“Right.”
“Why?”
“I could go to the trouble of running them down myself if you want.”
He ran it through his mind, knew it could be done and nodded. “The Greek’s in a rooming house on the West Side.” He scratched an address on the same paper I had given him and shoved it back. “Markham checked into the Ormih Hotel. They left at different times and each one took two different cabs getting to his pad. It didn’t work.”
“They weren’t charged with anything, were they?”
“You don’t book a guy for getting beaten up. They even paid the hospital bill.”
I pushed the chair back and stood up. “If you managed to snag prints from those two while they were unconscious, tell the boys in Washington to process them through some of the European departments.”
“I’ll do that.”
“You still covering that pair?”
“The message went to the right ears.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
Tobano’s face was thoughtful. “Why did they skip out of the hospital?”
“Maybe they were afraid of me,” I said.
Fifty years ago one of the steamship tycoons had willed his midtown East Side mansion to a young legal fraternity. What had at one time been a handy dormitory for impoverished legal beagles now was one of New York’s most exclusive private clubs occupied only by the mighty of the profession who constructed or destroyed empires.
I sat across a black walnut table from Leyland Hunter nursing my drink, picking out the faces I knew, aware of the acoustical quality of the room that totally muffled all but the loudest voices into a soft hum. “You live well,” I said.
Hunter gave me a little smile and shrugged. “Protective coloration. Besides, it intimidates the more reluctant clients. Care to order?”
I nodded and he touched the button that brought the waiter, ordered for both of us and picked up his drink. I said, “I hope the cops didn’t ruffle you any, Counselor.”
“They didn’t. Although I must say it’s been some time since I’ve had communication with them.”
“Want to know what happened?”
“Not particularly. You haven’t asked for advice yet. Do you intend to?”
“Nope.”
“Very well then. What else is on your mind?”
“The Mondo Beach property set?”
He sipped his drink gently, savoring the taste. “Completely. I expedited the deal and as you supposed, your cousins assumed the money came from the long lost relative. I suspect they intend renewing the friendship before long.”
I grinned at him and flipped a cigarette out of my pack. “They’re really hurting for cash then. I figured they would.” I lit the butt and blew the match out. “I don’t think that old boy would buy in anyway.”
His nod was a solemn one. “I rather doubt it. He died ten years ago. Out of curiosity I made some inquiries and only by sheer luck managed to find out about it. He was gold rich, all right, but blew it all on uranium exploration during the boom and went totally broke. He died in a mine cave-in trying for another lucky strike.”
“I guess he had his fun.”
“Probably, but what joyful pleasures are you contemplating?”
I took the check out of my pocket with the note of details stapled to the corner and handed it to him. “Buy me a house, Counselor. Then get a crew in to repair everything as it was in its original condition.”
He studied the note and the check, then looked over the rim of his glasses at me. “This isn’t to be in your name?”
“You see what I want.”
“Aren’t you a little too old to be playing games like this?”
“It isn’t a game, friend.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Sure. I never had a house. I like somebody else to enjoy the pleasure. Any complications?”
“No. I suppose I am to expedite this too?”
“From the size of that check,” I told him, “it’s pretty obvious.”
“Dogeron Kelly,” he laughed, “you are a pisser.”
“Terrible language from one of your stature.”
“Balls,” he said. “Now, is that all?”
“No.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Just a question now. Why haven’t Dennie and Al married?”
Hunter looked at me several seconds then finished his drink. “I was wondering when you were going to ask that.” The waiter came, put down our plates, and when he had left Hunter tasted his food, approved and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Several matches were arranged for both of them shortly after the war. I assume you remember how the family handled such things.”
“How could I forget?”
“Unfortunately, your female cousins made a botch of things with their errant behavior. Although the Barrins are mere upstarts, those doing the arranging were quite chagrined about the whole episode and let the matter drop right there.”
“That all?”
“Not quite. I have to go on hearsay now, but both Dennison and Alfred never seemed to pursue marriage as a career. Both preferred their position of heading the Barrin estate. At one time Dennie showed an interest in the Have-lock widow, but she married into an old chain-store family with all her wealth. Cousin Alfred squired several unattached, and, I might add, unlovely daughters of riches here and there, but nothing seemed to take. Those people with all their war profits didn’t buy Alfred’s type at all. I think they knew what he was after.”
“But nothing now?”
“Neither is of choice marriageable age at the moment, Dog. Financially, they aren’t the best risks, either.” His eyes had a strange glint to them. “I went over the books last week when we were in Linton. Your cousins have accepted several large and important contracts. On paper, everything looks quite sound, but the reports from the plant managers are pretty disturbing.” He paused a second and let it sink in. “Barrin isn’t going to be able to handle them unless they retool and they haven’t got the money for that.”
“Come on, Counselor, they can’t be that stupid.”
“Then the answer is obvious, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “They’re figuring on some sort of financing. But how?”
“That, my friend, is up their sleeve.”
“Any estimates on the retooling job?”
“Roughly several million.”
“How rough?”
“About fifteen million.”
“That’s pretty damn rough,” I said. “They’re not look ing to start the job and then plead for an extension, are they?”
“Not with these contracts. No, they’re hoping for something.”
“Grand Sita up for sale?”
“Oh, they’d sell, but there are no buyers. Maybe in two years the picture will change, but they couldn’t wait that long. Those contracts will go into effect next month. They’ve already invested the Mondo Beach money in factory renovations, so they are definitely going ahead.”
“This ought to be good,” I told him.
“It’s going to be better. I’ve heard a rumor.”
