Читать книгу Sucker Punch - Marc Strange - Страница 7

When I get back to the office, Gritch is odourizing the room with cigar exhaust and Arnie McKellar is squatting at the second desk, filling out his report and bitching about the “special ushers” handling security on Floor Eleven for the civic function.

“They don’t ask me for ID. I ask them for ID. Where do they get off?”

“Why bother with Floor Eleven in the first place?” Gritch says. “Not your responsibility.”

“Maybe not, but I’m entitled to check it out without getting hassled by assholes in red jackets. Where do they hire these guys?”

“Leave Floor Eleven alone,” I say as I come in. “And leave your report. You’re going out again.”

Arnie doesn’t want to go. “I gotta eat something.”

Gritch snorts cigar smoke. Arnie McKellar is obese. A furtive eater, never satisfied, always hard done by, as if somebody stole his lunch pail.

“Just stand in the hall on fifteen where you can see the doors to the Governor’s Suite.”

“How long?” he asks. “I was going home.”

“Just stand in the hall until I can think of a better plan. I’ll send you home as soon as I can.”

Arnie puts on his jacket and slouches out. Gritch shakes his head. He thinks I should can Arnie. I’d like to. I cut Arnie extra slack as a personal favour to Lloyd Gruber, keeping him on staff long past the point I would have fired someone without an in-house connection.

“While he’s mooching around on Floor Eleven looking for free hors d’oeuvres, Maurice has probably ushered three working girls up the back way,” Gritch says.

“You get hold of Dan?” I ask him.

“His wife says he’s sleeping. I think he’s playing cards somewhere or trying to hitch a ride home from the track. She says he’ll call as soon as she can wake him up, which means track him down. I should have told her to try his mother’s place.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Not me, pal.”

I pick up the phone. “Melanie, Joe Grundy. We need a room on fifteen. Can you move somebody? Give ’em a better view or something? I’ve got Arnie standing in the hall up there, but we don’t need that all night. Yeah, I’ll be here.”

“So?” Gritch isn’t satisfied with the way his cigar stump is drawing.

“He’s going to give it away.”

“Who what?” He’s looking for matches.

“The kid upstairs. He’s handing it out to anybody who shows up.”

“That’ll make him popular.” He locates a forgotten Bic lighter in the second desk and fires up.

“The whole six hundred and eighty-eight million.”

“Is he nuts?” Gritch has it going again.

“I don’t think so. He’s kind of a sweet guy. That’s how he comes across. But we’ve got a problem. He’s holding a press conference in the morning. Once word gets out…”

”?“He’s going to hand it out here

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll go watch the lobby.”

“Maybe you should get some sleep,” I suggest. “Use my bed. I’m good for four hours or so. I’ll wake you up.”

“I’ll go doze in the lobby with one eye open.”

“Yeah, okay, but not with that thing.”

He takes a last blast off the cigar and leaves it behind to die a natural death in the ashtray.

Melanie calls back as soon as I’ve flushed the cigar stub down the donniker. “Mel? What did you get?”

“You can have 1507,” she says. “I moved the Bryants to the corner suite on nine. It’s a better room. They’re happy. You want 1507 made up?”

“Leave it messy. It’ll be fine. Tell Margo I’ll keep somebody in there all the time with the door open a bit. Keep an eye on who goes in and out. I’ll come see her as soon as I set it up. You’re the best.”

When I get back up to fifteen, Arnie is leaning against the wall near the elevators like a guy who wants to sell reefers to kids. I open 1507. Melanie’s got us a good base camp. With the door open a foot or so, you can see both of the Governor’s Suite’s doors, 1502 and 1504. I move a chair over beside the door.

“Keep the lights on, but don’t play the television,” I tell Arnie. “Just watch until Dan gets here, maybe an hour, then you can go home. But I’ll need you back by nine in the morning.”

“I’m supposed to get a day off.”

“You’re going to get double time for the extra hours, Arnie, and all you have to do is sit up straight and pay attention. If that’s too tough for you, then you can walk. Permanently. You hear what I’m saying?”

“I’m just saying —”

“You’re just complaining, Arnie, which is what you do most of the time when you aren’t filling your face. Normally, I don’t mind a whole helluva lot, but tonight I’d appreciate it if you’d just do the job.”

