Swan Dive - Jeremiah Healy (10 page)

“
Yeah, only she didn’t order nothing from room
service. Shot, she was. Near naked."

"Dissatisfied customer?"

"We don’t think so. Bellhop tells us Marsh was
one of her regulars. Saw him coming in that night with a suitcase."

"Suitcase?"

"Uh-huh."

“
Was Marsh done with the same gun?"

"No, he wasn’t shot. He took a swan dive from
the window."

“
Didn’t strike me as the suicide type."

"You tell us."

"Lieutenant, I wasn’t there, all right? Any
marks on him?"

Guinness laughed. "You kidding? The guy went
through the glass on the twelfth floor. Somebody hits the ground from
that high, if it wasn’t wearing clothes, you wouldn’t know it was
human."

Holt said, "Except it wasn’t."

"I don’t get you."

"Marsh. He wasn’t wearing clothes. Just
bandages on his feet, briefs, and a pair of those latex stretch
gloves.".

"Lovely."

"Yeah. We figure him and the Angel were doing
beautiful things together when somebody interrupted them."

I said, "Look, Marsh came on like a piece of
shit, but I wasn’t about to kill him."

"Your gun, Cuddy."

"What?"

Guinness said, "Was your gun did the Angel."

"How do you know?"

"Registration number, you stupid shit. Computer
matched you right off."

"You mean you found the gun at the scene?"

“
On the floor, by the window. But we didn’t find
Marsh’s clothes."

"His clothes."

"That’s right. No clothes, his or the Angel’s.
And no suitcase."

I thought for a minute. "If` he didn’t have
any clothes, how’d you ID him?"

Guinness said, "Thought you might wonder about
that."

I turned back to Holt. "Lieutenant?"

"We found his wallet. On the floor in the
closet, like maybe it fell out of his pants when they were hanging
up."

"Before his pants pulled the disappearing act."

“
Yeah."

Guinness said, “We also didn’t find his stuff."

"What stuff?"

Holt said, "His cocaine stuff."

"That’s where I come in," said Dawkins,
speaking for only the second time. "Homicide here like to know
why you killed Marsh and the fox. Me, I’d like to know what you did
with a quarter-million street value of J. J. Braxley’s snow."

I put my head down, taking a couple of deep breaths.
"Somebody set me up."

Guinness said, "Sure they did."

"Think about it, will you? I get knocked out,
they take my gun, kill Angel here and Marsh, and leave the weapon
there to link me with a guy I already didn’t like."

Holt said, "Or you fake the hit on the head,
toss Marsh through the window, and lose the Angel as a witness."

“
And leave my righteous gun at the scene?"

Holt and Guinness exchanged glances, Dawkins kept his
eyes on me.

Holt said, "You don’t have a righteous gun
anymore, my friend."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you didn’t report the loss of your
gun like you were supposed to, and the commissioner has pulled your
license to carry."

“
Just like that."

"The statute says he can do it ‘for cause’
and ‘at his will’."

"I told you why I didn’t report it."

"The statute also says ‘forthwith.' You lose
it or get it stolen, you’re supposed to report it ‘forthwith,'
not when you fucken get around to it."

Guinness said, "That means we catch you with a
piece, you’re gone for a year, pal. No deal, no parole, no way
0ut."

I said, "Your theory is I do those things with a
registered weapon instead of a throwaway, then leave the registered
piece on the floor somewhere?"

Guinness said, "You got surprised, and—"

"I had a date scheduled with Nancy Meagher last
night."

Holt said, "The assistant D.A.?"

"That’s right. Because of getting hit, I stood
her up. Tried to call her but never got through."

"You try to call her, but you’re too punchy to
report the gun, is that it?"

"That’s it."

"So?"

"So your theory is I plan to ace Marsh, and do
this Angel in the bargain, leave my traceable gun at the scene, then
don’t show up for a date with an assistant D.A. and don’t even
warn her."

"You panicked. Didn’t think it through till
this morning? '

I jerked my head toward the door and immediately
regretted it. Massaging behind my ear, I said, "And what about
the little show-up outside there?"

"What show-up?"

"The two pensioners on the bench. The ones you
brought in from the Barry. They live there or what?"

No response.

I said, "Either way, Lieutenant, they didn’t
make me, did they? You had a little talk after Guinness al waltzed me
past them, and neither one ever saw me before."

Guinness picked at his teeth. Holt and Dawkins just
watched me.

"C’mon, Lieutenant. Somebody set me up,
somebody who wanted Marsh dead."

Dawkins said, "Or the Angel."

Holt said to him, "The Angel?"

Dawkins said, "Yeah.
Somebody wants the Angel dead, he just have to appreciate how Cuddy
here have it in for Marsh." Dawkins treated me to a sugary
smile. " ’Course, I’d still like to know where J.J.’s
stuff got to, and so will he."

* * *

Holt let me go, warning me to stay available and not
to call Nancy until they had checked my story with her. I went up the
hall and by the corner to Murphy’s office. Nobody I recognized was
around, so I walked up to his door and knocked.

"Yeah."

I entered, closing the door behind me.

Murphy looked up from a file he was reading. "Get
out."

"Lieutenant, I wanted to thank you."

"I’m not supposed to be talking with you."

"You must have told Holt I wouldn’t have done
Marsh that stupidly. Otherwise, with what he had on my gun, he would
have held me awhile."

"Cuddy, I will not talk with you about another
squad’s case. Now get out."

"This mean I can’t get a look at the jacket on
this?"

