Fat Tuesday (18 page)

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Authors: Sandra Brown

Tags: #Contemporary, #Crime, #Suspense, #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Mystery & Detective

BOOK: Fat Tuesday
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Apparently it had been considered, but discarded in favor of the one she was wearing. Burke picked it up, rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

Silk. He replaced it across the stool, exactly as it had been.

Noticing the seam in the mirrored wall above the countertop, he depressed it, and a section of mirror swung out, revealing a medicine cabinet. Toothbrush and toothpaste, Visine, Stresstabs, Q-Tips, tampons, aspirin, oral contraceptives. No other prescriptions.

He closed the cabinet and was about to turn away when he noticed that the marble surface of her dressing table was lightly dusted with talcum.

The body powder was stored in a round crystal box topped with an ornate silver lid. Beside it was a luxurious lamb's-wool powder puff, which he picked up and sniffed. The fragrance was unmistakably familiar.

He brushed his fingertips across the fuzzy surface of the powder puff, conjuring up tantalizing speculations as to the exotic spots it had last visited.

What the fuck are you doing, Basile? Get the hell out of here.

He returned the puff to its place beside the crystal box and left the dressing room as though the devil were at his heels. At the bedroom door he paused to listen. Hearing nothing, he eased open the door and stepped into the hallway.

He was midway down the stairs when Errol appeared in the entry.

Errol, apparently on his way to use the bathroom, stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Father Kevin loping down the stairs. Burke smiled disarmingly."If you're going to the can, you might need this."

He tossed the bodyguard a roll of toilet tissue.

Errol, still confused, fumbled it before catching it against his chest. "The powder room was out of paper, so I had to use the one at the top of the stairs."

Errol pushed open the door to the powder room and looked at the toilet tissue spool, from which Burke had removed the roll before going upstairs. He had carried it right back down again, but it appeared that he'd brought it from the other bathroom."I thought, long as I was up there, I'd replace the roll down here. Never know when someone might need it." He grinned, man to man."Of course, it depends on what you have to do." "Yeah," Errol said with uncertainty."Thanks."

Burke started off in the direction of the solarium before he came back around, as though an idea had just occurred to him."Say, if Mr. and Mrs. Duvall become involved in Jenny's House, maybe you'd like to participate, too. Helping out with the boys, organizing games, something like that."

"I don't think so. Mr. Duvall keeps me pretty busy."

"Well, it was just a thought." Burke turned away and this time didn't stop until he was back in the solarium, where Gregory was still talking.

"Father Kevin and I think it's essential that the children who stay at Jenny's House are given chores. That will make it seem less like a charitable facility and more like a normal home."

"Excellent idea, Father."

Gregory glanced at Burke with evident relief."Father Kevin and I agree that giving the children a sense of responsibility, and praising even the smallest achievement, is the first step toward reversing the negative effects they've suffered thus far and building self-esteem."

Mrs. Duvall turned to Burke for confirmation. He nodded in agreement, but at that moment he would have agreed to the theory that the moon was cream cheese. It was damn near impossible to maintain a godly expression so soon after handling her body powder puff. He tried to keep his gaze above the cross hanging from the chain around her neck, but it was a battle royal of wills between his id and his ego.

"God has blessed this visit, Father Kevin." Gregory held up a check for ten thousand dollars made out to Jenny's House.

"You're very generous, Mrs. Duvall. God bless you."

"God bless your mission, Father Kevin."

Burke stood."We shouldn't take up any more of your time."

"Of course, we wouldn't want to do that." Gregory also came to his feet."Once I start talking about Jenny's House, there's no stopping me."

"I've enjoyed it," she said."Can't you stay until my husband gets home? I know he would like to meet you."

"No, no, we've got to run," Gregory said."More calls to make.

Some other time, perhaps."

Burke passed her a business card."I'm sure you'd like to hear progress reports. Please call anytime."

"Thank you, I will."

"In fact, you might enjoy seeing the facility for yourself."

The suggestion rendered Father Gregory mute. He gaped at Father Kevin with dumbstruck disbelief. Mrs. Duvall, on the other hand, was delighted at the prospect."Would that be possible?"

