'I was invited.'
'By whom?'
'Corrine McConkey. She phoned me Sunday morning and told me that her grandfather-Dad Lenihan, she called him-wanted me to be present. She said it would mean a lot to him, and I respectfully went along. She did not elaborate.'
'This is just terribly, terribly interesting. So you went, and then Pug called you over. Do you two know each other?'
'I had never set eyes on the man. It was all very strange and discombobulating for me. I have to tell you, Mr. Strachey, that I was just a little bit frightened. Pug Lenihan is not a powerful man anymore, but I presume that he remains influential in some circles. Additionally, it entered my mind that somehow he'd gotten wind of my conversations with his late grandson and about Jack's project.'
'Right. That could make you jittery. So he called you over.'
'He beckoned for me to bend down-no mean feat for a man with a herniated-disk operation behind him-and I painfully obliged. He said-Pug Lenihan said to me- 'You're in on this, aren't you, Kempelman?' I said, 'In on what, Mr. Lenihan?' 'Oh, don't you bullshit me!' this doddering ninety-six-year-old croaked in my ear. 'I know you'd be the one,' he said. 'Now I don't know this Strachey from a peck of potatoes, but you tell him I want to talk to him. You hear what I'm saying to you?' I stood there for a few seconds looking at the hardest, iciest set of blue eyes I'd ever seen in my life, and then do you know what I said?'
'You said, 'Yes, sir.''
''Yes, sir.' You got it, kid. I said, 'Mr. Lenihan, yes, sir.''
'So he told you he wants to talk to me. Well, hell. Did he say what about?'
'Nope. He said he heard you were out of town, and when you got back to give Corrine a call and she would take you over to his house. So. I have now carried out my instructions. Sim the message-delivery boy.'
'Or Sim the something-else-less-innocent.' I glanced around at the other drinkers and diners but saw no familiar faces. 'I just hope I'm not being set up for-what?'
'No.' He got his hurt Saint Bernard look on again. 'Not by me, at any rate.
But I do advise that you take care. Avoid irrational outbursts.'
Again I considered bolting with the two and a half million and picking up a pleasant small island somewhere. Then the almost-obvious hit me, and I said to Kempelman, 'If Pug Lenihan knows about Jack's project, then maybe the machine knows. Pug surely is in touch from time to time with his political progeny.'
Kempelman didn't move, except to elevate grandly two eyebrows the size of field mice.
I said, 'Naturally they will not want the project carried out. They will want it stopped.'
'Yes, that would be my guess too. Definitely they would.'
'Is that why you suddenly have cold feet, Sim? Is that it?'
Wearily shaking his head, he said, 'No, I explained plainly the reasons for my 'cold feet,' as you choose to term it. But don't let's get into that again.
Stevenson, Richard
Stevenson, Richard — [Donald Strachey Mystery 03] — Ice Blues
Fisticuffs might be the end result this time, and that could have serious repercussions for my spinal column.'
I said, 'Oh, hell.'
'You're looking a little sickly, kid. It's those rich soups. Stay away from soups that go sour on your intestinal wall.'
'Maybe the machine has known all along,' I said. 'Maybe Larry Dooley tipped them off right at the beginning, as soon as poor naive Jack contacted Dooley with his proposal. Maybe it was some of them who got Jack killed. They figured out that Jack had the doper's boodle, tipped the convicted dealers down at Sing Sing, who arranged for friends on the outside to recover the two and a half million and do away with Jack. That way the machine, using a chain of non-criminal and criminal intermediaries, could eliminate a threat and still hide behind a wall of deniability. They'd get the result they wanted, but they could rest certain that the means to that end would never reach back to them.'
Kempelman screwed up his face. After a moment of pained thought, he said, 'I don't think so. They would never go that far. They are crude, but they are not evil. No-no, they would never go that far. Listen, kid, they don't have to.'
But he sat there awhile longer silently mulling over the possibility, as did I.
SEVENTEEN
I phoned Timmy, holed up at the Hilton, and said, 'Did you go to work today?'
'Yeah, I was pretty worn out, but I managed a couple of reasonably productive hours.'
'Could you have been followed back to the hotel?' A silence. 'What are you saying?'
'Maybe you should make a discreet move. Is the money safe?'
'The bags are in the closet.'
'Have you gone out since you got back there from work?'
'No, I just came in a couple of minutes ago. I worked late, then ate at the Larkin with Moe Dietz. Spit it out, Don. What are you trying to tell me? Is Mack Fay on to us?'
I described the meeting with Sim Kempelman. I could hear Timmy swallowing repeatedly as I spoke. I said, 'If you still have the rope from the porch-wrecking episode, I suggest you rappel down the side of the Hilton with the five suitcases attached to your belt and meet me in East Timor later in the week.' He said nothing. 'Timmy?'
'I've got the door locked and I am not leaving this room until you get over here and explain to me how you're going to get both of us out of this endless chamber of horrors. Do you hear what I'm saying to you?'
'I thought all the early Peace Corps groups learned rap-peling at a remote camp in the mountains of western Puerto Rico, and now that you finally have some use for this arcane skill, you're going to crap out. I just hope Sargent Shriver never hears about this. But have it your way. I'll be over there in another hour or two. First I want to drop in on Corrine McConkey.
When I get to the hotel I'll call you from the lobby to let you know it's me coming up. Just hang on, okay?'
'I'd rather you came now.'
'I can't.'
'You won't.'
'Look, it's seven-thirty. Ill be there by nine-thirty.'
'Eight-thirty.'
'Nine. Nine sharp.'
'If you're not here at exactly nine o'clock, I'm taking the bloody two and a half million out of the suitcases, tossing it out into the corridor, and locking the door again. Do you understand that?'
'Before you do, pocket three grand for my fee and expenses, and another three thousand for our trip to Martinique next week. We've gotta come out of this with something.'
'One minute you're a messiah and the next minute you're a petty thief. I think you're losing your grip. You used to be so rational. Well, no, not exactly rational. I didn't mean that.'
'Thank you.'
'Just be here at nine.'
'Or close to it.'
Dreadful Ed answered the door. 'Conine's laying down. I can give her the message.'
'No, it's she who has the message for me. I'm sorry to bother her, but this won't take long. Her grandfather Lenihan asked that she arrange a visit for me with him.'
McConkey frowned. 'You go over to Dad Lenihan's? What's he want with you?'
'That's right. What's he want with me?'