Murphy snapped the folder closed and came up out of
his chair, shoulders hunched. "You fucking asshole! You did me a
favor, fine, I do you one. Ask around on this guy Marsh. But then the
guy turns up dead, and it smells so much like you I’m afraid to
shit. Things develop, it does look too stupid for you, but how am I
supposed to explain that to Holt, huh? Am I supposed to say, ‘Nah,
couldn’t have been Cuddy, man. I seen Cuddy set up a killing, even
covered him on it, and it was nothing like this’?"

"Lieutenant, I promised you something that time.
I promised you I’d never do anything like that in your
jurisdiction. Believe me, I didn’t."

Murphy sank back down in his chair and reopened the
file, trying to find his place."‘Get out. I’m not gonna say
it again."
 

TEN
-♦-

I hiked home to clear my head. Once there, I called
Nancy’s office, but the secretary said she was in court. I asked if
Detective Guinness was there, and the secretary said, yes, would I
like to speak with him? I told her no thanks and said I’d try again
later.

Chris answered on the second ring.

"Chris, this is John Cuddy. I have to see you."

"Jeez, John, the cops already called me. l heard
about Marsh on the late news."

"Can we talk if I get there in the next hour?"

"Oh, John, I’m up to my ears . . ."

"I’ll be there by noontime, Chris. Don’t go
anywhere I can’t find you." I hung up, cleaned up, and went
down to the car.
* * *

I pushed open the door to Chris’s waiting room.
Sitting in one of the plastic chairs was a man with black wavy hair
and a dark complexion. He wore a crudely cut suit with a
narrow-collared white shirt and no tie. He watched me, collapsing a
tissue-thin, crinkly newspaper with headlines in what looked like the
Greek alphabet. As he was about to say something, Chris stuck his
head out from the office.

"C’mon in, John. I hope this won’t take too
long. I’m really up to my—"

"It won’t take
long." I followed Chris into his office as the man in the chair
followed me with his eyes.

* * *

“
His name’s Fotis. Eleni’s cousin."

"He doesn’t look too good for business,
glaring in your reception area like that."

"What can I do, John? She’s really rattled by
this i Marsh thing, not that I blame her. I’m in and out a lot, I
so she feels safer with Fotis and Nikos here for a while."

"Nikos another cousin?"

"Right. He’s with Eleni. In the kitchen."

I didn’t respond, so Chris said, "So, what can
I do for you?"

I settled back in my chair. "You can explain why
you didn’t let on that Marsh was into the drug trade when you hired
me."

Chris moved his tongue around against the inside of
his cheek. "John, I didn’t have any proof of that. Just the
wife’s say-so, for chrissake. I might have tried to use it if
things went bad at the settlement conference, but the way we were
going . . ."

"Chris, you asked me to bodyguard because you
were afraid of the guy. It might have been nice for you to warn me
about what you suspected instead of giving me that 'insurance
salesman’ line."

"John, I’m telling you, I didn’t know for
sure. Christ, you’d think I’d been a customer of his or
something."

"Were you?"

"Oh, John, c’mon .

"Look, Chris, somebody set me up, understand?
Somebody who knew enough about Marsh, and me, to see me as a good
patsy. Now that isn’t a whole lot of people."

"What do you mean, set up?"

I explained about the mugging and the cops’ visit
to my door. When I got to the gun, Chris said, "Holy shit."

“
Now do you see what I mean?"

Chris kneaded his hands. "Jeez, John, I’m
sorry. When the cops called, they didn’t say anything about the
gun." He looked away. "So somebody hits you and then plants
your gun in the room. God in heaven."

"Chris, who knew about my blowup with Marsh at
Felicia Arnold’s office?"

"Aw, I don’t know. Felicia, Hanna. I told
Eleni a little bit about it."

“
What about that guy in Arnold’s office?"

“
What guy?"'

"I think his name was Paul Troller."

"Oh, he’s . . . Look, I don’t know him too
well, you understand? But he isn’t the first young stud lawyer
Felicia’s hired, if you get my drift."

"Any reason he’d have for doing Marsh?"

"Jeez, John, how would I know? Wait a minute.
When did you say you got mugged?"

“
Maybe five-fifteen, give or take a couple of
minutes."

Chris shook his head. "No, that lets Troller
out."

"Why?"

"The county bar association dinner was last
night over in Salem, and they always, do a cocktail thing beforehand.
Troller was on line, a couple people in front of me, ordering a
drink."

"And what time was this?"

"No later than five-thirty. I remember thinking
that if the bartender didn’t speed things up, I’d never get
another round in before dinner."

"What about Felicia?"

"Didn’t see her. But I talked with her this
morning, and I can’t see how she could have anything to do with
it."

"What did you talk about?"

"What do you think? Marsh’s dying kinda
screwed things up for me, you know."

"I don’t follow."

Chris spread his hands on the desk. "Couple
decides to get divorced, even if the papers are filed and everything,
it isn’t effective till it’s final."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning Marsh’s dying like that ends the
divorce action."

"The law makes sense after all."

“
You’re not getting it. Hanna doesn’t need me
anymore."

"What about the settlement?"

"It’s off. She doesn’t need it now."

“
Why not'?"

Chris made a face. "Because she gets everything
anyway. Felicia told me this morning Marsh was too fucking cheap to
make a will, like to try to disinherit her. You can’t really do
that in this state, and some of it is gonna have to go into the kid’s
name, but basically everything goes to Hanna like she and Marsh were
still lovey-dovey."