Loney’s phone, and very likely Loney.
“And you are willing to illegally invade a prominent judge’s records?”
“A crooked prominent judge,” Sam points out.
“You can mention that at your sentencing hearing,” I say.
“I’m not going to jail,” Sam says. “Not with you as my lawyer.”
I try to talk him out of it, but of course I’m not sure if I really want to. Hike’s idea, while risky, is a good one, and could lead us to Loney. Of course, I have no idea what the hell I would do with Loney if we found him, but suffice it to say Marcus would be involved.
“I’ve got to get off the phone,” I say to Sam. “I’m waiting for a call from a Mafia don.”
“Now that’s cool,” Sam says.
Among the more admirable qualities of ruthless crime bosses is their punctuality.
The phone rings at noon, though it is not Petrone who calls. It’s his first lieutenant, Joseph Russo, which doesn’t make me any less nervous. It’s a sign of how uncomfortable these people make me that I’d rather deal with lawyers.
“Mr. Ricci will see you in Suite 36575 of the Mandalay Bay Thursday afternoon at three P.M. ”
“Thursday is Thanksgiving Day,” I point out.
“Tell me something I give a shit about.”
“Is Ricci aware that I am under Dominic Petrone’s umbrella of protection?”
Russo laughs. “We’ll find out soon enough, huh?”
“I’m going to bring one of my investigators, Marcus Clark.”
“I don’t care who you bring.”
Click.
Nobody says good-bye anymore.
Court is closed on Wednesday because of personal business Judge De Luca has to attend to, and it’s obviously closed for the four-day Thanksgiving weekend. Which means I only have to get through two court days, stretching it so that I don’t have to start presenting the defense case this week. The way Dylan is dragging this out, that shouldn’t be a problem.
Once the call is behind me, and I can breathe normally again, Hike and I settle in to go over the witness list and make our preparations. There is nothing in it that we haven’t gone over ten times before, but total familiarity with everything is absolutely necessary, and there’s no other way to get it.
At one o’clock I turn on the Giants game as background noise, though the truth is I pay more attention to that than the case files.
Cindy Spodek calls at halftime, which is probably a coincidence, since she is not generally that considerate.
“Is your fax number still the same?” she asks. “I have a list to send you.”
“These are people that were reported missing during that period and never found?”
“Right,” she says. “Six hundred and forty-one names.”
“That many?”
“And I’m sure there are quite a few that never made it to us. I believe this is the part of the conversation where you say, “Thank you, Cindy. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“No, this is the part where I ask if you’ve ever dealt with Carmine Ricci, and you say, ‘Sure, he’s a pussycat.’”
“You’re dealing with Ricci?”
“I’m meeting with him next week,” I say.
“I’ve got a better idea. Don’t.”
“Can’t be helped, Cindy. Any tips?”
“Besides getting your affairs in order? Andy, seriously, this is not a wise idea.”
“Did I mention it can’t be helped?”
“An hour before you see him, call my number here at the bureau on your cell phone. If you feel things are getting dangerous, show him that you made the call, and tell him that we know where you are.”
“Good idea. I will,” I say. “Thank you, Cindy. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Very well put,” she says. “Now let me talk to Laurie.”
I give the phone over to Laurie, and she and Cindy chat for about an hour. Most of Laurie’s side of the conversation consists of her saying things like, “I can’t stop him. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
I call Sam and tell him that I’m going to be faxing him Cindy’s list of names of missing persons from around the time of the fire. He can add it to Pete’s list and get started.
“What am I supposed to do with it?” he asks, a perfectly logical question.
“Find out whatever you can about these people. I know you don’t have time to dig too deep into each one; the public records should be enough. I want to know if they were connected to any of the people involved in this case, any of the people you’ve already found in the phone records. Pay particular attention to the various players in the Delaware trial.”
“Got it,” he says.
“How is it going on getting the judge’s phone records?”
“Should have it very soon. And then we use it to find Loney.”
“Yes, but that part is going to have to wait until I get back from Vegas. If we’re going to deal with Loney in person, I want Marcus there.”
“Okay, whatever you say. Meanwhile we’ll get started on this list.”
“Can you get more help?”
“Don’t need it. We’re fine.”
“Sam, your staff does not consist of people we want to overwork, you know?”
“Andy, they’re amazing. I tell them to go home and take the rest of the day off, they say no. I hope I’m that energetic when I’m their age.”
“I was never that energetic at any age,” I say.
As I hoped, Dylan’s big mouth works in my favor.
He spends the next two days putting on witnesses of little consequence, and then questions them as if they were crucial to his case.
None of the witnesses present direct evidence about Noah. They either talk about the extent of Noah’s addiction, or his expertise in chemical engineering.
I question each of them, and make points which show the jurors our side is still alive and feisty. But all I’m really doing is biding time until Vegas.
We have to fly out on Wednesday, since I don’t want to risk a flight cancellation that would leave me unable to make the meeting with Ricci.
I haven’t been to Vegas in twenty years, and I have no idea where to stay. When I mention that to Marcus, he says, “Mandalay Bay.”
I’m surprised that he even knows the name of a hotel there; Marcus does not seem like the Vegas type. “Why?” I ask.
“Sushi bar.”
Marcus eats sushi; this truly is a global society. Mandalay Bay is where I’m meeting with Ricci, so staying there may not be a positive. If his goons chase me out of the room with guns blazing, I don’t want to run next door to my room.
But ultimately I make the reservation there, telling the reservations clerk that I want to be as far as possible from suite 36575, which is where the meeting is. The clerk says that it’s no problem, and at the end of the call tells me to “have a lucky day.”
I’d better.
When we are leaving for the airport, Laurie hugs me very hard and long. It feels good, but less so when I realize that she is doing it because it may be the last time. Tara licks my face when I kneel down to pet her; and I whisper to her that Laurie should be her go-to person for biscuits and stomach-scratching if I don’t come back. I pet and say good-bye to Bailey, nearly waking her in the process.
I bought first-class tickets for Marcus and me from Newark to Vegas. Marcus gets through security without
