“I don’t suppose you got anything to show me what he looks like?”
“As a matter of fact,” Justin said, and went to his desk and got Bruno the sketch that Darla had drawn. “It’s an exact likeness,” he said. “As good as a photograph.”
“So, Jay, I’m more than happy to be a nice guy sometimes, but I’m still a businessman and usually I’m compensated for this kind of work.”
“Name the price.”
“I like dealin’ with you Westwoods,” Bruno said. “There’s no bullshit.”
He told Justin the price and Justin didn’t hesitate. He just nodded and said, “Done.”
“I got a couple of questions for you,” Bruno said. “Bein’ the thorough professional that I am.”
“Go ahead.”
“You want this guy. . Grimble. . to know the. . how shall I put it. . the subtext of our conversation? I been hangin’ around the screenwriter of the movie. I like that word, ‘subtext.’”
“Do you mean, do I want him to know that the question’s coming from me?”
“That’s what I mean.”
“Absolutely,” Justin said. “That’s a prerequisite of the job.”
“Then I need to know one more thing.”
“Okay.”
“When I get the answer to your question, do you want this Grimble to be able to discuss this situation with anyone else?”
Justin hesitated for only a moment before saying, “It’s why I’m hiring an expert. I want you to do whatever you think is best.”
The big man rose off the couch now. It took him a couple of attempts to get his full bulk back on his feet. And when he was up, Justin was startled to see as large and as dangerous a man as Bruno Pecozzi wink. “Like I said, no bullshit when you’re dealin’ with the Westwoods.” Bruno stuck out his hand. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I got work to do.”
Justin took the big man’s hand. Felt the callused skin of Bruno’s palm as they shook.
As soon as Bruno was gone, Justin went upstairs to his bathroom, covered the lower half of his face in thick coils of shaving cream, and pulled out his razor. It took him about five minutes to shave his beard and leave his face completely smooth.
He rubbed his chin and then both cheeks and he looked in the mirror at his reflection.
The beard was gone, Justin thought to himself, but he still didn’t feel clean.
On the other hand, he realized, he didn’t feel too bad, either.
33
Justin picked up the phone on the fourth ring. His caller ID told him who it was. He didn’t want to talk but he knew he had to. The caller was, he believed, going to tell him whether he could finally put an end to all the madness. He was afraid she was going to say that he couldn’t. But there was only one way to find out.
“Wanda,” he said into the receiver.
She was a lot calmer than he expected.
“I’m calling to tell you something, Jay,” Wanda Chinkle said. “We’re not actually as stupid as you might think.”
“Thanks,” Justin said. “That’s very comforting.”
“It’s not meant to be. It’s meant to be a warning.”
“Is this about something in particular?”
“It’s about several things. For one, Warren Grimble has disappeared.”
“Who’s that?”
“Lieutenant Colonel Warren Grimble. Military Intelligence. His specialty is prisoner interrogation. He’s spent a lot of time in Iraq. But he’s intermittently stationed at Gitmo.”
“Huh,” Justin said. “That’s a coincidence.”
“How’d your fingerprint ID turn out?” Wanda asked.
“Not very helpful,” he said. “Kind of a wild goose chase, I guess.”
“Both sets?”
“What?”
“You told me you were running one set of prints.”
“Oh. I just figured I’d sneak in a second set. An old case I’ve been working on.”
“I’m doing you a favor now,” she said. “So listen to what I’m telling you.”
“I’m listening.”
“You can trust me.”
“I know. You’ve told me.”
“Well, it’s important that I tell you again. I want you to remember that specifically. If a time comes when you’re not sure, just remember what I said. Please.”
Justin massaged the area directly over his eyes with his right hand. “Is there some kind of secret message in all this, Wanda? What are you trying to tell me?”
“I’m trying to tell you the only thing I
“Sure,” he said. “Sure. Okay.”
She took a deep breath. “I’ve arranged the meeting we discussed.”
He exhaled a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Before I give you the details, are you sure you don’t want to tell me what this is about?”
“You’re much better off not knowing.”
“Final answer?”
“Yes, Regis. Final answer.”
“I’d also like you to remember that you said that.”
“Okay. I’ll remember that, too.” He knew he was letting his impatience show through. “Now what do I have to do?”
“He doesn’t want to see you at the Justice Department.”
“So where?”
“New York.”
“The city?”
“The Waldorf Towers. Suite 1603.”
“When?”
“Tonight. Seven o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Jay. .”
“Uh-oh. Sounds like another warning.”
“Just some advice. And I hope you take it seriously. You won’t be allowed in tonight if you’re armed. But once you leave the hotel, make sure you have a gun on you at all times.”
“Sounds like pretty sound advice,” Justin said.
“The best you’re gonna get,” Wanda Chinkle told him.
“Pretty soon, I won’t even be able to count how much I’m gonna owe you.”
“You know me, Jay. I’ll hardly ever mention it.” When there was a silence from his end, she said, “You still there?”
“Still here,” he said. “Sorry. I’m just thinking how well I know you.”
Justin was sitting in front of his new computer, staring at the screen, at the notes and lists he’d entered since he’d returned to East End Harbor.
