Part 31 (1/2)
”Well, everything turned out okay. So he shouldn't be-”
”Look, he's still backing us isn't he? He's over it.”
Vince grunted. ”s.h.i.+t, the way things are going, that might have been our best shot to get Gillette.”
”He's like a d.a.m.n cat,” Tom agreed. ”It's like he's got nine lives or something.”
”Yeah, and we've only taken a few shots at him so he's got a lot more left.” Vince turned to look at his brother. ”The guy Stiles's people killed today on Park Avenue-any way at all he can be linked to us?”
”No,” Tom said firmly. ”It was all in cash between us, and there were no relations.h.i.+ps between him and anyone at our firm. I checked before I hired him.” He chuckled. ”Besides, the cops aren't buying Stiles's explanation that it was a hit gone bad. They think it was a case of road rage. Some woman at the scene told the cops she saw the whole thing. That the guy driving Gillette's car cut our guy off. That the guy jumped out of the car screaming and yelling with a gun right after he got cut off.” Tom laughed harder. ”Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good. I can guarantee you our guy wasn't screaming and yelling.”
”Why would the woman lie like that?”
”Who the h.e.l.l knows? Maybe she liked the attention she was getting from the cops.”
”What about cell phone calls?” Vince asked.
”What do you mean?”
”Did he ever call you on his cell?”
”Never. Always used a pay phone and a prepaid calling card.”
”You can't be sure of that.”
”I'm sure, Vince. When he called, the area codes that came up on my caller ID were always from the cities he was in. And, even if on the off chance he did call me on a cell phone once or twice, so what? What does that prove?”
”Did he talk to you right before he tried to kill Gillette?”
”No. It was the day before.”
Vince took a deep breath. ”Good.”
Tom scanned the area. There was a woman with a baby carriage sitting on a bench fifty feet away. She was definitely out of earshot as long as he kept his voice down. ”Look, we've got to get Gillette, and we've to do it fast. You agree?”
Vince nodded.
”And at this point I'd feel better if I called in someone I had complete faith in. I know it's risky. I know it could link us, but we don't have any choice.”
”Who are you thinking about?” Vince asked.
”Dominick,” Tom answered immediately. ”He's the best.”
Vince looked out over the harbor for a few moments, then finally nodded. ”Yeah, call him.”
Cohen emerged from the Clark Street subway station into bright sunlight and glanced at his watch. One fifteen. He was early, but he wasn't familiar with Brooklyn Heights so being early was good. He had no idea how far the walk was.
”Excuse me,” he called to a woman pa.s.sing by.
”What?” she snapped.
”Which way is the promenade?”
She pointed. ”That way. Just keep walking. You can't miss it.”
Mason sat down in front of Strazzi's desk. As usual, Strazzi was smoking a big fat cigar. Mason hated smoke, especially cigar smoke. ”h.e.l.lo, Paul.”
”Mr. Strazzi.”
Mason's eyes flashed to Strazzi's. Yesterday, Strazzi hadn't wanted that. ”Huh?”
”Call me 'Mr. Strazzi' today.”
”Why?”
”Because I feel like it.”
Strazzi was certifiable. Mason already sensed that others at Apex thought the same thing but weren't willing to say so because they were afraid they were being listened to. Mason had heard rumors about the office being bugged. But Strazzi was paying him $3 million in salary. Guaranteed for one year, thanks to the employment contract he had signed yesterday. If Strazzi wanted to be called 'Buddha,' so be it. ”Um, okay, Mr. Mr. Strazzi.” Strazzi.”
Strazzi took a long drag off the cigar. ”It's time for you to earn that big salary I'm paying you, Troy.”
”I thought I already was.”
”Do you enjoy Vicky, boy?”
Mason glanced up, his head suddenly pounding. He and Vicky had gone to the Parker Meridian Hotel three times this week: two lunches and once after work. ”What do you mean?” he asked innocently.
”You know exactly what I mean. You and Vicky are s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g like rabbits.” Strazzi was smiling broadly behind his cigar. ”I bet your wife would go ballistic if she found out you were banging a secretary.” Strazzi laughed harshly. ”After less than a week here, too. Nice, Troy.”
So p.i.s.sed off she'd leave him immediately, Mason knew. Melissa had already told him if there was one more incident, she was gone. And that she'd pry as much out of him as the flamethrower lawyer she hired could pry. Running up big legal bills in the process. ”Mr. Strazzi, I don't-”
”Don't waste my time, Troy.” Strazzi tapped the cigar on the round ashtray. An inch-long ash tumbled to the gla.s.s. ”I know what's going on, but your secret's safe with me. I just want information.”
”Information?”
”Yeah.”
”What kind of information?”
”About the Everest portfolio companies.”
Mason tugged at his collar. ”What about them?”
”I need to know where the problems are.”
”Problems?”
”The dirty laundry, boy,” Strazzi said, exasperated. ”Every private equity firm has problems in the portfolio. I want to know about Everest's.”
Mason gazed over the desk at Strazzi. He should have guessed. This was the real reason he'd been hired. ”Why?”