I told Dom, 'Special courier delivery for Assemblyman Kenyon Louderbush.'
'Sure, I know where he lives. Everybody knows Kenyon.
Good man. Make a good governor. No bullshit.'
I got out the envelope on which I had written Special Delivery to Kenyon Louderbush-from Don Strachey- Private and Confidential. I walked up the front steps to the handsome old Louderbush house on Church Street and shoved it through the mail slot in the big oak front door.
Before I climbed back into Walt's little plane, I phoned Timmy. 'Can you find out discreetly if Louderbush suddenly bolts out of his office later this afternoon and hightails it out to Kurtzburg?'
'Sure, I'll let you know.'
Then I swooped back to Albany, checked out of the Comfort Inn, drove to our house on Crow Street, and waited for Sam Krupa to call.
Chapter Twenty-nine
'It looks like we need to talk,' Krupa said. He spoke in a low rumble bordering on a croak that sounded about right for a man of his age-mid-eighties, I guessed.
'You bet.'
'Can you get into the city?'
'Sure. What about the Serbians?'
'I'm not sure what you mean.'
'Look, if this call is being recorded by either of us, neither of us is going to be able to make any use of it. We're at that stage, I think.'
'The Serbians have been taken care of. They'll leave you alone. You know, you really didn't have to burn down their night club.'
'I'm not sure what you mean.'
'Now they're mad at me.'
'Swell.'
'I live on Sutton Place. Do you know the small park at the end of East Fifty-seventh overlooking the river?'
'I can find it.'
'Tomorrow morning at eleven?'
'That works. And we'll both show up alone?'
'Oh sure.'
I didn't give him my new cell number-I didn't want Todd monitoring my calls-but I gave him my e-mail address and said I'd check my Blackberry for any updates from him. Krupa recited his e-mail address, though of course I already had it 244
Red White and Black and Blue by Richard Stevenson at this point, everybody knew everything about everybody else.
At my request, Trey Bigelow had given me the Albany Med receipt from his last visit there. He'd also shown me the state employee's insurance card Louderbush had arranged for him to use, and I had made a note of the policy number. I called the Times Union, hit zero, and was put through to Vicki Jablonski, the investigative reporter I'd been told was the smartest and most aggressive in town.
'Don Strachey. I'm a private investigator. Rhonda Saltzman suggested I call. I've got a good story for you.'
'Okay.'
'I've got the goods on Kenyon Louderbush. The guy's not fit to hold public office.'
'Uh-huh.'
'Do you want to hear what he's guilty of?'
'Sure.'
'Insurance fraud.'
'All righty.'
'Here's the thing. Louderbush arranged for an acquaintance with no health insurance to get onto his state employee family plan. This acquaintance is supposedly Louderbush's quote-unquote adopted child. But it's not true.'
'It sounds as if you're saying Assemblyman Louderbush might be more of a humanitarian than some people give him credit for.'
'Au contraire.'
'Okay, au contraire.'
'I'm not going to get into motives. You can if you want to.
I'm just sticking to the facts.'
'What's your evidence, Don?'
'Could I fax you a couple of things?'
'Sure.' She gave me the number.
'They'll arrive in two minutes.'
'Let me just ask you something. Are you by any chance associated with the McCloskey campaign?'
'You bet. But that in no way alters the facts of the situation.'
'Uh-huh. Send me what you've got, and maybe we'll go from there.'
'What I can also tell you, Ms. Jablonski, is that there's a lot more to this story. It's going to finish off Louderbush's gubernatorial candidacy. Just follow the insurance card.'
'What are you, some kind of Deep Throat wannabe?
Exactly what are you trying to tell me, Don?'
'Just follow the health insurance.'
I gave her my new cell number, rang off and faxed her Bigelow's receipt and the number of his insurance policy.
Hospital records were confidential, but I assumed Jablonski had her sources, just as I did.
Timmy called at ten till four and said, 'I called Louderbush's office and asked if he was available for a short budget committee meeting later today. I was told no, he'd been called back to Kurtzburg on some family matter, and he wouldn't be back in Albany until sometime tomorrow.'
'Good. I'm headed back out there, then to the city. I'll be in the car a lot, but that's okay. I'll listen to some Mendelssohn and some Monk. It'll be good for my ear and for my soul to think about anything besides this disgusting case for several hours.'
'Do you want me to come along? I'll be out of the office in an hour.'
'No, I won't be back till tomorrow afternoon, so you might as well hold down the legislative fort and do everything you can to keep the state budget from getting passed for another day.'
'I'll do my level best.'
'But it's safe to go back to the house now. The Serbians are off the case. I talked to Sam Krupa.'
'You actually talked with him? Was it like talking to Richard Nixon himself?'
'Krupa is less verbose than Nixon and, so far, less obscene. But we'll see how long that lasts. I'm meeting him tomorrow in New York, and he's not going to be happy with my proposal.'
Timmy went back to work, and before I climbed into the rental car again, I phoned my friend at APD. I told him it would be a good idea to get out the files on the Greg Stiver suicide, because I thought the department would soon be reopening the case.
'Where's your wife?' I asked Louderbush. 'She might want to be recording this.'
'My wife is at Pizza Hut with my daughter Heather's soccer team following their game, which is where I should be and 247
Red White and Black and Blue by Richard Stevenson where I would certainly prefer to be. I'll be talking things
