“I drove his sedan home.” Benny’s scarred, rough features began to turn a dull red.
“Don’t you have a car? Surely you must get paid enough to have your own wheels.”
“I can answer that,” Nick interrupted, before Benny could speak. “Last year when Benny told me he was trading his car in, I told him it was stupid for him to be paying insurance and upkeep on a car when I was paying to house three vehicles in a Manhattan garage, at Midtown prices no less. I suggested that he drive the SUV between his home and Manhattan and then switch to the sedan at the garage when he drove me to appointments.”
Ahearn ignored him. “So, Benny, you drove the black Mercedes SUV, which your kindly employer offered you to use as your own vehicle, to your apartment in Astoria two weeks ago tonight, the night Leesey disappeared.”
“No. Mr. DeMarco had the SUV in the garage at the loft because he was going to drive to the airport in the morning with his golf clubs. I dropped him off at the Woodshed at about ten o’clock in the sedan, then drove home to my place that night.”
“You then went into your apartment, and to bed.”
“Uh-huh. That was about eleven o’clock.”
“Benny, the parking problem is pretty lousy in your neighborhood, isn’t it?”
“Parking’s lousy everywhere in New York City.”
“But you lucked out. You got a spot for your employer’s vehicle right in front of your apartment building. Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah, that’s where I parked it. I got home and got into bed and turned on Jay Leno. He was really funny. He was talking about…”
“I don’t care what he was talking about. I care about the fact that the black Mercedes vehicle owned by Nick DeMarco wasn’t there thr whole night. Your neighbor in apartment 6D saw you pulling into a space in front of the building at about 5:15, when he was leaving for work. Tell us, Benny, where had you been? Did you get an emergency call from Mr. DeMarco? Had there been some kind of problem?”
Benny Seppini’s expression became angry and mulish. “None of your business,” he barked.
“Benny, do you have a cell phone with a prepaid card?” Ahearn demanded.
“You don’t have to answer that, Benny,” Paul Murphy shouted.
“Why not? Sure I do. I place a few bets. A hundred bucks here and there. So arrest me.”
“Didn’t you buy one of those cell phones and prepaid cards as a joke birthday present for Nick, I mean Mr. DeMarco?”
“Keep quiet, Benny!” Paul Murphy shouted.
Benny stood up. “Why should I? I’ll tell you what happened that night. I got a call around midnight from a very nice lady who is separated from a drunken bum husband. She was scared. The husband knows she and I like each other. He left a crazy message on her cell phone, threatening her. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got dressed and drove over there. Her place is about a mile away from mine. I sat outside her building in the car to make sure he didn’t show up after the bars closed. I stayed till five o’clock. Then I went home.”
“You’re a real Sir Galahad, Benny,” Ahearn said. “Who is this woman? Who’s the guy threatening her?”
“He’s a cop,” Benny said flatly. “One of New York ’s finest. She has grown kids who think he’s the world’s best guy and just has a small problem with booze. She don’t want trouble. I don’t want trouble. So I’m not going to say nothing more.”
Paul Murphy stood up. “We’ve had enough,” he told Ahearn, Barrott, and Gaylor. “I’m sure you’ll be able to confirm Benny’s story, and I know my client would do anything to help the young girl who is missing.” He threw them all a scornful look. “Why don’t you stop barking up the wrong tree, and go find the abductor of Leesey Andrews and those other young women? And why don’t you stop wasting your time trying to put round pegs in square holes while there may still be a chance to save her life?”
The three detectives watched the men depart. When the door closed behind them, Ahearn said, “That story is full of holes. Sure, Benny could have covered himself by being outside his girlfriend’s building for a while, but he still had plenty of time to respond to an emergency call from Nick and get Leesey out of that loft.”
They looked at one another in an agony of frustration, each man hearing in his head, once again, Leesey Andrews’s desperate cry for help.
59
A nd the walls came tumbling down…” Was that an old gospel folk hymn? Something about Joshua and the walls of Jericho? He wasn’t sure. The only thing that was sure was that time was running out, fast.
I really, really didn’t want to end up like this, he thought. It was forced on me. I really did try to stop after the first one. That wasn’t counting the real first one, of course, the one nobody knew about. But then I wasn’t allowed to stop.
Not fair. Not fair.
The end is coming, he thought, feeling his pulse quicken. I can’t stop it. It’s all over. I’ll be found out, but I’m not going to be arrested. I’m going to die, but I’m going to take someone new with me. What’s the best way-the most exciting way-to do it?
I’ll figure it out, he told himself.
After all, he always had.
60
M artha’s Vineyard is about three hundred miles northeast of Manhattan, and slower to warm up. On Tuesday morning when I woke up, I looked out the window at the bright cold day. Feeling physically and emotionally stronger, I got out of bed and considered what to wear when I confronted Barbara Hanover Galbraith. It was cool enough for the running suit I had thrown in my bag, but that was not necessarily the outfit I would choose for our meeting.
I didn’t want to seem either overdressed or too casual. I wanted no sense of being Mack’s little sister when I saw Barbara. She was a pediatric surgeon. I was a juris doctoris, an attorney-at-law, and had just completed a clerkship with a civil court judge. My alternative was a dark-green cashmere jacket, white fitted camisole, and white jeans I had taken from the closet at the last minute. Now I was glad that I had the option of wearing them.
Although it was nearly lunchtime, I called room service to order a continental breakfast, and drank black coffee and nibbled on a cinnamon bun while I dressed. I realized I was so nervous that my fingers were clumsy, fumbling as they unpinned the cleaner’s tags from the clothes.
I was perfectly aware that I might be on a fool’s errand. Barbara and her children might be back in Manhattan by now. But I didn’t think that would be the case. I believed that she was hiding out up here to avoid being questioned about Mack, in which case she’d have stayed put.
I was sure that if I called first she would put me off. But if I simply showed up, there was almost no civil way she could close the door in my face, since she had once been a guest for dinner at Sutton Place.
At least I hoped not.
Checking my watch, I realized I needed to get moving if I wanted to catch Barbara at home. In the car, I set the navigation system. The street where Richard Hanover lived was about six miles away. My plan was to drive to the house and ring the bell. If no one was there, I’d go into the center of town and walk around for a while, then make periodic trips back to the house until she was in.
It seemed like a good plan, but of course the day’s events didn’t unfold that way. I reached the house at about 12:30. There was no one there. I came back every hour until 5:30. By then, I had decided it was a totally wasted trip, and was as thoroughly disheartened as any human being could possibly be. Then, just as I was making a U- turn, a Jeep with New York plates passed me and turned into the driveway. I caught a glimpse of a woman at the
