CHAPTER 32
Mel Giacomin’s office was on a side street just off Reading Square. It was a private home that had been remodeled as an office. The secretarial pool sat out front in a big open room, and Mel and a couple of other men had private offices down the hall. Past Mel’s office was the kitchen, which had been left intact, and there were cups and a box of doughnuts and instant coffee and Cremora on the kitchen table. Mel was in there drinking coffee when I showed up.
”What the hell do you want?“ he said.
”Clever repartee,“ I said.
”What?“
”I want to talk about fire insurance,“ I said.
”I don’t want to sell you any.“
”It’s about fire insurance you’ve already sold, like to Elaine Brooks.“
Mel looked at me. He opened his mouth and closed it. ”I didn’t…“ he started. ”I…“ A woman with red hair in a frizz came into the kitchen. She wore a lime-green sweater and a pair of white pants that had been tight when she was ten pounds lighter.
”Let’s talk in your office,“ I said.
Giacomin nodded and I followed him next door. We went in. He shut the door.
”What do you want?“ he said when he got behind his desk. He was wearing a tan glen plaid three-piece suit and a blue-figured tie and a white shirt with light tan-and-blue double stripes in it. The vest gapped two inches at the waist, revealing belt buckle and shirt.
”I’ll make it short,“ I said. ”I know the arson scam. And I can prove it.“
”What are you talking about?“
I took out the copy of my arson file memo and put it on his desk.
”Read this,“ I said.
He read it over quickly. I noticed that his lips moved very slightly as he read. Then his lips stopped. He was through reading it, but he kept staring down at the paper. Finally, without looking up, he said, ”So?“
”So I got you,“ I said.
He kept staring at the paper. ”You tell the cops?“
”Not yet.“
”You tell anybody?“
”Don’t even think about that,“ I said. ”You don’t have a chance against me, and even if you did, note that you’re looking at a copy.“
”You want a piece of the action?“
I grinned, ”Now you are catching on.“
”How much?“
”It’ll vary.“
He looked up. ”What do you mean?“
”It means I want two things. I want you to stay away from your kid, and I want you to pay for his support, his schooling, whatever he needs.“
”Stay away?“
”Relinquish, leave alone, get off the back of, fill in your own phrase. I want him free of you.“
”And send him money?“
”Yes.“
”That’s all?“
”Yes.“
”Nothing for you?“
”No.“
”How much I gotta send him?“
”Tuition, room, board, expenses.“
”How much will that be?“
”We’ll let you know.“
”I mean I’m not made of money, you know?“
I stood up and leaned over the desk. ”Listen to me, Rat Shit, you’re talking like you could bargain. You can’t. You do what I say or you take a big fall. Two people died in one of those fires. Homicide in the commission of a felony is murder one“
