Smart Moves (25 page)

“Let’s go,” I said and hurried past him into the hall. I locked the door behind us.

“Okay,” said Shelly, hurrying to keep up with me as I ran for the elevator. “Then we tell the police. They ask us questions. All right. It’ll be a little uncomfortable, but I’m a dentist. I have professional respect. And they can take over.”

I didn’t answer him. I didn’t even look at him while we waited for the elevator to come. I tried to think, couldn’t, gave up and thought about Carmichael. He hadn’t looked natty or spiffy on the bed in that room. He’d looked pale, rumpled, and dead.

The elevator came and we stepped in. There were other people already on. Shelly gave a guilty smile to all assembled and slunk back in the corner behind me.

When we hit the lobby I strode to the entrance. Carmichael had probably gotten the room for our meeting from a fellow house detective at the Waldorf. Eventually, that fellow detective would come looking for the room key when the desk clerk told him it hadn’t been returned. I didn’t want the police now. Police would mean Shelly and me tied up answering questions about Carmichael, gum exercises, and Einstein. While we were being entertained by the New York police, Einstein and Robeson might be fielding cutlery.

We waited about thirty minutes, Shelly looking as if he desperately needed a bathroom. He threatened to leave, to call the police on his own, to denounce me to the government, to bar me from conversation with him for a decade, to tell Mildred all of my known indiscretions and the comments I had made about her. None of it worked. I looked at Shelly, whose tux, soggy and loose, had begun to give up the battle for respectability. Maybe it was a wise old tux that realized it was no match for Minck. A car pulled up and this time, following a man in a tuxedo that fit him better than ours fit us, Einstein stepped out and looked around. His tux looked even worse than ours. The knees were baggy, the collar too large, the jacket sleeves too long. His hair was pushed back but not brushed. With a battered violin case under his right arm, he looked around and his large nose twitched as if he smelled something unpleasant.

Einstein was quickly surrounded by people leading, talking, smiling as he entered the hotel. I moved forward and was intercepted by the first guy who had come out of the car. “No, no,” said Einstein, putting a hand on the guy’s arm. “I know Mr. Peters.”

“We’ve got to talk,” I said.

Einstein looked at me and at Shelly, who looked like a great horned owl. “Who …” Einstein began, nodding at Shelly.

“Dr. Minck,” I explained. “A friend and colleague.”

“He appears to be undergoing some kind of seizure,” said Einstein, examining Shelly with curiosity.

“He’ll be fine,” I said. “Let’s talk.”

Two of Einstein’s escorts tried to talk him out of the detour, but the scientist insisted, telling the oldest of the men, “I prefer not to create a lobby show.”

A non-tuxed man with glasses, who looked like a hotel manager, turned out to be one and ushered us to an office to the right of the desk. He opened the door and asked us if we’d like anything. Shelly was about to come up with a room-service order but I declined for all three of us and stepped into the room. Einstein’s escort waited outside. I pushed the door of the small room shut. Desk, a couple of chairs, no window, a painting on the wall of people in a park near a lagoon. The people were sprawled around in shirtsleeves having lunch.

Einstein looked at the painting. “Renoir, I think,” he said, putting his violin down. “It would be nice to have a cigar.”

Instead of a cigar, Einstein got a story. I told him everything. The time passed. A knock came at the door. One of the white-haired escorts said we should get upstairs. Einstein waved him away after cadging a cigar. I went on with my tale, leaving out nothing as Einstein got behind the desk, smoked slowly, patted his violin case, and listened. He asked a few questions when I mentioned what Parker and Craig of the FBI had said about Walker. He asked a few more when I got to Carmichael, and then he sat, quietly puffing. Shelly started to speak. Einstein’s hand went up to silence him. Shelly shut up. I looked at the picnickers in the painting, the wheezing Shelly, and the calm Einstein. Einstein fished a pad of paper out of his jacket pocket and took some notes, scratched them out, scribbled some others, and looked up at us.

