Two Jakes (34 page)

CHAPTER
43 – EPTATRETUS STOUTI

“What
the hell was it?”

Scarne
had been both fascinated and horrified by the story the homicide detective told
him. He took out the pack of cigarettes and walked over to the bookshelf in the
corner nearest him. There was a small ashtray on the top shelf. He put it on
the table and then offered the pack around.

Valledolmo
said, “Isn’t that illegal in this city?”

“A
local law. Another jurisdictional problem for you boys.”

“Screw
that,” Sealth said, looking at the pack like it was a life preserver. “Gimme
one of those. Every time I think of that slimy thing, I need a smoke.”

After
lighting up, Scarne threw him the pack and the lighter and slid the ashtray
between them. Sealth greedily pulled a cigarette, lit it and took a deep drag.
The two Feds looked at each other but didn’t say anything. Scarne assumed they
started each day with a run around Manhattan.

“It
was a hagfish,” Sealth said. “
Eptatretus stouti
, the scientists call
it,” Sealth said, smoke hissing between his teeth. “I’d never heard of it in
Latin or in English. But after it popped out of Maria Brutti I became the
department expert on the fuckers. They’re like eels, but without the
personality. You heard of lampreys, those things that killed all the trout and
salmon in the Great Lakes? Attach themselves to the outside of a fish and suck
out blood and other fluids. Leave terrible circular scars on what they don’t
kill. Kissin’ cousins of the hagfish, but much more lovable. Everybody I talked
to about hagfish looked like they wanted to throw up. Did you know they have
five hearts, no eyes and no stomach? They work from the inside, slithering into
dead fish and sea mammals on the ocean floor and then eat their way out. They
can pump out a quart of slime in less than a minute.”

Sealth
took a long drag.

“They’re
a big delicacy in North Korea, which is all you have to know about North Korea.
Fisherman run into them every now and then when they pull up their nets. And
there have been rare cases of them being found in human corpses pulled from
deep water after a ship or sub goes down. But we had the first recorded case of
a hagfish found in a dead Mafia princess. I think it’ll probably stand for a
long time.”

“Why
was it still alive?” Scarne dreaded asking the next question. “And how did it
get in her?”

“Probably
by accident. Maria Brutti was killed only a couple of hours before the viewing
at the morgue. Ice pick through her pump. Then she was covered by hundreds of
iced fresh fish leaking seawater. I spoke to a guy at the Seattle aquarium. He
said hagfish can live quite some time inside a dead body before running out of
nutrients and oxygen. Said human blood is a lot like seawater. This one did
quite a bit of damage to her internal organs. Probably thrashed around looking
for a way out. It didn’t come out the way it went in.”

“My
God,” Scarne said. His jelly donut didn’t look quite so appetizing. “Her
brother must have gone crazy seeing that.”

“We
all went a little nuts. It took my partner and three lab techs to control
Brutti. Dispatch got so many calls they sent a S.W.A.T. team for Crissakes!
Somebody had seen
Alien
once too often. Although I got to admit the
thought did cross my mind. Brutti went completely off the reservation. Nobody,
and I mean nobody, fucked with Carlo Brutti, inside or outside the family. He
was not just muscle. He was sharp enough to realize that his family was facing
a lot of competition from the Hispanics, Russians and even the Viets. Because
of him, the Eye-tals made some shrewd deals. Some of the other crime kings
value them for their financial expertise. There is a lot of revenue sharing.”

“That
fits with what we heard,” Valledolmo said. “A confidential informant told us
Victor Ballantrae became the banker for the Ukrainians based on a
recommendation from the Bruttis. Carlo may even have handled the transfer of
hot funds out of the country.”

Sealth
automatically reached for his coffee cup, which had been empty for some time.
Scarne went to get the pot but the cop waived him off.

