glad to hear of it. I had begun to think I might not live long enough to see my money.'
'Yes, the check.' She was mesmerized by his face and the tube, staring like a little kid who didn't know any better. 'Of course. I'm afraid…it's not good news. You see, Michael Abramowitz's death has only complicated things.'
Mr. Macauley flushed, but it was an anemic, blue-tinted rush of blood to his face, so he looked more as if he were choking. In his disappointment he couldn't form any words at all, only a faint hiss.
'Abner! Abner!' Mrs. Macauley cried, looking up from the television, and Tess remembered how Donna Collington and the judge had laughed over her cries in the courtroom. 'Control your breaths! Remember, the doctor says you have to control your breaths.'
He waved his hand in front of his face, miming he was fine. It was several seconds before he spoke again.
'I don't understand. I read in the paper how some of the others, the ones in the consolidated trial, got their settlements, and they came
'It's a different case. The consolidated trial isn't being appealed, I guess. Truthfully it's all a little over my head. I'm basically an…errand girl for the firm.'
'We won two years ago. At first I said, I just want my check before I have to use an inhaler between sentences.' He paused for a breath. 'And then I said, well, as long as I get it before I have to cart my oxygen tank, that's OK, too. We could go somewhere, I thought, take a little trip. Now-' He paused, waiting for his breath to replenish itself. 'Now all I can say is maybe before I'm bedridden. Maybe before I die.'
'It's a bum deal,' Tess blurted out. 'I'm sorry.'
'What's $850,000 anyway? Money that big isn't even real. We don't have any children. The lawyer takes his cut, and it's $600,000. It's so much money, more than we ever had, and it doesn't mean nothing. Just a number someone put on me.' He paused for breath again. 'They plugged it into a formula, you know. It's nice to be worth $850,000, on paper. But until I see the check, I won't believe it. They think they can keep from paying me, you see, because they think I'm not important.'
'Is that why you went to the office with the Louisville Slugger? Because you saw other asbestos victims were getting their checks?'
He smiled shyly, proud of himself. 'The newspaper got that wrong. It got a lot wrong. For one thing it was an Adirondack, a black bat. I got it right here.' Sure enough, there was a black bat leaning against his recliner. 'And the other thing the newspaper didn't get was the part about my gun.'
'You had a gun?'
'Sure did. Nice little Colt,.38 caliber. Kept it for protection. I put that gun in my pocket and made Vonnie drive me downtown-she hemmed and hawed, but she finally did it-and I told that punk security guard to let me up without announcing me.'
'And he did it?'
'After I gave him twenty dollars, he did.'
'Blond kid? Lots of wrist watches?'
'Yep.' Interesting detail about Joey-it didn't cost so much for him to forget he ever met Miltie and his Minutemen. She'd have to remember to tell Tyner.
'So I went up. I had never seen this Abramowitz-he wasn't with the firm during my trial. Even after they hired him and put him in charge of the asbestos cases, I could never get him on the phone. I just got some youngster.'
'Ava Hill?'
'No, Larry Chambers, same guy who handled the case in court. Smooth. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.'
'So you go upstairs,' she prompted, trying to get him back on track.
'So I go upstairs. The lawyer, he's sitting at his big desk, looking out the window at the water. No work in front of him, nothing going on. Just staring out the window, hands folded, like a kid waiting to be dismissed from school. I pointed my gun at him, told him someone should kill him for what he had done.'
'Was he scared?'
'No. He smiled, I mean really smiled, like I was his buddy. Then he said: ‘How right you are.' A real smart ass, which pissed me off. So I went for him. But I couldn't catch my breath, and he-well, he kinda hugged me, held on to me like a little boy. Then he took my gun away and called the police.'
'So he just made up everything else-the Louisville Slugger, you running around the desk?'
'And he kept my gun. He said it was for my own good, it being illegal to carry a revolver, even if it was registered. Which was true-I'd have been in a lot more trouble if they'd known about that. Him dropping the charges wouldn't have made any differences.'
'I didn't have the impression Michael Abramowitz was someone who did things to be nice.'
'Maybe he wanted my gun for a reason. Maybe he knew that young fella was coming for him.'
Tess didn't bother to defend Rock to Mr. Macauley. He thought she worked for the Triple O. It might have been unseemly if she made excuses for the man accused of killing her putative boss.
But she was tantalized by the thought of that gun. Did Abramowitz fear someone else? Did he suspect it was only a matter of time before that person came for him? If he had hidden it well, the gun might still be there, and its existence could be used to prove Abramowitz had felt threatened long before Rock could be considered a suspect.
'So when do you think I'll get my check, young lady?' Mr. Macauley asked. His wife looked up hopefully.
Tess weighed her options. She could lie, tell them what they wanted to hear, only to have them weather another disappointment eventually. She could come clean and admit she had nothing to do with the check. Or she could choose a middle path-telling them it was unlikely while not confessing her own masquerade.
'Soon,' she said emphatically. 'I have a good feeling about it.' And she got up to leave, hoping she had given them just one afternoon in which they didn't need to think about $850,000 and the days clicking by faster than the tenth-of-a-mile marks on a taxi meter. If Mr. Macauley had a year to live, each day was worth at least $1,700, she calculated, even after attorney's fees. It was the most expensive gift she had ever given someone.
Mrs. Macauley walked her to the door.
'Miss?'
'Monaghan. Tess Monaghan.'
'If they find Abner's gun, will they send it back to us?'
'They might.'
'Maybe that's not such a good idea.'
'Why not?'
'Because, hon, if we still had that gun, I'd probably use it on Abner one night, then do myself and the dogs. Abner wants the money because he needs proof he won. It's a trophy to him. But they can't pay me enough to sit here and watch my husband die.'
Chapter 20
By the time Tess returned to Women and Children First, she knew she had to find out if Abner Macauley's gun was still in Abramowitz's office. It wasn't much, but it could give Tyner something else to play with. They needed every toy they could find at this point.
She waited until 4:55 to call the Triple O. Seamon P. O'Neal was true to his word: The request to visit Abramowitz's office was rejected-through an intermediary, of course. Fine. Tess considered the refusal an invitation to get what she wanted by any means, fair or foul. Not that she had told them why she wanted to look around. It had been risky to call at all: O'Neal might order a sweep of the office and dispose of anything out of the ordinary. That's why she had called just before 5 P.M. on a Friday. It gave her the entire weekend. To do what, however?
Kitty refused to brainstorm with her. 'It gets complicated,' she said, 'dating a cop.' But Crow was all too willing a coconspirator.
