, Melanie smiled up at Esposito through flirtatious lashes.

“You’re back,” she said, in her most seductive voice, like she’d been waiting with bated breath.

“You’re set, the botha youse. I put your names on all my lists. Anything you want in my clubs, just ask.”

That must’ve been what he’d been talking to the bodyguard about. She breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Cool,” Linda said, nodding but looking at Melanie with obvious confusion.

Esposito’s thick fingers caressed Melanie’s exposed back. She forced herself not to pull away. She’d make conversation, see where it went. If he liked her, maybe he’d give her some private cell number they weren’t aware of or tell her some unknown address.

“It must be a lot of pressure, being a celebrity and all,” she said, looking up at him seductively.

“Fuckin’ A. But I love every second of it. You wanna know what my secret is?”

“You bet I do.”

“Work hard, play hard. Do business all day, party all night. Blows off the steam.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Melanie said, and took a swig of the appletini. It was going down easier with every minute that passed.

“Hey, if you like to have a good time, I can hook you up,” Expo said, his fingers inching down her back toward her derriere.

“Yeah? What’ve you got in mind?”

“What’s your pleasure? I have a little office in the back where I transact my private business. I can arrange whatever goodies you like. You name it, we got it.”

Esposito’s office, which was full of drugs? How tempting was that? But no, really, she’d promised Dan-no heroics. Well, maybe “promised” was too strong a word. Hadn’t it been more like a statement of intention? And here circumstances had changed and all…

“You interested or not?” Esposito demanded. “Because if not, plenty of others are.”

“I’m game,” Melanie said. She had to do this. Carmen was still missing.

“What about you?” Expo asked Linda, and then he winked, saying, “I can handle two girls at once.”

Nervous as Melanie was about being alone with this guy, no way was she exposing Linda to danger.

“I’m not into that,” Melanie said firmly. “She’s here with someone anyway, right?”

Linda’s eyes widened. Melanie couldn’t tell if her sister understood what was going on or not. “Ri-ight,” Linda said, hesitantly at first, then, “yeah, I’m with somebody.”

“What the hell, it was worth a shot. Catch you later, then. Come on, you,” Esposito said, yanking Melanie to her feet. The room swam. She’d been stupid to guzzle that drink, but it tasted so good going down. Man, she was pathetic at holding her liquor.

“Hey, Linda,” Melanie said, putting all the significance she could manage into her facial expression, “find my friends and tell them I’m hanging out with Expo, okay? Will you do that for me, so they know where I am?”

“Okay.”

Esposito took Melanie firmly by the arm and began to steer her toward the far end of the subway platform, where the tiled walls curved away into the blackness of the tunnel. Melanie threw a final, imploring glance over her shoulder to Linda, who had already turned away and was heading toward the dance floor. Melanie thought that Linda had understood, that she’d go find Bridget and give her a heads-up. God, she hoped so.

Esposito’s powerful fingers bit painfully into her wrist as he pulled her through the crowd. He leaned over, his lips grazing her ear. “I love to party with Spanish girls, you know.”

Oh, great, score one for la raza.

“Really?”

“Yeah. What’s your name again?”

“Marilyn.”

“You remind me of this old girlfriend of mine, Mirta. She was hot. Unbelievable blow jobs, this girl could give. She had no gag reflex. She died, though. Very sad.”

“How’d that happen?” Melanie asked, her antennae up. No gag reflex. Could come in handy for more than just blow jobs. But Esposito acted like he hadn’t heard her.

They had reached the far end of the platform. Esposito pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and shone it into the tunnel beyond. Melanie heard scurrying noises as the beam of light bounced off grimy walls, illuminating nothing. God, it was dark in there. As if from nowhere, the bodyguard with the bullet-hole scar materialized, nodded to Esposito, and took up a position at the edge of the tunnel. Even if somebody came looking for her now, Melanie had the sneaking suspicion Bulletface wouldn’t let them pass. Whether Esposito wanted sex or had something more sinister in mind, Melanie was forced to admit that this was shaping up into a pretty bad idea. She needed to get away from this guy. Now.

“I think I heard rats,” she said, stopping dead at the edge of the tunnel and beginning to backpedal. “I’m not going in there.”

Had Linda found Bridget or Dan? Where the hell were they? She turned frantically, her eyes searching the turbulent crowd to no avail. Melanie was running out of time. Esposito tightened his grip on her wrist just as another number-six train roared onto the curving tracks.

“Fuck the rats, hon,” Esposito said, yanking her practically off her feet. “I’ll take care a’ ya. Let’s go.”