“Forget
it. I don’t need anymore caffeine. I’ve had about 20 cups since midnight. I’d
probably have a cardiac.” He grabbed another cigarette instead. “Brutti loved
his sister, who by all accounts was a nice lady. He wasn’t married; she was
always trying to fix him up. They were very close. When that damn fish came out
of the girl, he went right after the Ukrainians.”

“I
thought they were in business together. Why would he assume they killed his
sister?”

“The
body was found in a building owned by Andriy Boyko, the Uke warlord,” Casey
said. “The relationship between Brutti and the Ukrainians had been going sour.
Our C.I. told us that for some reason the Ukes couldn’t access their funds in
Ballantrae’s bank. He kept stalling them. They apparently suspected that Carlo
double-crossed them. Boyko went to old man Brutti about it and that pissed
Carlo off. He prided himself in always keeping his word. In fact, in his
circles he did have a reputation as a straight shooter, or straight-stabber, if
you will. He lost his temper at a meet and told Boyko to go fuck himself. Boyko
took umbrage.”

“Still,
you don’t go after family.”

“You’ve
seen
The Godfather
too many times,” Sealth said. “We’re talking
Ukrainians here. But, you’re right. I can’t see Boyko stepping over that line.
Not to mention keeping a body in a fish cooler in his warehouse. He’s actually
become a real businessman.”

Valledolmo
slid another photo over to Scarne.

“When
he has to, Andriy can dress up. Favors three-piece suits. Looks like he could
fit in at a bank board meeting, don’t he?”

Another
shot taken outside a courthouse.

“Don’t
you read the papers,” Sealth said. “He’d fit in perfectly at a bank board
meeting. They’re fucking thieves.”

“Brutti
wasn’t thinking straight after the morgue fiasco,” Valledolmo said. “He went
right after Boyko. Sliced and diced one of his lieutenants in the warehouse
where Brutti’s sister was found. That’s when he probably found out that Boyko
didn’t kill her.”

“How?”

Valledolmo
sighed.

“Would
you believe the Boyko lieutenant Brutti killed was our informant! Took us years
to get him that high in the organization. He’d told us Boyko had nothing to do
with Maria Brutti’s murder and he undoubtedly also told Carlo.”

“I
don’t want to burst your Federal bubble,” Sealth said, “but your man’s days
were probably numbered anyway. When I spoke to Boyko I got the distinct
impression he wasn’t too devastated by the guy’s death. I think he wondered
what he was doing in the warehouse to begin with.”

“There
a huge difference between having your days numbered and having the M.E.
numbering your body parts,” Casey noted. “The poor bastard was probably
snooping through Boyko’s office when Carlo found him.”

Valledolmo
slid another photo over to Scarne. It was a crime scene shot of what was
probably a body on a table. It was hard to tell. It could have been a salmon
spread at a buffet.

“Not
much you wouldn’t say when you’re being turned into laboratory slides. Our
informant would have also told him that Garza was in town.”

“Garza
killed the sister,” Scarne said, without hesitation

“Yeah,
that’s what we think,” Casey said. “Both sides knew him. In addition to his
other duties, he was the go-between and bagman for Ballantrae and knew his way
around both operations. He’d even been to the warehouse before. Our C.I. said
he showed up unexpectedly and acted like he wanted to mediate the dispute
between the two mobs but we think he was really sent out to start a war between
them, maybe to buy time for Ballantrae. We figure that when Brutti found out
Boyko didn’t kill his sister, he put two and two together. He headed East to
settle scores.”

“Then
it was Brutti who was the sniper at the pool,” Scarne said. “He was after
Garza.”

“He
was probably after anyone he could get,” Casey said. “After missing his chance
in Miami, he must have tailed you and Loeb to Antigua. He wasn’t thinking
straight. Making it up as he went along. Didn’t even have time to arrange for a
gun in Antigua. Lucky for you and Loeb.”