“I believe I know who killed these two men, why they killed them, and when they plan to kill me and perhaps Mr. Paul Robeson,” the scientist said. “Of course, we will need evidence to convince others but that evidence might be …”

This time the door opened and it wasn’t an escort, but Paul Robeson. He didn’t look crumpled or uncomfortable in his tuxedo, but like a man who wore the damn thing every day and could probably play tennis in one. “Dr. Einstein,” he said, leaving the door open. “Good to see you again.”

Einstein smiled, stood up, moved the cigar to the side, and shook hands with the dark man before him. “You know Mr. Peters and his friend, I understand?”

“Yes,” said Robeson, glancing at us.

“It seems there is a slight problem in our concert plans,” Einstein said, looking at the three men standing behind Robeson. “I’d rather it be kept in confidence, however.”

Robeson said something to Einstein in a language I didn’t understand.

“I speak no Russian,” said Einstein with a smile.

Robeson tried another language.

“And no Hebrew,” Einstein said with a smile.

Robeson tried something that sounded like French. Einstein answered and the rest of the room waited. When they were finished, Robeson turned to the rest of us and said, “We need a safe room somewhere in the hotel for an hour before the concert.”

The hotel manager looked at the escorts, didn’t hesitate, and said, “Certainly, please follow me.”

There was no point in trying to hide as we crossed the lobby, not this group. I knew who I was looking for now and that gave me some kind of edge, but I wasn’t comfortable with it. Einstein whispered something to Robeson, who nodded as the two walked ahead of us. I left my jacket loose and followed. Shelly mumbled and complained at my side. At the elevator Robeson suggested to the confused escorts that they make arrangements for the concert, that he and Einstein would be doing some rehearsal, and that they would be done in time for the festivities. We left them in the lobby and the five of us got on the elevator.

We stopped on the twenty-eighth floor and I checked the corridor. The hotel manager led the way to a room, opened the door with a smile, asked if there was anything we wanted, and departed. The room turned out to be a suite with a large room in the middle and a couple of bedrooms to the side. Einstein put down his violin case and Robeson looked at me. It was time for me to act.

“You’ll be okay here,” I said. “Shelly and I will take care of things and come back when it’s safe.”

Robeson’s smile had no humor in it. “Maybe I can be some help,” he said, as Einstein removed his violin from the case and stood tuning it. “My grandfather was a resourceful man who worked the underground railroad during the Civil War, helped smuggle slaves into free territory. My mother was part Indian. Aside from football and an occasional bigot, I’ve done little to test the possibility of my inherited resourcefulness.”

Shelly had drifted over to Einstein and was saying something to him while Robeson spoke to me. I thanked Robeson, told him that I thought things were under control and that I’d get back to him if it seemed we needed help. “Shelly and I have enough experience to see us through,” I explained.

Robeson looked at me and at Shelly. He was a good enough actor to hide his reaction but he wanted a little of his skepticism to show. After all, I was dealing with his and Einstein’s life.

“Trust me,” I said.

“I’ve heard that from too many people who’ve betrayed me,” he said with a sad smile.

“White people.”

“Mostly,” he agreed, “but not all. And all the white ones didn’t betray me either. I’ll give you some cautious trust.”

“I’ll take it,” I said, and walked over to rescue Einstein from Shelly the Minck.

“… be just your name,” Shelly was saying earnestly. “Rainbow teeth are the way of the future, signed Albert Einstein. It would be worth a hundred thousand in publicity.”

Einstein raised one eyebrow at Shelly, adjusted a string on his violin, and looked at me. I grabbed Shelly’s arm. “A minute more, Toby,” he whispered over his shoulder. “The professor and I are working out a professional arrangement here, between two men of science. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand, Shell. Let’s go.” He was dragged away, protesting in a whisper Robeson and Einstein would have heard even if they hadn’t been listening.

“I’ve almost got him convinced,” Shelly said. “Just a few more minutes, half a minute.”

“You weren’t convincing him, Shell.”

“Good luck,” said Robeson.

“Throw the bolt behind us,” I answered.

“I wasn’t con …” began Shelly. “Now you’re a scientist.” We were out in the hall by now, the door closed behind us. I paused till I heard the lock click, then hurried down the hall.

After cursing me down in the elevator to the lobby, Shelly went into a silent sulk as he followed me through crowds and clusters. It took me about five minutes to find the kid who looked like a lifeguard. I called him over, tipped him a buck, and gave him a name to call and a message to go along with that name.

