“About the book tour, Ms. Lawson?” I said.
“Call me Tina,” she said. “Look, you may know how to protect people, but I’ve been on plenty of book tours. There aren’t many places to hide.”
“It’s not about hiding,” I said, “it’s knowing where to look, what to look for.”
“Can you keep Lenny from getting hurt?”
AJ’s desk phone buzzed. “Excuse me,” she said. Then, after a moment’s discussion, “Maury wants to see me. Take your time. Finish up.”
After AJ left, I said, “There are no guarantees, Tina, if that’s what you mean.”
“I’m not sure what I mean,” Tina said. “I’m just scared.”
“I can reduce the odds of him being hurt. I can make it tougher on the people who try to hurt him.”
“So you’re telling me you can’t prevent him being killed if someone’s willing to die to do it.”
Tina was right, of course, but it seemed like a lousy time to confirm her worst fears.
“It’s much harder to do,” I said. “Not impossible, but harder.”
“Or if someone throws a bomb.”
“That’s not likely to happen.”
“Why not? I don’t understand.”
“Bombs do a lot of damage,” I said. “Public outrage would demand arrests, there’d be pressure on the cops, the prosecutors. Even the mob doesn’t want that much attention. They’d use one or two experienced shooters.”
“Professional killers?”
I nodded.
“Will you have any help?”
“Yes.”
Tina waited for an explanation.
“When you’re in the private eye biz,” I said, hopefully with a straight face, “you know plenty of skilled people, experienced in this kind of thing.”
That meant Henri LaCroix, of course. And I might bring someone else in if things got really dicey.
“Skilled, like … like … with guns?”
“Yes,” I said, “but trying to kill Lenny isn’t the only thing to worry about.”
Tina paused, staring at me, waiting for more.
“They might kidnap him, ransom him for the documents, something like that.”
“Shit,” Tina said, “never thought of that. Really?”
Might be better to head off this line of questions, too.
I leaned back with my hands behind my head, trying to look relaxed enough to ease her anxiety.
“Tell me about the book tour.”
“Well,” she said, her face losing some of the tension as we shifted to a familiar topic.
“Lenny Stern’s tour is pretty simple, and it’s short. Four events in three locations, wrapping up in Chicago on the official release date of the book.”
“The file Maury gave me included a tour schedule. Is that the current one?”
Tina nodded.
“Good. So where do we start?”
“Here,” Tina said, “in Petoskey.”
I smiled. “As fond as I am of Petoskey, it doesn’t seem like a very big market to get the tour rolling.”
“It isn’t, but Lenny insisted. He wants to kick it off in his hometown. Where he lives and works.”
“You’d prefer elsewhere?”
“Of course. Gloucester’s marketing division always wants to start in a medium-sized city or larger. More bang for the buck that way.”
“But not this time?”
“Gloucester wanted to sign Lenny. He insisted, they agreed.”
“Got it. I want to ask you, before I forget: you’re Lenny’s agent, but you work for Gloucester Publishing. I thought agents represented their clients to prospective publishers. What am I missing?”
Tina smiled. “Nothing, you didn’t miss a thing. Lenny doesn’t have a traditional agent. I’m more like a publicist or marketing specialist. My job is to work with Lenny, to get the word out.”
“Is that why your name appeared in the Post Dispatch story about the tour stopping in town?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so we start in small town Petoskey. Is Detroit on the list?”
“It was originally, but Lenny said no. Northern Michigan only.”
“And the Chicago wrap-up.”
“Yes,” Tina said.
“Didn’t you say three locations but four events?”
“Lenny opens just down the street, at the old Carnegie Library with an evening talk about his days as a crime reporter, the backstory on the Mafia killings. That kind of thing. Right after the talk he’ll sign copies at a table in the main room. That’s two events for us.”
“The talk open to the public?”
Tina shook her head. “Invitation only,” she said. “From a list of VIPs, the rest of the tickets will go to supporters of the library.”
“How about the book signing?”
“Open to the public. People will come and go for two hours. I suppose the signing will be tougher to patrol.”
“Anyplace the public can wander in and out is harder to cover. The Carnegie talk is mostly limited access.”
“So it’s safer?”
“It should be,” I said, “but you never know.”
Tina nodded slowly, still digesting the danger that was building around her.
“The next day, he’ll be at B. Humbug’s Bookstore in Harbor Springs for a signing. Two days later, a luncheon at the Iroquois Hotel on Mackinac Island.”
“The tour portion is over?”
Tina nodded. “Then it’s on to Chicago.”
“This all by car?”
“Yes.”
“Even Chicago?”
Tina smiled. “Gloucester’s not likely to pop for plane fare for three hundred miles.”
“You usually do the driving?”
She nodded. “It’s part of the job.”
That’s a lot of miles on the open road to worry about, a lot of opportunity for the killers to come at us. But Henri and I have dealt with that before.
“It’ll be day trips up here,” Tina said. “Although we might stay over on Mackinac. Chicago’s three nights.”
“Why three?”
“Gloucester’s throwing a couple of VIP receptions. High-profile author, high-profile …”
“Hopefully high-profile book,” I said, and smiled.
“You’re learning,” Tina said, laughing.
“Who makes the hotel reservations?”
“Gloucester has a travel staff who does that.”
“Where are you staying?” I said.
“The Perry,” Tina said, “I love the history of the place. Did you know it was slated to be a hospital a hundred years ago? Very cool. Anyway, they booked me at the Perry, I’m delighted to say.”
“How many on the staff?”
“Two.”
“Know them?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Nobody new. They’ve been around for a while. You think one of them … ?”
I shrugged. “I ask questions. Don’t know the people, don’t know the business. So I ask.”
“So everybody’s a suspect?”
I smiled. “Not everybody,” I said, “but someone’s threatening Lenny.”
“And you want to know who.”
“I want to stop them.”
4
“Sounds simple enough,” Henri said, “our job is to keep one cantankerous reporter from getting wacked.”
We sat in the outer office, by