“Listen,
Jake, I think you’ll agree we’ve been forthcoming with you,” Valledolmo said,
pulling out a notebook. “We did check you out. Your friend the Commissioner
said we could level with you, and we have. Now we need your help. Our informant
is dead, Brutti is dead. The West Coast families have clammed up. Ballantrae’s
offshore assets are well hidden behind a phalanx of lawyers and some
bought-and-paid-for American Senators and Congressmen. What can you tell us?”

***

For
the next hour, Scarne told them about the initial contact by Sheldon Shields
and the blond-haired man in the church in New York. (The three cops looked at
each other, and Casey mouthed “Keitel.”) He told them about the Miami M.E.’s
suspicions about the death of Josh Shields and his talk with the editor of
Josh’s paper in Miami. He told them about Josh’s relationship with the intern
at
Offshore Confidential
and their shared suspicions.

“I
went to one of Sink’s conferences,” Valledolmo said.

He again
went over the pool shooting and the trip to Antigua, and the fight with Brutti.
He told them about the cloning of his cell phone. His burgled apartment. When
he told them about the death of Sheldon Shields in the subway, they just stared
at him.

“Keitel
was in New York when Sheldon died,” Scarne said.

“Son
of a bitch,” Sealth said. “Father and son. Whatever happened to just shooting
people?”

“Goetz
was shot,” Valledolmo pointed out.

“And
Brutti was strangled,” Casey rejoined, shrugging apologetically to Scarne. “But
they could be the proverbial ‘innocent bystanders.’ I bet that’s a designation
Carlo never expected to earn. Where does your gir—I mean, the Loeb woman, fit
in all of this?”

Scarne
hesitated. But there was no getting around it. Alana was no fool. Or an
“innocent bystander.” He took a deep breath.

“She
has to be aware of his activities. At the very least she knows he stretches the
laws in every country he operates. She might even do the stretching. But a
killer? It just doesn’t fit with what I know of her.”

“When
are you seeing her again,” Sealth said.

“Look,
I’m off the case. I don’t have a client anymore. You guys take it from here. I
have to earn a living.”

The
other three men exchanged glances.

“Haven’t
you fucked up enough?” Valledolmo said.

***

As
they walked out of the room, Sealth stopped and turned to Scarne.

“Sorry
I gave you such a push early on,” he said quietly.

“Dickwad?”

“The
jury’s still out on that, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Maria
Brutti’s murder jerked my chain. You can’t feel too good about screwing up
either.”

When
Scarne said nothing, the detective went on.

“Be
careful with the Loeb woman. She’s a player. But even if she isn’t, there are a
lot of dead bodies piling up in this case, or whatever the fuck it is.”

“When
do you go back to the left coast?”

“Tomorrow.
I got as much from these guys and you as I need. Nothing I can do here and my
chief ain’t gonna send me traipsing around Florida or the Caribbean. My partner
is pissed enough at me that I got to make this trip on seniority. I should have
told him to go. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep or a decent meal since I
got here.”

“Are
you free for dinner tonight? I can get us a good table at Sparks.”

Sealth
recognized the invitation for what it was. Quid pro quo time.

“That’s
the steak joint where Gotti set up the hit on Big Paulie Castellano.”

“Don’t
worry. I have a rib-eye in mind, not a rub out.”

“It
ain’t that. I’ve got a hankering for a good French meal.”

Scarne
grinned.

“Jean
Georges? Eight o’clock?”

“Jean
Georges will be just dandy.”

As
they got to the door, Sealth stopped.

“I
was looking at your map. I know it ain’t politically correct, but I think the
Belgian Congo had a sexier ring to it, don’t you?”

***

Scarne
closed the door in his office. He stared at the photo of his grandfather, taken
when he was about the same age as Scarne was now. He thought of all the man had
accomplished after being defeated and imprisoned in a strange country. What
would he say to his grandson about this fiasco? He was sure his grandfather
would tell him to set it all right, no matter what it took. There was light
tapping on his door and Evelyn stuck her head in. She was carrying her pad.

“Jake,
I’m sure you will figure a way out of this.”