Arnie doesn’t bother to argue anymore. He plunks himself in the chair like a kid who’s been cuffed on the back of the head, then fumbles inside his jacket pocket for a bag of M&M’s. “What am I looking for?”

“Trouble,” I tell him. “We don’t want any.”

I go back down to the main floor again where I find Margo in Lloyd’s office, looking beleaguered. She tilts her head when I walk in. Axelrode is still there, sitting in the corner. Margo’s eyes shift to indicate the guy and then back to me with an eyebrow jump that tells me she wants him out of there.

“Mr. Axelrode,” I say, “is there anything else we can do for you, sir?”

“I still think you’re going to need some professionals,” he says. “You’re going to have big problems when he starts shooting off his mouth on TV. You’re going to have every freeloader on the coast lined up with their hands out.”

“Are you associated with Mr. Buznardo, sir?”

“I have an interest in his security and the security of the cash he’s carrying.”

“You with a bank?”

He looks annoyed. He doesn’t like explaining himself. “No, I’m not with a bank.”

“Oh,” I say. “Because if you don’t have any official relationship with Mr. Buznardo, perhaps you could worry about his welfare somewhere else. Ms. Traynor has a big hotel to run.”

He stands again. I think he’s used to things happening when he stands. “I’m not at all satisfied things are being attended to.”

“There’s a good jazz club down one flight.” I’m crowding him towards the door. “Or you could wait in the lobby. For a while.”

Axelrode stops, glares at me, doesn’t like people in his face. He stretches his neck to show me how ready he is. “If anything happens to Mr. Buznardo, I’ll be asking some serious questions.”

“Why don’t you go and talk to Mr. Buznardo yourself and tell him how concerned you are? He seems like a nice enough guy. Very welcoming.”

He sneers. “He’s an idiot, and I wouldn’t piss on him if he caught fire. But it’s my job to keep an eye on him until they can clean up the mess he’s made.”

“And who would ‘they’ be, sir?”

He gives me a scowl he probably saves for lower life forms and stalks out.

“Thanks,” Margo says.

“How long has he been here?”

“He went out for a while, said he had to make some calls, then waltzed back in and started telling me what’s wrong with our operation. He was pretty thorough.”

“You know where he fits into this?”

“He says he works for Prescott Holdings. Up until this afternoon Prescott Holdings controlled more than a half-billion dollars of the late Parker Prescott’s money.”

“I guess it’s hard to let go sometimes.”

“How many people have you got, really?”

“It’s thin,” I tell her. “Black Jack’s taking his week. He’s fishing the Kispiox. No way to get him. Arthur Blomquist went to work for NightWatch.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Good man. I couldn’t match what they were offer ing him.”

“How much were they offering?”

“The company, more or less.”

“Maybe we should call the police,” Margo says.

“We’ll be okay for tonight. There’ll be three of us rotating. I’ll line up some replacements in the morning.”

“Will you talk to Leo? With Mr. Gruber not here I’m feeling a bit exposed.”

“You’re doing great,” I tell her.

“Tonight’s an unusual situation.”

I’m back in my office when Arnie calls down from 1507.

“He’s got a visitor. Some girl showed up. They kissed, hugged, jumped around. Happy to see each other.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s all. Dan here yet?”

“No. He’s not here in half an hour, I’ll send Gritch up to take over. That okay? You can hang in that long?”

“I guess.”

“That’s nice he got a visitor.”

“Good-looking, too. Redhead. Hold it, they’re coming out. I’ll get back to you.”

“Coming down the elevator?”

“Wait a sec.” There’s a pause while he steps out into the hall to check, then he’s back. “No, they went right by it. All the way down the hall. Knocked on 1529. Invited inside. Visiting the neighbours.”

“Okay, I’ll come by in about twenty minutes.”

I hang up and check my watch: 9:05. Leo will be watching television. I might have to watch a repeat of Frasier or something. Gritch comes in from the lobby and looks around for his cigar stub.

“It’s long gone, partner,” I say.

“I was getting to the good part.”

“Those things don’t have a good part. What’s happen ing with Dan?”

“Danny boy’s on his way in. His wife says he just woke up. If you believe that, I’ve got a deal for you on some swampland.”

“I’m going up to talk to the old man. When Dan gets here, send him up to relieve Arnie, then you grab some sack time in my room. I’m going to need you when Dan takes off.”

“Like what, you figure — 1:00 a.m.?”

