“Can you talk?”
“Yeah. I’m at a family barbeque. Get me out of here.”
I asked him, “Do you have a drink in your hand?”
“Does the Pope eat kielbasa? What’s up?”
“You wanted to know what this was about. Right?”
“Right.”
“It’s a big, hungry, fire-breathing dragon, and it can eat you.”
There was a short silence on the phone, then he said, “Shoot.”
“Okay. It’s about TWA 800, which you know, and it’s about a videotape of the crash. And it’s about Jill Winslow, the lady you found for me.” I gave him a full, fifteen-minute briefing. He stayed uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, and I had to ask him a few times if he was still there.
After I finished, he said, “Jesus Christ Almighty. Jesus Christ.” Then he asked, “Are you shitting me?”
“No.”
“Holy shit.”
“You want in?”
I could hear loud people in the background now, and loud music, so he must have been moving his location. I waited, then it got quiet, and he said, “I’m in the toilet now. Shit, I need another drink.”
“Flush first. Dom, I need your help.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Anything. What do you need?”
“I need you with a patrol car and at least two uniformed officers to go with me to pick up Kate at the airport tomorrow.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Someone may be waiting there for her.”
“Who?”
“The Feds. Okay, so pick me up here at the Plaza-”
“Hold on. If someone may be waiting for her, then they’re definitely waiting for you, too, sport.”
“I know, but I’ve got to be there when she-”
“No, you don’t. You stay where you are. You’ve got a witness to protect.”
“You can send someone here to protect-”
“Hey, paisano, be brave and stupid on your own time. We’ll do this my way.”
I thought about that. Being a man of action, I didn’t like the idea of waiting around while someone else did the dangerous stuff for me. Dom was right, of course, but I said, “I’m not going to sit here while you go to JFK-”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you if I need you. End of discussion. What else?”
“All right… well, be prepared for some Federal bullying and bullshit. You’ve got to show some force. Okay? I don’t care if the whole fucking New York FBI field office shows up. You’re a New York cop, and this is
“Yeah. No problem.”
“Make sure you’re not followed from the airport-”
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
“And when you get to the Plaza, have a cop escort Kate to the Winslow suite.” I gave him the suite number and asked, “Are you okay with this?”
“Yeah… this is a fucking mind-blower.”
“Okay, here’s Kate’s flight info.” I gave it to him and made him repeat it, then asked him, “Are you happy now that I confided in you?”
“Oh, yeah. Fucking thrilled.”
“You asked.”
“Yeah, thanks for sharing.” He stayed silent a moment, then said, “Well, hey, congratulations. I always said you were a genius, even when Lieutenant Wolfe said you were an idiot.”
“Thank you. Anything else you need to know?”
“Yeah… like, who exactly is after you?”
“Well, this CIA guy Ted Nash for sure. Maybe Liam Griffith from the FBI. I have no idea who else is involved in this cover-up, so I don’t know who I can go to inside my office, or outside my office. So, I called the cops.”
He didn’t speak for a few seconds, then said, “And Kate… you can trust her. Right?”
“I can, Dom. She put me on to this.”
“Okay. Just checking.”
I didn’t reply.
He said, “Meanwhile, do you need any backup at the Plaza?”
“I’m okay here for a day or so. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. If these guys come to get you, put a few caps in their ass, then call Detective Fanelli at Homicide. I’ll send a meat wagon to take them to the morgue.”
I said, “Sounds like a plan, but my piece is in a diplomatic pouch somewhere.”
“What? You’re not armed?”
“No, but-”
“I’m going to your apartment to get your off-duty piece and bring it-”
“Do
“The Feds can’t follow their own shadows with the sun behind them.”
“Right. But we’re not going to risk you going to my apartment today. You have a job to do tomorrow.”
“I’ll bring you my off-duty piece.”
“Dom, just stay away from the Plaza today. I’m okay.”
“Okay, your call.” He asked, “Hey, do you want me to have you taken into protective custody?”
I’d thought about that, but I didn’t think Jill Winslow wanted to spend the night in the slammer. More important, I could picture the Feds getting on to this if they were checking with the NYPD to see if I was in fact in protective custody. I had no doubt they could get me and Jill sprung into their custody within a few hours.
“John? Hello?”
I said, “I don’t want to start leaving a public records trail. Maybe tomorrow. For now, I’m missing in action. I’ll call you if I think I need to be arrested.”
“Okay. I guess the Plaza is more comfortable than the Metropolitan Detention Center. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Dom. I’ll protect you if the shit hits the fan.”
“Hey, if the shit hits the fan just right, we’re not the ones who’re going to be standing in front of it.”
“I hope you’re right. Enjoy your barbeque. Ciao.”
Jill had left me a note on the living room desk. “Left at 12:15P.M. -Be back about 5P.M. May I take you to dinner? Jill.”
I shaved, brushed my teeth twice, showered, and rinsed out my boxer shorts.
The hotel delivered the envelope with the safe receipt and I committed the receipt number to memory and burned it in the toilet.
I read the Sunday
At 5:48, she called the suite and said, “Sorry. I lost track of time. I’ll be back about six-thirty.”
“I’ll be here.”
She arrived closer to seven. What is it with women and time? I was about to say something about the importance of time, but then she handed me a Barneys bag and said, “Open it.”
I opened the bag and took out a man’s shirt. Considering my three-day-old shirt, I think this was more a gift for her than for me. But ever gracious, I said, “Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.”
She smiled and said, “I knew you’ve been traveling in that shirt, and it
