“Good evening, Doc,” Franco said as Raymond appeared. “Sorry to trouble you.”
“Let’s just make this short,” Raymond said, sounding more confident than he felt.
“It will be short and sweet, trust me,” Franco said. “If you don’t mind.” He pointed up the street where the Ford sedan had been pulled to the curb next to a fire hydrant. Angelo was half-sitting, half-leaning against the trunk, smoking a cigarette.
Raymond followed Franco to the car. Angelo responded by straightening up and stepping to the side.
“We just want you to take a quick look in the trunk,” Franco said. He reached the car and keyed the luggage compartment. “Come right over here so you can see. The light’s not so good.”
Raymond stepped between the Ford and the car behind it, literally inches away from the trunk’s lid as Franco raised it.
In the next second, Raymond thought his heart had stopped. The instant he glimpsed the ghoulish sight of Cindy Carlson’s dead body crammed into the trunk, there was a flash of light.
Raymond staggered back. He felt sick with the image of the obese girl’s porcelain face imprinted in his brain and dizzy from the flash of light which he quickly realized was from a Polaroid camera.
Franco closed the trunk and wiped his hands. “How’d the picture come out?” he asked Angelo.
“Gotta wait a minute,” Angelo said. He was holding the edges of the photo as it was developing.
“Just a second longer,” Franco said to Raymond.
Raymond involuntarily moaned under his breath, while his eyes scanned the immediate area. He was terrified anybody else had seen the corpse.
“Looks good,” Angelo said. He handed the picture to Franco who agreed.
Franco reached out with the photo so Raymond could see it.
“I’d say that’s your best side,” Franco said.
Raymond swallowed. The picture accurately depicted his shocked terror as well as the awful image of the dead girl.
Franco pocketed the picture. “There, that’s it, Doc,” he said. “I told you we wouldn’t need a lot of your time.”
“Why did you do this?” Raymond croaked.
“It was Vinnie’s idea,” Franco said. “He thought it best to have a record of the favor he’d done for you just in case.”
“In case of what?” Raymond asked.
Franco spread his hands. “In case of whatever.”
Franco and Angelo got into the car. Raymond stepped up onto the sidewalk. He watched until the Ford had gone to the corner and disappeared.
“Good Lord!” Raymond murmured. He turned and headed back to his door on unsteady legs. Every time he solved one problem another emerged.
The shower had revived Jack. Since Laurie had not included any injunction about riding his bike this time, Jack decided to ride. He cruised south at a good clip. Given the bad experiences he’d had in the park the previous year, he stayed on Central Park West all the way to Columbus Circle.
From Columbus Circle, Jack shot across Fifty-ninth Street to Park Avenue. At that time of the evening, Park Avenue was a dream, and he took it all the way to Laurie’s street. He secured his bike with his collection of locks and went to Laurie’s door. Before ringing her bell, he took a moment to compose himself, determining how best to act and what to say.
Laurie met him at the door, with a wide grin on her face. Before he could even say a word, she threw her free arm around his neck to give him a hug. In her other hand, she was balancing a glass of wine.
“Uh-oh,” she said, stepping back. She eyed the wild state of his close-cropped hair. “I forgot about the bike issue. Don’t tell me you rode down here.”
Jack shrugged guiltily.
“Well, at least you made it,” Laurie said. She unzipped his leather jacket and peeled it off his back.
Jack could see Lou sitting on the sofa, with a grin that rivaled the Cheshire cat’s.
Laurie took Jack’s arm and pulled him into the living room. “Do you want the surprise first or do you want to eat first?” she asked.
“Let’s have the surprise,” Jack said.
“Good,” Lou said. He bounded off the couch and went to the TV.
Laurie guided Jack to the spot Lou had just vacated. “Do you want a glass of wine?”
Jack nodded. He was confused. He hadn’t seen any ring, and Lou was intently studying the VCR remote. Laurie disappeared into the kitchen but was soon back with Jack’s wine.
“I don’t know how to do this,” Lou complained. “At home, my daughter runs the VCR.”
Laurie took the remote, then told Lou that he had to turn on the TV first.
Jack took a sip of the wine. It wasn’t much better than what he’d brought the previous night.
Laurie and Lou joined Jack on the couch. Jack looked from one to the other, but they were ignoring him. They were intently watching the TV screen.
“What’s this surprise?” Jack asked.
“Just watch,” Laurie said, pointing toward the electronic snow on the TV.
More confused than ever, Jack looked at the screen. All of a sudden, there was music and the CNN logo followed by the image of a moderately obese man coming out of a Manhattan restaurant Jack recognized as Positano. The man was surrounded by a group of people.
“Should I put on the sound?” Laurie asked.
“Nah, it’s not necessary,” Lou said.
Jack watched the sequence. When it was over he looked at Laurie and Lou. Both had huge smiles.
“What is going on here?” Jack questioned. “How much wine have you two been drinking?”
“Do you recognize what you’ve just seen?” Laurie asked.
“I’d say it was somebody getting shot,” Jack said.
“It’s Carlo Franconi,” Laurie said. “After watching it, does it remind you of anything?”
“Sort of reminds me of those old tapes of Lee Harvey Oswald getting shot,” Jack said.
“Show it to him again,” Lou suggested.
Jack watched the sequence for the second time. He divided his attention between the screen and watching Laurie and Lou. They were captivated.
After the second run-through, Laurie again turned to Jack and said: “Well?”
Jack shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Let me run certain sections in slow motion,” Laurie said. She used the remote to isolate the sequence to where Franconi was about to climb into the limo. She ran it in slow motion, and then stopped it exactly at the moment he was shot. She walked up to the screen and pointed at the base of the man’s neck. “There’s the entry point,” she said.
Using the remote again, she advanced to the moment of the next impact when the victim was falling to his right.
“Well, I’ll be damned!” Jack remarked with astonishment. “My floater might be Carlo Franconi!”
Laurie spun around from facing the TV. Her eyes were blazing. “Exactly!” she said triumphantly. “Obviously, we haven’t proved it yet but with the entrance wounds and the paths of the bullets in the floater, I’d be willing to bet five dollars.”
“Whoa!” Jack commented. “I’ll take you up on a five-dollar wager, but I want to remind you that’s a hundred percent higher than any bet you’ve ever made in my presence.”
“I’m that sure,” Laurie said.
“Laurie is so fast at making associations,” said Lou. “She picked up on the similarities right away. She always makes me feel stupid.”
“Get out of here!” Laurie said, giving Lou a friendly shove.
“Is this the surprise you guys wanted to tell me about?” Jack asked cautiously. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.
“Yes,” Laurie said. “What’s the matter? Aren’t you as excited as we are?”
Jack laughed with relief. “Oh, I’m just tickled pink!”