"Now I know what you whispered to Tescione."
"No you don't. You can guess, but you'll never know. We made sure of that. Listen, Doc: the stakeout was blown and I didn't think we'd snag him. And if we did, chances are he'd walk, or get life. And I'll tell you one thing: I want Carmen DeLucca dead. On a slab. He's a goddamn animal."
Joe stalked out of the study and through the hall to the little phone booth underneath the stairway. Before he could close the door after him I held it.
"Joe. What would happen if O'Hearn and the others at Ten-Ten Comm. Ave. got wind you'd met with Paul Tescione in his office?"
He stood there glaring at me with the phone cradled in his big hairy paw and a new cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, trailing smoke. He needed a shave. Joe always needs a shave. He smelled of stale sweat and old smoke and food and booze. I saw a corner of his shoulder holster peeping through his coat. He was straight out of a Cagney flick. He was scary.
"Seewwww what!" He snarled. "They wouldn't particularly give a shit. But anyway, they'll never find out. Know why?"
"Why?".
"Because you don't want to take a fall for a B and E, remember?"
He slammed the door after him and pushed buttons while I went back into the study. They say when you fight an enemy long enough you begin to take on his characteristics. Maybe they're right; all Joe. needed was a big white fedora. He marched from the booth.
"Where are you going?" Mary asked him as he went to the door. He kissed her on the cheek, thanked both of us, and said he'd just alerted his own people to check on Rizzo. Knowing what they'd find, he thought it best to be on hand.
"At least the Mob wasn't in on the Robinson-Santuccio hit," he said as he paused at the open door. "I mean, I think he's leveling with us."
"I do too. I don't think it was the Mob."
"And if the hot item never surfaces, then so much the better. All I want now is DeLucca on a slab and I'm happy."
He left. Mary and I went into the kitchen and started up the coffee machine. She sat at the kitchen table and rubbed her fingers nervously over her eyes and forehead. Then she played with her hair, kneading and pulling at it like a grumpy child. She gazed down at the table, ignoring her coffee. Mary had had it. She was wrung out and exhausted. I patted her back.
"I can't wait for the trip," she said, resting her head down on her forearms. "When do we leave? The third?"
"Yep. Day before the Fourth of July. The Flight to Milan is out of New York, and I've heard the Tall Ships will be in the harbor…".
"Good. Jeeez, I can't wait to get out of here for a while."
I opened the swing-out, lead-pane windows and let the spring breeze in. Mary sighed.
"At least it's just about over… this thing."
"Yep," I said, and went to get a magazine. On the hall table I spotted a manila envelope with no writing on it. I opened it. Inside were some police circulars on Carmen DeLucca and some glossy photos of him. He had black eyes like a Gila monster. He did not look like a nice guy. Joe had left the envelope with us, probably by mistake. I pulled one of the big glossy prints out of the envelope and took it in to Mary. It would be interesting to see if she could recognize a mad-dog killer just by his face and eyes.
She was slumped against the table, playing idly with her earring. She looked tired. I slid the photo in front of her. She glanced at it and looked up. -
"Where'd you get that?"
"Joe left it here. What do you think of it?"
"It's a good photo. It's him all right. Joe works pretty fast."
"What are you talking about? What do you mean, it's him?"
"The guy who came to fix our furnace. I remember he had a bandaged hand, too."
"Oh," I said, putting the photo away. Danny, our yellow Lab, raced into the room, his toenails clicking on the linoleum, and jumped up to the window, paws on the sill. He sniffed and began a low growl, the fur on his back rising in a dark patch.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I never left the house the next morning. He came in through the front door wearing a green jumpsuit. Mary thought he was the UPS man.
"Charlie…?" I heard her call to me in a high, thin voice that wavered. I came around the hallway to see her standing straight up, as if stretching back, with a green arm around her neck and a small black gun pointing at the side of her head. But I wasn't looking at the gun; I was staring at the four-inch blade that extended down from the right fist of the green sleeve. The tip of the blade was pressed into the material of Mary's nightgown right over her left breast. The fist twitched. The knifepoint dipped into the soft fabric.
Mary gave a yelp and a high, whining shudder.
My knees began to shake and my mouth and throat felt numb and full of electric currents. My hair was moving.
And from around in back of Mary's head of long black hair crept a face.
I was expecting the black Gila-monster eyes, the black hair and wide face. But the face that glared at me with animal hate was not that one. And I was still rational enough to realize why: Mary would have recognized it. A blondish baby's face sat round and pink under the driver's cap.
"Listen real good," it said quietly. "We see three dogs out back. Two big ones and a little one. Any more in here?"
"No."
We. He'd said we…
"Now: anybody else in the house? Any kids, old folks? Anybody?"
"No. We're alone."
"Now you don't wanta lie."
"We're alone I said."
"Okay. Now where's the switch for those lights at the front door? Walk over to it but don't touch it."
I did, and he walked Mary along until he was directly opposite me. She was looking at me and at the ceiling. Her eyes weren't focused, and her breath was coming in little whiny pants, like a dog crying.
"Charlie? Ohhh…"
He silenced her by a short, hard rap on the head with the barrel of the pistol. It must have hurt terribly. She clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. Tears rolled down her face. I wanted to kill the man. But I knew better than to move a muscle.
"Now you flip it on while I count three, then you turn it off, hear?"
I nodded, and flashed the light on for three seconds. Almost immediately afterward I heard a distant car door slam. Then footsteps on the gravel walk, and two men dressed in street clothes came in. The door had been left open, and they were inside in a hurry, shutting the door behind them.
"Good morning everyone!" said the man with the wide hat. His right hand held an automatic. I couldn't see his face. Then his left hand went up and grabbed the hat brim. The hand was bandaged. The hat came off and we could all see him now.
It was Carmen DeLucca. He stared at me, smiling. Then suddenly the smile dropped. The lizard eyes bored into mine.
"Hear you been looking for me, Doctor Adams. Well, I saved you the trouble. You both do exactly as we tell you or you'll die."
He walked farther into the hall, and motioned the third man to bring the large carton that had been the ruse for Mary to unfasten the chain bolt. He turned and looked at both of us again.
"Matter of fact, you might just die anyway."
CHAPTER TWENTY
It was now almost nine; an hour and a half had passed since the three hoods had forced their way into the house. It felt like a century and a half. Mary had become hysterical and Babyface had led her into the downstairs john, seated her on the toilet, and handcuffed her left wrist to the radiator pipe in there. The door was left open a few inches so we could all hear her. They had me in the living room, my right wrist handcuffed to the arm of a heavy desk chair.