Xs, An Allie Armington Mystery (20 page)

Bill moves away, his blue eyes searching mine for a
moment before he speaks. “For what purpose?”

I shake my head, afraid to put it into words. Afraid
that if I did, the reality would be too much to bear. “They want
the jewels. They know I have them.”

“What do you mean by ‘they’?”

“Cliff isn’t in this alone. Larry Templeton and
Sigrid Hale are somehow involved. Greene’s picked up on a couple of
interesting phone conversations.”

Bill shakes his head. “I don’t like this.”

“I’m not too keen on it myself, but I have to be the
one to get in there. I don’t see any other way. At least none I can
think of.” He leans forward to take my hand in his and squeezes it
with each word. “You cannot. And I mean
cannot
go back
there.”

“But I’m the only one, don’t you see that? We’re so
close to exposing Hale.”

“The DEA will take care of Hale. Plans are
already—”

Bill’s martini arrives at the same moment his pager
beeps. He checks it, shakes his head and stands. “I have to take
this. It’s urgent. Wait here, will you?”

He disappears around the corner and, after a few
seconds, returns to lean down and touch my raised mouth with
his.

“Gotta go. Sorry.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be fine. Or I will be after I down
these.”

“I’m going only because I know you’ll be safe here
at the hotel. Please, Allie, promise you won’t do anything about
the townhouse until you hear from me.”

He takes a few steps toward the door, then
turns.

I shake off the first effects of the vodka to wave
the glass in his direction. “So, go.”

THE SOUND OF THE HOTEL MAID shoving the vacuum
cleaner against my door jolts me awake to squint at the digital
clock. Nine already. I’m in trouble. I drank all three martinis and
not only do I have one of my rare jackhammer headaches, but my back
is a mass of painful bruises. I crab through my morning routine
like a hundred-year-old woman with one ear cocked for Bill’s
promised call.

By ten, I give up waiting for the telephone to ring.
Still, that makes me twenty minutes late for the scheduled report
meeting at our chilly makeshift office.

When I give a halfhearted, “Sorry, took forever to
hail a cab,” and slide into my chair next to Mindy, she shoots me a
nervous glance, then shuffles through her papers until Greene
begins his report.

“No problem with the entry. Or with Danes’s suite.
But Jaime was right; the lock system on Hale’s door is something
I’ve never seen before. We took detailed photographs of the
apparatus and sent them to Quantico. If they can’t help us, we’ll
try the CIA lab next.”

Greene stares down at his hands. Jaime gazes at the
ceiling, and Mindy’s glare dares me not to say a word.

I ignore it. “What about the first floor?”

The detective looks up. “What about it?” “Were you
able to scope it out last night?”

Mindy slips her hands from the table into her
lap.

I look down to see them clenched together and slide
my hand over to give her a reassuring squeeze.

Greene’s voice brings me to attention. “Couldn’t get
to it. We can cover that later.”

“You don’t have to. I got in.”

The two men lurch forward at the same moment. Greene
says, “You did?”

“I know you said to stay out of this, but I
couldn’t. I was below the back porch when Jaime started down the
steps and you warned him about slipping on the ice.”

They look at each other then back at me, and Greene
says, “You couldn’t do it alone.” He looks at Mindy, who remains
focused on the papers in front of her.

“You’re right. Bill Cotton helped me.”

I feel Mindy’s eyes on me as Greene gives Jaime a
look, then says, “Are you saying he just happened by?”

“I guess. He said he was in the area and stopped in
the trailer. The guys told him where you were.”

The detective scribbles something on his yellow
legal pad and shoves it over for Jaime to read.

After Jaime leaves the room, Greene stands, puts a
cautionary finger to his lips and says, “I’m starved. How about
taking an early lunch at the Grill before we tackle that problem?
I’ll give Jaime a call and tell him to meet us there.”

————

We’ve all ordered when Jaime slides into the chair
next to Greene and shoves the yellow paper he took with him in
front of the detective.

I lean forward. “What’s with the notes, you guys? I
thought we were a team. If you have some information, Mindy and I
would appreciate your sharing it with us.”

Greene whistles that awful tuneless tune before he
says, “Sorry, Allie, I wanted Jaime to speak with the men in the
van before—” He looks at Jaime, then back at me. “I know you’re
involved with Bill—”

“It’s not good news,” Jaime says. “Neither of our
men spoke with Bill Cotton last night.”

My mouth drops. But how could Bill know what was up?
I snap my mouth shut and turn to Mindy. I can almost hear her
saying, “I told you so.”

Greene pulls out his notepad and begins writing.
“So, let’s start from where you’re at the back of the house.”

“I was able to raise the window in the bathroom just
enough to peek in. Then Bill showed up. He was able to push the
window open as far as it would go.”

“And he helped you in?”

“Not at first. He was against my going in alone
because he couldn’t cover me. But you know me, I bugged him until
he finally gave in.”

I tell Greene about the boarded windows and doors,
the new kitchen unit and the refurbished bath. Then I describe in
detail the walls covered with sheets and the king bed with the
wrought iron headboard.

But when I mention the newly opened stairway to the
upper floor, Greene turns to Jaime. “So, that’s where the door in
the kitchen leads.”

Jaime looks at me. “We got the door open, but there
was nothing but sheetrock. Guess they’re not done yet.”

Greene and I stare at each other for a few seconds
before he says, “What do you think the rooms are for?”

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

And it’s pretty plain Bill Cotton was playing me for
a fool. My mouth goes dry and I have to swallow a couple of times
before I get the next question out. “So how did Bill know you were
going into the townhouse?”

