Partners in Crime (14 page)

“There you are, Jimmy,” the real Jimmy said, displaying his prominent teeth in a condescending smile. “I wondered when I’d see you again. Not in any trouble are you, my boy?”

“None at all,” Sandy said between his teeth. “It was good of you to meet us.”

“Not at all, Jimmy, not at all. After all, you’ve kept me busy these past few years. It’s no trouble to lend you a hand.” He put his newly manicured hands on the car, leaning down to leer at Jane. “You must be Jimmy’s little friend. Do you realize what sort of man you’re hanging out with, Miss...?”

“No names,” Sandy snapped, getting out of the car and fiddling uselessly with the lock. He hadn’t been able to lock the MGB since 1978, but he always made a pretense of it in case someone happened to be looking.

And Jimmy was looking very carefully, his attention torn between the leather bra and the exterior of the MGB. “He’s a pretty unsavory character,” Jimmy continued, opening the door for her and watching with undisguised admiration as she slid her luscious legs out. Those tattered jeans did nothing to disguise their long, graceful length, and Sandy was on the edge of shoving Jimmy out of the way if he didn’t stop drooling.

“Then why do you do so many favors for him?” Jane asked sweetly.

“Favors?” Jimmy echoed, mystified as well as entranced.

“Pay for his motel, cover his bills, even lend him your monogrammed bathrobe,” Jane said innocently. “How do you know he won’t run off with all your things?”

“Don’t forget the apartment,” Sandy piped up helpfully. “It was very decent of you to lend us your Park Avenue apartment since you’re going out of town.”

“You know,” Jimmy mused, leaning forward and peering beneath Jane’s feathers, “I may stay in town after all. There’s plenty of room for you at my place anyway, but I might as well be a good host.”

Sandy came over and slung a friendly arm around Jimmy’s shoulders, grinding his bones with just enough pressure to make his accomplice turn pale without actually groaning in pain. “We appreciate the thought, Alexander, but we know how important that Baltimore case is. We’ll just have to let you go.”

Jimmy smiled weakly. Baltimore held a great many unpleasant secrets, most of which Sandy knew. “You’re right, Jimmy,” he said. “We’ll have to do it some other time.”

Sandy released his crushing grip, carefully moving Jimmy out of the way and taking Jane’s arm in his. “Where’s Jabba? Does he know we’re coming?”

“He knows,” Jimmy said, and Sandy couldn’t miss the uneasiness in his voice. “I’m not sure your friend is going to like the company.”

“My name’s Jane,” she said, and Sandy could feel the tension beneath the feathers. “And I’m used to him. How bad could things get?”

Jimmy laughed, a high-pitched, nasal giggle. “Used to him?” he echoed, looking at Sandy’s thinly disguised patrician profile. “Honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“Sandy?” He could hear the beseeching note in Jane’s husky voice, and he placed his hand on top of her arm, pressing slightly.

“You don’t have to come,” he said. He wished there was some way short of the truth that could keep her miles away from Jabba Matteo. But Jane Dexter was nothing if not a determined woman, and even the outlandish costume he’d provided hadn’t deterred her.

“I’m coming,” she said, her momentary hesitation gone.

He looked down into her somber eyes, surrounded by the rainbow streaks. She didn’t trust him, and she was wise not to. But the one thing she could trust him with was her safety. Tonight, he was deliberately leading a woman into a dangerous situation beyond her own control. He had to count on the hope that it wouldn’t be beyond his.

He managed a casual shrug. “Suit yourself,” he said, ignoring Jimmy’s admiring expression. “But remember to keep your eyes down and your mouth shut. We’re heading into a patriarchal society, and no one’s interested in equal rights around here. Understand?”

“Understood.” She tried to pull away from him, but he held fast, his fingers tightening on her arm. The more he held on, the more she tugged, and in another moment they would have been involved in a wrestling match in the middle of the Lower East Side, when Jimmy decided to intervene.

Sandy was so startled he released her, and Jimmy took her arm with more graceful aplomb than he’d shown in his entire misspent life. “I’ll take care of her, old boy,” he murmured. “You just take care of yourself.” And he started off down the littered, crowded sidewalks, Jane walking meekly enough beside him.

