“I don’t think we can make this decision until we find Stocker,” said Saltz. “Or at least give it one more shot. What’s to lose? If we don’t find him by the trial we’ll just take the money.”
“If we don’t agree quickly, Lou,” I said, “they’re going to pull the offer.”
“What was that?” said the other doctor, a podiatrist.
“They are offering us this amount so they don’t have to spend the money to prepare for trial,” I explained. “If they have to spend that money, then they might decide to screw the offer and try the thing. And if they do, I believe they’re going to beat us.”
“That’s not fair,” said the podiatrist, a stricken look on his face. “They offer us a hundred and twenty thousand, that’s what we should get.”
“The only way to make sure we get it is to agree to the settlement now.”
“How much time do you think we have?” asked Lefkowitz.
“Not much, a few days, maybe a week. But they could pull the offer at any time.”
“All right,” said Costello. “I heard enough.”
“Maybe we should talk a bit privately, without you, Victor,” said Saltz. “Is that all right?”
“Sure,” I said, standing. “You’re the clients.”
I stood in the hallway outside the room and again mentally spent the settlement money. With the fifteen-thousand-dollar retainer for the Chester Concannon case we were almost current with our bills and had paid Ellie what we owed her. We had even gotten Vimhoff off our backs by paying rent. My share of the forty thousand would be enough to start getting my financial life in order, to almost bring me current on my student loans, to even start paying back my father. Down the line there would be more money from CUP for my defense of Concannon, not to mention the fees I would make on the Valley Hunt Estates deal with the Bishop brothers, from whom that very day I had accepted the outside counsel spot, with enough work promised to keep Derringer and Carl going for half a year. Oh man, yes, things were looking up.
I had played the meeting perfectly, I thought. Saltz was my biggest problem, seeking as he was the big hit, but I figured the others would each take the ten thousand and run. As soon as I told them of the offer, I knew it was as if the money was already in their pockets. Then, at the end of the meeting, I raised the possibility of the offer being withdrawn, as if a pickpocket were reaching into their wallets and pulling out ten one-thousand dollar bills. These guys didn’t build their fortunes by giving back ten grand here and there. At last I was starting to learn the secrets of the rich: whenever you have a chance for money grab it, quickly, clutch it to your chest as if it were life itself. That’s how the rich got rich and that’s how I would get rich too. Their signed releases were my first step. I had already instructed Ellie to prepare the documents so as to waste as little time as possible and they were now in the conference room, in a maroon folder, sitting in the middle of the table like a glorious centerpiece.
It was Saltz who came out to get me.
“We’ve reached a consensus,” said Saltz when I was seated back at the table.
“We’re gonna accept the offer,” said Costello.
“Terrific,” I said, reaching for the file with the releases.
“But not just yet,” said Costello.
“We want you to try one more time to find Stocker,” said Saltz.
“There’s a private investigator I use,” said Lefkowitz. “The diamond business is full of swindlers and you get taken now and then no matter how careful you are. This guy always comes through for me.”
“We’re going to give this guy three weeks to find that accountant son of a bitch,” said Costello.
“We’ll cover his cost,” said Saltz. “We think the offer will still be good in three weeks.”
“And if it’s not, they can go to hell,” said Costello. “We don’t like being pressured.”
“If he comes up empty,” said Saltz, “we’ll take the hundred and twenty grand. But if he finds him, we’ll nail those bastards to a cross.”
“Frankly, Victor,” said Costello. “We’re all in agreement. Ten thousand dollars plus or minus is not going to change our lives. But these guys took us for a ride and now if we can make them pay big time, it’s worth the risk. This goes way beyond money.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” said Saltz. “And we know you’ll want us to stick to our principles.”
“Do you have a piece of paper for me?” said Lefkowitz. I reached into the file and took out one of the unsigned releases. He turned it over and scribbled on the back. “This is the name of my guy. I’ll call him tonight and set up a meeting for you tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Friday, so sometime early is better. About ten? Fine. He’ll be here at ten.”
He slid the release back to me. I read the name out loud. “Morris Kapustin? What kind of private eye has a name like Morris Kapustin?”
“He’s tougher than he sounds,” said Lefkowitz. “Morris is something special.”
“Give him the three weeks,” said Costello. “If he craps out then take the money, quick. We don’t need another meeting.”
“Is that all right?” asked Saltz.
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” I said.
“That a boy,” said Saltz.
“I’m an easy guy to get along with,” said Costello. “But I hate being taken and those bastards took me.”
“You and Morris will get them,” said Lefkowitz.
“That’s right,” said Costello. “Pound a stake through their fucking hearts.”
16
I WAS WALKING SALTZ through our small reception area, feeling almost desperate about having to wait for my cut of the settlement, when I saw Veronica sitting on the Naugahyde couch by the door. She was wearing her short black dress with dark stockings and black high heels. Her legs were crossed in a way that was hard not to notice. When Saltz saw her he stopped walking and stared.
“Veronica,” I said. “This is a surprise.”
“Your receptionist told me I could wait here. Is she always so unpleasant?”
“Unpleasantness is Rita’s special talent,” I said. “Give me a minute.”
I dragged Saltz out of the office. He didn’t seem to want to talk about the case anymore. “Is she a friend of yours?”
“A client of sorts. She has a landlord problem.”
“If she needs a doctor,” said Saltz, “give her my name.”
“She’s a little young for a cardiologist,” I said.
“I’m versatile,” said Saltz. He leaned backwards to peer through the windowed door. From where we were standing we could only see her long stockinged legs. “Besides,” he said, tapping me on the chest, “that girl’s a walking heart attack.”
“So, Veronica,” I said when I came back into the office. “Another critter turn up dead on your doorstep?”
She was fiddling around in her little black purse. “I was just in your part of town and I thought we could have a drink together.”
“I have too much work.”
“When can you get free?” she asked.
“December.”
She placed her feet beneath her and stood up gracefully. “I’m supposed to meet Jimmy for dinner tonight at eight. Let’s have a drink beforehand.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I have too much work. There’s the trial and…”
She placed her hand on my arm. “I have two hours free. It’s so sad when I am forced to drink alone.”
“Then don’t drink. Go to a bookstore. Catch a movie.”
“But it’s happy hour, Victor.”
“I really can’t.”
“Of course you can. Didn’t you have fun last night?”
“Yes,” I said, and I did.
Despite the overt threat of that limousine parked on Church Street, I had let Veronica take me to the Society Hill Bar and Grill, where we drank cocktails and listened to the bearded piano player and talked about nothing and laughed and talked some more and were both ever so clever. There was something about Veronica, a certain carelessness maybe, that brought forth a depraved charm I didn’t know existed within me, and I liked it. I had always seen myself as a social cluck, dull witted, slow, my conversation frozen with indecision during blind dates or cocktail parties. But sitting at the bar with Veronica, being raked with the gazes of the other men there, all wondering what a jerk like me was doing with someone like her, feeding off her sweet perverseness, my self-confidence blossomed. I was something more than I had ever been. I told stories and she laughed. I kept up my end of a sparkling conversation. I was Henry James, I was James Bond, I was a raconteur.