Fishbein turned to Larry. “Captain McDonald, could you ask the court officer to please step in here and keep an eye on the prisoner? And why don’t you gentlemen go grab a cup of coffee. This should take about fifteen minutes.”
We took the hint. As soon as the court officer stepped inside the conference room, we retreated to the elevators. While we waited, Larry put out his right hand. Reflexively, I grabbed it with my right.
“You did it, Moe,” he said. “You fucking did it. Maybe they should’ve given you that gold shield when you found that little girl. What was her name again?”
“Marina Conseco.”
“Right. I gotta admit, it killed me to give you those damned files, but you pulled it off. Congratulations.”
“Let’s give it fifteen minutes and see, but thanks.”
Before we could get on the elevator, Fishbein stuck his head out his office door. “Gentlemen, if you please, the conference room.”
It had been a quick negotiation. Reyes had done the best she could for her client, something about a sentencing recommendation that would allow, if the judge agreed, a few of Alfonseca’s sentences to run concurrently as opposed to consecutively. As hollow victories went, this ranked in the top five. Instead of getting out a week or two before the sun went dark, Alfonseca might get out of Attica in time to enjoy a scenic vacation on a star cruiser to Alpha Centauri. Basically, he was going to die in prison.
“Mr. Prager” — Fishbein addressed me directly for the first time, waving several folded sheets of paper at me-“Ms. Reyes has informed me that this is a full confession as dictated by her client, Mr. Alfonseca, this morning at Rikers. It is alleged to detail the abduction, assault, and homicide of one Moira Heaton by Mr. Alfonseca. He will not sign it, however, unless he can describe to you the contents of these pages. I cannot by law compel you to-”
“Let’s get it over with.”
For the next half hour I had to sit and listen to Marissa Reyes recite in English the intimate details of Moira Heaton’s last hours on earth. As I did so, Ivan Alfonseca never removed his gaze from my eyes, nor did his cold expression much change. Only when he described actions which refuted the fabrications in the planted news stories did he smile that smile. He was a man who thrived on the distress and discomfort of others.
“Get this piece of shit out of here,” Fishbein ordered after Alfonseca had signed the confession, initialing each page and any minor changes.
Reyes looked sick, but no more so than the rest of us felt. As they began to lead Ivan away, he pushed toward me. “Man to man,” he said. “Man to man. No tricks.”
I ignored him because I was distracted. Something was wrong. A detail was missing, a very important detail that everyone in the room seemed to have forgotten.
“He kept souvenirs from all his victims, right?” I reminded Fishbein. “That’s why the cases against him are such slam dunks. Well, where’s the souvenir from this crime?”
The DA looked as if my breath stank of raw sewage. How dare I throw a monkey wrench into his plans for higher office? Reyes had already translated my questions to her client. Ivan laughed, bowing to me as if to say thanks for the reminder. He responded quickly, giving what sounded like a street address to his lawyer.
“He says her jewelry is hidden in a bandanna behind the boiler of the building he was living in when you arrested him.”
“Anything else, Mr. Prager?” the DA asked.
The court officer didn’t need to be told twice, and Ivan the Terrible was gone. Reyes, still a little shaken, left shortly thereafter. Fishbein was on the phone to one of his investigators, giving the person on the other end of the line the alleged location of Moira’s jewelry. When I started to head out, Larry shook his head no. We were to stay until the DA was done with us.
“So, Mr. Prager, Captain McDonald tells me you’re the one who worked this little scam,” Fishbein said as he put down the phone.
“I had help.”
“So I hear.” The DA frowned at Larry. “So I hear. And if we find the jewelry where that miscreant has indicated, this will be a very good day for all of us. Captain McDonald also tells me you’re Francis Maloney’s son-in- law.”
“I have that dubious pleasure, yes.”
“With all due respect, how is that nasty old prick?”
“The same, only more so.”
Fishbein understood completely. He then turned his attention to Larry, speaking in vaguely threatening generalities. A police officer, especially one in the Intelligence Division, could get in a lot of trouble for sharing files and information with unauthorized civilians. At worst, he might lose his job and pension or do time. Even the sweetest prosecutor in town would have to ensure that such an officer would have no possibility of future advancement. On the other hand, such an officer might find it very helpful to his career to have a borough district attorney as a booster and ally. I interrupted Fishbein’s rambling.
“Can I use your phone?”
The DA eyed me suspiciously. “It might be unwise to prematurely-”
“An up-and-coming prosecutor would be smart to stay and listen to my conversation,” I said, parroting Fishbein’s tone.
“Dial nine for an outside line.”
Thomas Geary answered the phone. He had regained his composure from this morning and managed not to chew my head off before asking the purpose of my call.
“I’m sitting in a conference room adjoining the office of Robert Fishbein, the district attorney for Queens County.”
Geary was unenthusiastic. “I’m well acquainted with Groucho Marx’s stunt double, Mr. Fishbein.”
“I believe he has some news for you,” I said, and handed the DA the phone.
When I did, Larry McDonald gave me the thumbs-up.
“Yes, Thomas,” Fishbein said, all the threat gone from his voice, “it’s good to speak to you again as well.”
For the next several minutes, Larry and I were treated to a somewhat skewed, if not completely inaccurate, description of the day’s events. Though the DA was quick to highlight, even exaggerate, his role, he was savvy enough not to go too far over the top. After all, he had no way of knowing how much Geary or Brightman knew. Having concluded his chat with my employer and looking rather too pleased with himself, Fishbein handed the phone back to me.
“You did well, Moe,” Geary complimented, sounding justifiably somber. “Though I am, for obvious reasons, relieved and happy at the results you have produced, I am at the same time sad for Miss Heaton’s family.”
“Watch it, Mr. Geary, you wouldn’t want me to get the impression you actually have a heart.”
“We can’t have that, can we? I must confess to having had my doubts about you, but I could not be more pleased. You and the men who helped you will be well rewarded for their efforts. I would ask only that you not share this information with anyone until I’ve had an opportunity to-”
“I understand, but there are a few people who deserve to know. They’ll keep it quiet if I ask them.”
“To this point, your judgment has proved correct. I see no reason to distrust it now. On behalf of Steven and myself, please convey my appreciation. And, Moe, please ask them to make themselves available for the next several days. There’s likely to be a lot of publicity connected to the resolution of-”
“I understand.”
“I thought you might. Thank you again.”
Larry and I waited with the DA until the call came in from the field. Though the detectives on the other end of the line could not be sure the jewelry they found was Moira Heaton’s, it was, as Ivan had said, wrapped in a bandanna and hidden behind the old boiler. I half expected Fishbein to break into song or tap-dance on the conference table. I asked Larry to make the calls to the others.
“Where
“To tell a man his daughter’s really dead.”
Glitters was doing brisk business when I walked in. Rocky was working the door. I guess maybe Adonis was