Sandy didn’t move for a long moment, staring after his best Armani suit on Jimmy’s stooped shoulders, watching Jane’s magnificent legs and that absurd tangle of hair. Others were watching, the curious, sullen eyes so prevalent in a domain of criminals. Watching Jane and Jimmy’s progress, watching Sandy, watching the MGB that couldn’t be locked. Sandy gave it one last worried glance. He loved his aging, impossible-to-tune car with a passion he reserved for nothing else, and he couldn’t rid himself of the miserable possibility that when he returned it would be gone.

But it was a choice between his car and Jane. And to his surprise there was no question at all which one mattered. Without another glance at the shiny blue finish, he hurried down the sidewalk after his former client. He could always buy another car.

W
hat in the world am I getting myself into,
Jane thought as she moved along the broken sidewalks. She was in a part of New York her parents had always warned her about, and she was on the verge of meeting people she scarcely believed existed. The only protection she had was her own somewhat limited abilities, a felon who looked like a prince, and a lawyer who looked like a felon. Between Sandy and his lawyer there wasn’t much choice, and if she had any sense at all she would have stayed at the motel in the first place instead of dressing up in such outlandish gear and walking the streets of the Lower East Side.

Her sense of uneasiness had been growing by the day, by the hour, compounded by the sudden intensity of the situation in which she found herself. Something bothered her about Sandy, and she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. Something that didn’t ring true, and every time she felt she was coming close to understanding it he’d do something distracting like kiss her. It had an amazing power to cloud her mind, but she couldn’t afford to let it happen again. She’d managed to keep her own raging reactions under control, but it was a close call each time. Next time she might not make it.

The lawyer beside her didn’t seem right either. She knew his suit was worth a small fortune, but the shoes didn’t match. They were too shiny, and the black and white patent clashed with the muted colors of the suit. His hair was badly cut—more for flash than for style, and the diamond ring on his pinky simply didn’t look Princeton to her. But times had changed, and there was no question that her family had been elitist snobs. Maybe large diamond pinky rings were more in vogue than she remembered.

“Not far now,” the unlikely lawyer said, guiding her around a corner and down a poorly lit alley where the debris underfoot was even thicker. He smelled of expensive cologne, but it was a brand Jane particularly disliked. Sandy was following behind them, not close enough, and for a moment she regretted struggling with him. She’d rather have his hand under her elbow. His fingers wouldn’t be squeezing and stroking in a nasty, encroaching sort of way.

The alley was a dead end. There was a brick wall in front of them, windowless, doorless buildings on either side, with garbage heaped around a decrepit looking dumpster. The lawyer released her, heading straight for the rusty dumpster, as Sandy came up behind her.

“Second thoughts?” he inquired gently, the soft voice at odds with the punk appearance.

Jane watched with deep misgivings as the side to the dumpster swung open, spilling forth light and noise into the alley way. She considered lying, but it would be a waste of breath. Already Sandy knew her far too well. “And third and fourth and fifth thoughts,” she said. “Do I really have to walk into a dumpster?”

The sleazy-looking lawyer was beckoning them toward the narrow stairs inside the camouflage garbage container, and as Jane moved closer she noticed that every attempt at authenticity had been made. The metal bin stank of rotting garbage.

“Too late to turn back now,” Sandy said, his hand replacing his lawyer’s on her befeathered elbow. And she’d been right—it was strong, comforting, the human warmth enabling her to duck her teased head and step into the narrow flight of stairs.

She went down slowly, following the Armani suit, Sandy directly behind her. As the smell of garbage faded, another scent replaced it, one of expensive, musky perfumes and colognes, whiskey and humanity. Not the rank sweat of the subway, this was expensive, freshly washed sweat. When she reached the bottom of the steps she stopped, absorbing the feel of Sandy’s body as he bumped into her.

It looked like an odd combination of Chinese brothel, upscale nightclub and Soho loft. The place was packed, though nowhere could Jane see anyone she’d particularly like to socialize with. Feathers, chains, leather and hardware abounded. Jane was instantly grateful Sandy had taken her glasses. She had the distinct feeling she wouldn’t care to see anyone here more closely, and she followed Caldicott blindly through the thick smoke and haze, her eyes downcast, as ordered.

“Hey, Jimmy,” a man’s voice called out, and she could feel Sandy’s hand tighten reflexively on her elbow. She waited for him to respond, but Caldicott did it for him.