"No."

"Of course."

Gregory and Burke answered at the same time, but Burke's reply overrode Gregory's. Sheepishly, he said, "Naturally, whatever Father Kevin wishes. I merely thought we would wait to have a formal open house once the facility is completed. You know, invite all its supporters at once," he added lamely.

- "I'm sure Mrs. Duvall would prefer a private tour," Burke said, looking deeply into her eyes.

"I don't expect preferential treatment," she said, 'but I would very much like to see the work in progress. Maybe I could help out."

"Your contribution is help enough, I assure you," Father Gregory said, sounding a bit desperate.

"But a favorable report from me might urge my husband to contribute even more."

Burke smiled."All the more reason for you to make a personal visit.

Call whenever you'd like to go. We'll make ourselves available to fit your schedule."

" Make ourselves available'? Fit your schedule'? Jesus, we're gonna die."

"Will you stop that caterwauling? You're giving me a headache."

"What have you got me into, Basile? I don't like this. I agreed to do you a favor, and I came through, didn't I? Not once, but twice. But this is it. Finis. Applause, applause. Curtain down. Lights out and everybody goes home. No encore. I've performed my last scene with you. You keep changing the dialogue. And where did you go when you left the room?"

'"To pee."

"Oh sure, you did. I think you went snooping, is what I think."

"That's one of your main problems, Gregory. You think too much.

You'd do better to simply go with the flow."

"If I go with the flow, I'm liable to wind up floating facedown in the Mighty Mississip'. My life is hardly studded with accomplishments, but I'm not ready to die. Consider me out. As of now."

The argument continued all the way to Gregory's townhouse. Burke leaned across the other man and opened the passenger door."Go in, put your feet up, have a glass or two of wine, and calm down. I'll be in touch."

"I'm out. O-u-t."

"They don't serve Pinot Noir with dinner in prison, Gregory."

"You can't keep threatening me with jail. You've got nothing on me."

"Maybe not today. But give it a week or two. I'll stay on you like a duck on a June bug. Sooner or later, you'll act on those impulses that, by your own admission, you can't control."

'"My shrink and I are making progress."

"No, he's making money off what he knows is a hopeless case.

You're a psycho sugar tit and he's latched on."

Gregory slumped in his seat."You're a bastard, Basile."

"We've established that."

"You're stronger willed than I am. I can't win with you. Everybody picks on me." Burke reached across the car, grabbed Gregory by the hair, and turned his head toward him."Listen to me, you sniveling, spoiled, little shit.

Believe it or not, this might be the best thing that ever happened to you in your whole miserable life. For once, somebody is making you do something you don't want to do. I'm giving you an opportunity to prove that you're better than everybody believes. I'm giving you a chance to be a man."

Gregory swallowed emotionally."I honestly don't think I can be, Basile. I'd like to be, but as you said, I'm hopeless. I wouldn't count on me if I were you."

"Well," Burke grumbled, releasing his hair, "unfortunately you're all I've got."

Gregory set one foot on the pavement but made no other move to get out.

After a time, he said, "This isn't a police operation, is it?"

"No." Burke looked directly at him."No, it's not. It's a personal vendetta. It has to do with my friend who got killed last year."

"I figured it was something like that. Thanks for finally being honest with me."

"You're welcome."

Averting his head, Burke gazed through the cloudy windshield of his car. He had to think about it for only a few seconds before saying, "Forget it, Gregory. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I lied to you and manipulated you every step of the way, and as you said yourself, that's unfair.

"I'm about to do something that's crazy and dangerous. You were right about that, too. In the process, you'd probably panic and screw up and end up dead. I don't need another death on my conscience. I needed your help on the clerical stuff, but I think I can wing it from here Thanks for your help."

Then, as an afterthought, he added, "I hate to see you screwing up your life, Gregory. If you don't get smart and clean up your act, you'll eventually get busted and sent away for a long time. One of these days your daddy won't be able to buy you out of a serious charge that disgusts not only the general populace but the prison population as well. In there, they'd make your life hell, and might even kill you.