“Yeah, like that. One, one-thirty. Dan’s got to grab some sleep and get back here as early as he can. We’re going to have to pick up a couple of people for tomorrow. Maybe from Moonlight.”

“Those guys make me nervous,” Gritch says.

“They’re like Mormons, with their black suits and short haircuts. I keep expecting them to hand me a tract.”

“I know. Neat, polite, professional. Helluva way to run an operation.”

I get back on the elevator. Up and down. Half my life. I need the special elevator key to rise all the way. Leo lives on top, high above the fifteenth floor. Has for the past seven years. His apartments are in the dome. The view used to be better before all the high-rises and skyscrapers cut off some of his sightlines to the harbour, but it’s still an impressive aerie. I think it’s the main reason he won’t sell the place.

Leo Alexander is seventy-two now. Retired since that night seven years ago. Gave control of most of his business to his two sons, Theo and Lenny, fifty and forty-six respectively, with the proviso they leave the Lord Douglas alone. Neither one lives at the hotel and they don’t speak to each other unless they have to. Leo doesn’t much care for either one of his offspring, but he’s done okay by them. They can’t sell the Lord Douglas while Leo is alive.

There’s an NFL game on tonight. I’d forgotten about that. The New York Jets are at home to the Oakland Raiders. It’s running late. It’s past midnight on the East Coast.

“Ever been to Oakland, Joseph?” Leo asks.

“Yes, sir. Twice.”

“How did you do?”

“I won.”

“Both times?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The city has good memories for you.”

“I don’t remember the city. I remember a short guy who hit me so hard I wet myself inside my cup.”

“Fumble!” Leo says.

Leo wears a track suit to watch sporting events. This evening’s garment is navy blue velour with a thin burgundy stripe. It’s very handsome. I won’t compliment him on it. If I do, he’ll buy me one.

“Can’t anyone catch a pass? That’s twice he’s been open.”

End of the third quarter. There’s a break in the action and the television screen is taken over by new cars, great beers, discounts on long-distance calls, more new cars. Leo lights a cigar. “Want one?”

“No thanks, sir.”

He mutes the TV with his remote and turns to look at me. He’s still got all his hair, keeps it short, that’s how much he has. And he’s in good shape for a man his age — skinny but not feeble. His hands don’t shake, his eyes are clear, and his voice is strong. Don’t know why he doesn’t get out more, but I guess that’s his business.

“So, Joe, how are things?”

“We have a bit of excitement tonight. Margo’s a little concerned.”

“Miss Traynor? Always liked that girl. She started what, eight years ago?”

“Something like that, sir.”

“Nice girl, brown hair, the same shade as my first wife’s, bless her heart. What’s she worried about?”

“Security for a guest with a lot of cash.”

“You can handle it.”

“She was just wondering if there was anything more you wanted her to do.”

“Tell Miss Traynor I have the utmost confidence in her.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll tell her.”

“Want to watch the last quarter?”

“I’d better get back, sir. I’m bringing in an extra man for the night.”

“Good, you do that.”

I head for the door. One of the maids, Raquel, I think, is turning down his bed. Leo probably gets two chocolates.

“Our guest with all the cash?”

“Yes, sir, it’s a Mr. Buznardo. He inherited a lot of money.”

“He did more than that. He’s got a hundred charities scared witless they’re going to lose their funding. He’s putting at least a thousand people who’ve been nursing at the Prescott Holdings teat for twenty years out of a job, and he made Wade Hubble look like a grifter in front of the whole country.”

“All that?”

“Took him two years in court against some of the highest-priced legal talent in the city.”

“He must have had a good lawyer.”

“Buznardo? Ha! He had Alvin Neagle handling it.” Leo shakes his head. “I remember when Alvin was chasing ambulances. I guess some people rise to the occasion when they know they might win the big one.”

“Maybe I’d better get some rent-a-cops. Sounds like Buznardo might have made a few enemies.”

“Well,” the old man says, reaching for his brandy, “you can’t be responsible for a man with a half-billion dollars. People like that have to learn to insulate themselves.” He spreads his arms to indicate his own comfy fortress. “Come on up on Sunday. Green Bay’s playing the 49ers.”

“I’ll try to make it, sir, thanks.”

“We can have a pizza.”

“Sounds good,” I say, heading for the door. “Good night, sir.”

Raquel, I think it’s Raquel, is running his bath now.