“Where’s Jabba, Crystal?”

“He expecting you?”

“Would I be here if he wasn’t?”

“Who knows?” the husky, cheerful voice responded. “Maybe you’ve brought some fresh talent. Who’s your little feathered friend?”

“Ask Jabba,” Caldicott replied cheerfully, as Jane bit back a tiny moan of sheer panic and claustrophobia.

“You ask Jabba. He’s in the back. I’ll tell him you’re here.” Jane allowed herself a brief glance at their interrogator, and then wished she hadn’t. The voice had been basso profundo, the hair a Dolly Parton wig, the dress Ralph Lauren ruffles. She dropped her gaze to a thick pair of ankles and size twelve spike heels as they disappeared toward the back.

“Great guy,” Caldicott said cheerfully. “Lucky we ran into him. I might have had a hell of a time finding Jabba.”

“I thought this was prearranged,” Sandy said, and Jane turned to look back at him in surprise. Her easy-going partner in crime sounded downright dangerous, and Caldicott reacted with uncharacteristic nervousness.

“It’s as prearranged as things get with Matteo. I explained what was going on,” Caldicott said uneasily. He had a prominent Adam’s apple above his silk knotted tie, and it was bobbing in agitation.

“You’d better have,” Sandy said softly, his voice a very definite threat. He caught Jane’s fascinated gaze, and immediately smiled at her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She wet her lips, tasting the strawberry flavor of the purple-black lipstick. “I just suddenly realized how dangerous you could be,” she said, her voice faltering.

He seemed equally as startled. “Only to low-lifes like him,” he said. “Never to you.”

She managed a weak smile in the noise and smoke. “You call your lawyer a low-life? What does that make you?”

His expression was instantly veiled. “An entrepreneur,” he said. “And your partner in crime, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t.” She was too nearsighted to tell if everyone was watching them, but she couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that countless hostile eyes were following their every move. “Sandy,” she said, her voice low and beseeching, “I think I’m frightened.”

If everyone was watching them that fact had no effect on Sandy. He pulled her into his arms, feathers, leather bra and all, and he was hot and strong and safe around her. She hid there, her face pressed against his shoulder, the noise and lights swirling around them, as she slowly pulled her strength back around her. He held her just as long as she needed holding, and when she felt strong enough to move away he released her instantly.

“Feel better?” he inquired in the most casual of voices.

She managed a tremulous smile. “Yes.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let the bad guys get you.”

“They wouldn’t want me, would they?” she countered seriously.

“They’d be fools not to.”

“This way.” Caldicott was back between them, his cologne overpowering the other, more suspect smells of the crowded rooms, and, Jane had no chance to respond. The lawyer had her hand caught tightly in his, tugging her through the maze of chattering, bright-eyed people toward a door in the back, and she followed, certain that Sandy was right behind her.

The silence of the next room was thick and shocking after the cacophony before, and the filtered light only compounded Jane’s myopia as the lawyer drew her to a halt. Sandy was beside her, his hand caught her other one, and slowly she lifted her eyes to the figure in front of them.

She had never seen a human being so immense in her entire life. He seemed to fill the end of the narrow room, and in the gray filtered light he seemed an amorphous blob of semihumanity, larger than three normal people put together. He was dressed in some sort of gray suit, but his abundant flesh spilled around him. His skin was pasty gray, his eyes dark little raisins in a face of suet, his mouth was small and cruel and pink. He was smiling at them with that mouth, and he waved a fat, balloon-like hand in greeting.

“Welcome, friends,” he said, and his voice was another surprise. She would have expected something low and rumbling from that mountain of flesh, but instead it came out in a high-pitched wheeze, barely carrying the length of the empty room. On second glance Jane noticed the room wasn’t empty at all. Stationed at strategic points along the bare walls were studiously casual men, their loose jackets concealing their weapons. Jane shuddered, and she could feel the cool dampness of the hands in hers. Both Sandy and his nefarious lawyer were just as scared of Jabba Matteo as she was.

“How nice to finally meet you, Mr. Caldicott,” Matteo purred, his voice lilting his amusement. “I’ve been hoping for a chance to repay the favor you did me and mine so long ago, and now that time has come. And as I live and breathe, this must be Jimmy the Stoolie. Come closer, young man, and tell me how I can assist you and this surprising young lady.”