Think hard about the consequences the next time you get the urge to whip it out and wag it at somebody, especially a kid."

Smiling wryly, he made the sign of the cross."Go and sin no more, my son." Then he reached for the gear shift and put it into reverse.

"Wait." Gregory's handsome features were rearranged by indecision.

He gnawed the inside of his cheek."Could I get into trouble? Or hurt?"

"I swear I'd try to prevent that, but there's a risk, yes."

After several long moments of private deliberation, the younger man sighed."Screw it. I'm in. What else have I got going?"

( hat do you mean he's disappeared?" v Bardo shrugged."Just what I said, Pinkie. Nobody's seen him around. When I went back to that shit hole he was living in, he'd moved out. I came down pretty hard on the landlord, but he swore to me that Basile left in the middle of the night. Dropped his rent and key in the mail slot. This isn't the kind of place where you leave a forwarding address. It's like he's vanished. One of our guys in the N.O.P.D has been sniffing around. He says nobody has heard from Basile since he surrendered his badge."

"You should have had someone tailing him."

"Yeah, well, who knew?"

Basile's seeming disappearance made Pinkie uneasy. Basile hadn't declined his job offer with a polite "No, but I'm flattered that you asked." He had refused in a way that left no room for negotiation.

This bothered Pinkie for two major reasons.

First, it pissed him off that a nobody ex-cop had insultingly refused a well-meaning offer. This was the first time Pinkie had tried to lure Basile to the other side of the narcotics business, but it wasn't the first time he had considered throwing out some bait to see if Basile would bite. What better way to eliminate an enemy than to enlist him in your camp?

And Basile was an enemy. Within the Narcotics Division, he'd been a constant nuisance, insisting that a postmortem be conducted on every operation, successful or not. He was a crusader, demanding accountability for mistakes, seeking out the whys and wherefores of every screw up. He was a nagging conscience that kept the department reasonably honest, although not entirely so.

Worse, he appeared to be incorruptible. Pinkie had commissioned purveyors of every conceivable vice to try to find a weak spot in Basile's moral armor. None had been successful not the bookies not the drug dealers, not the women. All had tried to compromise him, all had failed.

So for years Basile had plagued Pinkie Duvall's operation. He was a self-appointed general in the war against drugs and he had the ability to rally the troops. When Kev Stuart was killed, the conflict had turned personal. Basile was still bitter over that and, despite the Bardo verdict, was not going to let the matter drop. He wasn't going to rest until he had avenged Stuart's death. Quitting the N.O.P.D had been a smoke screen.

Which brought Pinkie to the second reason he had hoped Basile would sign on with him. He could keep a closer watch on him if he were an employee. As long as Basile was with the police department, his activities were easily monitored. Now he had vanished, and no one seemed to know his whereabouts or his intentions. Pinkie didn't like it.

A man didn't ascend to the powerful position Pinkie held without cultivating a legion of enemies along the way. He couldn't begin to count the threats, real and implied, that he'd received over the years.

He paid dearly for protection against people with grudges. He felt secure. Even so, he was smart enough to know that for all the precautions he took, he couldn't be one hundred percent protected, twenty-four hours a day. No one, not even a head of state, was invulnerable.

Burke Basile was out there, a loose cannon with a short fuse, harboring a lot of hatred for Pinkie Duvall. He'd be a fool not to be a little edgy about that.

The system in which Basile had placed his trust had failed him, so he'd thumbed his nose at it and walked away. His actions were no longer governed by the rules and regulations of law enforcement, which made him doubly dangerous.

Of course, Basile couldn't harm him without tarnishing himself but that was small comfort. Just how crazy was the man? How far was he willing to go to get his revenge? What did he have to lose? Not a career.

Not a wife and family. Nothing in the way of materia possessions. Not even his integrity or good reputation, which the media had trampled.

That's what disturbed Pinkie most. Experience had taught him that the less a person had to lose, the more of a threat he posed.

"I want him found," he told Bardo emphatically.

"What do I do when I find him?"

Pinkie gave him a pointed look.

Grinning, Bardo nodded."It'll be a pleasure."

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