The techie shrugged. “Whatever. Each camera has a microphone, too. We’ll be in the second bedroom, down the hall. There’s a lock on the door, so he won’t walk in on us by mistake. When are you guys going to start the ball rolling?”
“You may not have noticed this, Albie,” Viv said, “but we’re not guys.”
“I hope your mark notices that,” Albie said. He handed Rosie a wristwatch. “I’ve only got one of these, so you’ll have to decide who wears it.”
“What does it do?” Viv asked.
“Two things: it’s got a GPS chip, so if we should lose you in the street, we can still keep track, and if you press the stem, it’s a panic button. It sets off an alarm that flares your location on the screen and buzzes loud, in case somebody’s in the john.”
“You’re going to have two cops in there with you, so don’t all go to the john at the same time,” Rosie said.
VIV AND ROSIE sat in an unmarked car on West Forty-fourth Street and watched the entrance to the building that housed the Bright Lights, Ink, agency. It was raining. Viv’s cell rang. “DeCarlo.”
“It’s Bacchetti. I see you on West Forty-fourth on my laptop screen.”
“Shall I wave?” Viv asked.
“Just watch your ass,” Dino said. “I’m not up for wearing my uniform to your funeral.”
“Don’t worry, Lieutenant, there’ll be three guys in the second bedroom, and when one of us is in the apartment with him, the other will be outside the door with a key. What could go wrong?”
“Are you armed?”
“One of us will be. If the one in the apartment is packing, it might be a tip-off. And Albie gave us a panic button, and the one who’s doing the tailing will have the radio.”
“I’ll feel a lot better when this is over,” Dino said. “Be careful, Viv, goddammit!” He hung up.
“I think Dino cares,” Rosie said. “About you, I mean.”
“Oh, stop it.”
“He didn’t tell me to be careful.”
“That’s because he wasn’t talking to you.”
“He didn’t call me, either.”
“He couldn’t call both of us at the same time.”
“I’ve seen him watching your ass,” Rosie said. “Believe me, he wants your body.”
“Rosie, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to shoot you, I swear to God!”
“You’re not going to have time to shoot me,” Rosie said.
“What?”
“There’s our boy.”
Ed Abney came out of his office building, wearing a tan raincoat and a black hat, and hurried up West Forty-fourth, hunching his shoulders against the rain. It was a little before seven.
“He’s headed for Sardi’s, I bet,” Rosie said.
“That’s the intel we’ve got on him. He’s old-school Broadway.”
Abney turned into the restaurant, and they could see him taking off his raincoat.
“Let’s go,” Viv said. She started the car and drove slowly to within a few yards of Sardi’s’ door, then she flipped down the sun visor, which had an official-looking card attached to it, reading Physician On Call.
The two women got out of the car and hurried into Sardi’s in time to see Abney walking up the steps to the upstairs bar. They checked their coats and followed.
“You got our story straight?” Viv asked.
“We’re two girls fresh off the farm who want to be on the stage, right?”
“I don’t know why I partner with you.”
They climbed the steps, then stopped, looking around. Abney was talking with the bartender. A headwaiter appeared and told the couple sitting next to him that their table was ready.
“Lucky so far,” Rosie said. They hurried to grab the seats.
Abney was served a martini as they sat down, and he took due notice of them. “Good evening, ladies,” he said, raising his glass. “Can I get you two a drink?” He was a little over six feet, heavyset with pale red hair and a smooth, pink complexion, maybe fifty.
“Thank you, I’ll have a Tom Collins,” said Rosie, who was sitting next to him.
Abney turned to the bartender. “Eddie, is there still such a thing as a Tom Collins in the world?”
“There is,” Eddie replied, then went to work.
“And you?” he said to Viv.
“I’ll have a vodka martini, straight up,” she said.
“Eddie? You heard that?”
“I did.”
“Only one of them is from the sticks.” Abney laughed at his own joke.
“We’re both from the sticks,” Viv said. “Cleveland.”
“Ah, Cleveland,” Abney said.
“Don’t say it like that,” Rosie said. “It’s not nice.”
“No insult intended,” Abney said. “I haven’t been there for twenty years. I stage-managed a national tour of Charley ’ s Aunt, and we played a week there.”
“Oh, you’re in show business?” Viv asked.
“My dear, you’re looking at the hottest press agent in the Big Apple.”
“Wow,” Rosie said without irony. “You must know a lot of show business people.”
“I’m afraid that, in my trade, I’m not able to avoid that.” He was listening to Rosie, but he was looking at Viv. “I’m Ed,” he said.
“This is Rosie, and I’m Viv.”
“Short for Vivian?”
“You’re psychic.”
Abney laughed. “I like you,” he said.
“Then let’s switch seats,” Rosie said, hopping off her stool. Viv moved over and gave her a glare when her back was turned to Abney.
“Anybody hungry?” Abney asked.
“I’ve got a date,” Rosie said, “but Viv is free.”
“Rosie!”
“Viv, I know an excellent French restaurant over on the East Side, and my car is waiting outside.”
“What’s wrong with eating here?” Viv asked.
“The food isn’t so hot,” Abney said. “Trust me on this.”
Rosie tossed off her drink and got off her stool. “I gotta run,” she said. “You two kids have a good time.” She kissed Viv on the cheek and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you.” She stopped, took off the alarm wristwatch, and handed it to Viv. “Thanks for the loan of your watch. I’d have been late!”
Viv buckled the watch onto her wrist.
“Another martini before we go?” Abney asked.
“Not on your life. One’s my limit before dinner. It’s nice that you’ve got a car-it’s nasty out tonight.”
“Well, let’s get started with the evening,” Abney said. He signed their check, and they went downstairs and got their coats.
“Right this way,” Abney said, opening the door for her.
A black Lincoln sat idling at the curb, and a driver in a black raincoat opened the door for them.
“Antoine’s, please, Ricardo,” Abney said, resting his hand on Viv’s knee.
Her impulse was to break his wrist, but Viv sat still for it.
45