“Stay with it,” I said. “It might be a few minutes, might be an hour. If nothing happens the first fifteen minutes, give it a rest and try again.”

“What’d you tell him?” Shelly asked, following me back to the elevators. “I’ve got a right to know.”

“The same message Carmichael had for me,” I said. “Let’s go.”

We went up to the thirty-second floor. I used the key and went in. Nothing much had changed, only the blood was a little drier, Carmichael a little paler.

“Has to be in here,” Shelly moaned, looking at the corpse.

“Has to be,” I agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“And I have to be here?” he said, pointing at himself in case I might not know who he was identifying as potential victim.

“No,” I said, smiling, “you can go.”

“I’m opening the window,” he answered. “It’s starting to smell like … I’m opening the window. Then I’m getting out. I’m your friend, Toby, you know that. But I think I’ll just go back down and talk to Einstein and …”

He had the window open when a knock came at the door.

“Fast,” I said.

Shelly looked around in anguish for another exit. There wasn’t one. “No, no, no,” he mumbled.

“Come in,” I said.

Shelly moved behind me as far from the door as he could, which brought him next to the open window. I had my .38 out now, aiming at the opening door. Standing in the doorway with another person behind him, the killer looked at us and at Carmichael, without trying to fake shock or surprise. “You want to see me?”

“I want to nail you,” I said behind my most lopsided grin, watching for a sudden move, a long knife.

“Do we have to stand in the doorway?” the killer said. “We might upset some of the guests.”

“Just stand there,” I said. “And answer a question or two.”

“Ask.”

“Toby,” Shelly groaned behind me. “I need the toilet.”

“Why did you kill Povey?”

“He would have ruined the concert, sent Einstein for cover. Even if he got Robeson and Einstein, it would have been the wrong time, the wrong place. Today, with the press here, that’s the time. That’s what we’re getting paid for. This has to be big. It’s got to strike terror into the Allies, make every American feel that they aren’t safe. It’s something new. Povey got a little too angry with you, made it too personal. And he was a professional.”

“Carmichael?” I asked, holding my gun level and aimed at the killer’s chest.

“Made a call and discovered …” the killer began.

“That you’re not FBI agents,” I concluded, as Shelly moaned massively behind me.

16

“You know what had me fooled?” I asked, wishing I could see more of Parker, who was partly covered by Craig.

“Everything,” said Craig. “We told you we were FBI. You believed it.”

“Enough already,” Parker said behind him. “We got a job. We’re not getting paid to explain mysteries.”

“How’s it going to hurt us?” Craig said, without turning his head to look down at his partner.

“Someone comes by in the hall and sees this, that’s how it’s going to hurt us,” said Parker. Parker adjusted his toupé in case someone did wander by.

“I called the FBI,” I said. “I left a message. You got the message.”

Craig was smiling, the phony smile of people with false teeth they’re afraid will come out. “There are two agents named Craig and Parker,” he explained, “both on assignment in South America. The FBI always answers the same way when their agents are on assignment. They won’t tell the caller where they are and just take messages. What could it hurt for you to call and leave a message? They won’t be back to get it for months. And when they did it wouldn’t make any sense to them. We didn’t know you called. You just figured we knew when you saw us, and we went along with you. Carmichael, however, did a little checking. And we went back to check on Carmichael, who acted a little too nervous, a little too Irish.”

“Come on,” Parker nagged behind him.

“You begrudge me a few moments of simple exposition?” Craig asked.

“Let the man expose if he wants to, for God’s sake,” whined Shelly behind me, clutching my sleeve.

“We followed Carmichael here,” said Craig.

“You weren’t as efficient this time,” I said. “He was still alive when we got to the room. He tried to tell us to call the FBI to check on you, but he couldn’t get it together.”

“But you figured it out,” said Craig with admiration. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Peters.”

“I don’t,” I said. “It took an Einstein.”

“No jokes, Toby, please, no jokes. Just shoot them or something and let’s get out of here.”

“Two more questions,” I said, “okay?”

“Shoot,” said Craig with a smile. “I’m not talking literally, of course.”