“He’s one of them—the wrong side—the people who have
our place bugged.” Greene says. “That’s the only way he could have
known about last night.”

When I shoot the detective a baleful look, he says,
“I’m sorry, Allie, nothing came from us.”

Greene looks around the restaurant dining area for
the second time in as many minutes. It’s still early so the place
is practically ours. Despite that, he leans in close, his chocolate
eyes searching mine. “Are you still willing to go along with
whatever these people have in store for you?”

I slap a large bandage of enthusiasm over the
quivering hole in my stomach. “Isn’t this what I—we’ve been waiting
for? We’re so close to getting Hale, we can’t stop now. What’s our
next move?” “We press.” Greene gets out his spiral notepad and
flips to the back, reads some scribble, then looks at me. “You told
me you had to be in Chicago for your sister’s wedding at Christmas,
right?” “Yes. That’s a must.”

Greene pockets his notebook. “Let’s see what happens
when you announce your departure. That’ll be the first item of
business when we get back to the office.”

AFTER FINISHING LUNCH, we step into the gray
December afternoon to head down York with Greene and Jaime in the
lead.

Mindy falls in step beside me, and mutters, “Thanks
for not involving me. I owe you a big one.”

I touch her sleeve. “I was hoping you’d say that.
Because I have a big one—a really big one, and I need your help.”
She gives me an inviting grin. “You got it.”

I take a few more strides before I unload. “I
possess some evidence that no one else knows I have. And by that, I
mean no one. It wasn’t my original intention to hold it back from
the investigation. Actually, that’s not quite true.” I let out a
long sigh. “At first this evidence didn’t seem terribly pertinent
to the case. Then time got away from me and not only was I too
embarrassed to own up that I had it, I’m an officer of the court
and I could be collared for obstruction.

“But now, I know this information is crucial. It
might even bring the Colombian cartel to its knees. Or, at worst,
screw up the drug shipments.”

Mindy hasn’t said a word, but she’s nodding and her
breath is coming in small, frosty puffs.

“Everybody has been looking for this evidence: the
DEA, Greene and especially the baddies. But that’s what’s so
strange: the shipments have continued. Either there’s a duplicate
of the info someplace else or—I don’t know—there’s a piece of the
puzzle that I’m missing.

“Anyway, I need someone besides me to know about
this. I believe that someone is you.”

“Oh, Allie, thank you so much for trusting me. I
promise I’ll guard the information with my life.”

I look down the street to see that Greene and Jaime
have already turned into the doorway to the office.

“It’s an address book.”

Mindy’s face is a total blank. Of course she
wouldn’t know. Greene didn’t find it. Jaime didn’t find it. And
she’s been onboard for only a few weeks.

“Carolina Montoya, my sister’s roommate, stole this
book. And someone murdered her because she did. Nobody could find
it—believe me they tried. Finally, I figured out where she hid it.
“This address book not only contains the names of prostitutes
operating at The Castle, but there are also several pages of code
names, followed by a string of numbers, that somehow deal directly
with the drug-trafficking operation out of Colombia. It’s my guess
the numbers are somehow associated with the bank accounts where
they stash the drug money.”

Mindy walks beside me in silence for a few steps.
“And what do you want me to do?”

“I’m not sure, but if for some reason I don’t—” I
pause only a second. “If I don’t get out of the townhouse, you have
to get to that book and somehow alter the numbers. That way, no one
will be able to do much with it. There are still too many people I
can’t quite peg. I mean, I’m sure Greene is clean, but—”

Mindy wrinkles her nose. “Not so sure about your
Mister Cotton. Did you ever read his file? Of course not. Too
afraid. But you might be surprised to find that he’s received
several honorable commendations from the DEA. And, I bet you didn’t
know he was once married. To a Julia Lee. They eloped. Only lasted
a couple of months.”

I’d love to strangle her right this minute because
she’s so right about my being afraid of what I would find. But I
have to bite my tongue to keep from blurting that I know about the
marriage. Then I remember Bill didn’t tell me about that either.
The information came from his best friend.

Instead I say, “The address book is in my
safe-deposit box at the Chase Manhattan on Eighty-Sixth. Number
fifteen forty-two.”

“That’s great, but how do you expect me to get at
it?” “There are ways. I’ll tell you how, if it ever comes to
that.”

IT’S BEEN SIXTEEN HOURS since we returned from lunch
to the safe house above the deli.

I announced the date of my departure to Greene,
Platón and Cha. As planned, all three voiced their disappointment
and begged me to stay on. But I stood firm, saying I had done
everything I could to find Caro’s murderer, and all my leads had
dried up.

After spending a fitful night, Greene knocks on my
door at a little past seven. His first news is that the rooms over
the deli have been swept for bugs. Two were found—one in each room.
But he plans to make daily checks.

Two pots of coffee and several caraway bagels later
the phone next to my bed rings.

“Good morning, Angela.” Cliff ’s oily voice oozes
through the receiver. “I remember your saying that you were staying
at the Wells. I was hoping you were still in the city.”

I look at Greene, give him a thumbs-up and he slides
the receiver from the desk phone cradle to his ear.

“Why, Cliff, this certainly is a surprise.”

“Yes, I suppose it is. I haven’t called too early,
have I?” “Not at all. In fact, I was just going out for a jog.”

“Then I’m glad I caught you.” He lowers his voice.
“We had our Christmas Bash Monday night. Too bad you weren’t there.
You would have enjoyed the festivities.”

“I’m sorry, too. What can I do for you?”

“You said you wanted to meet Mother. Are you still
interested?”

I go hot and cold at the same time and try to keep
the shakes out of my voice.

“Mmmm, I might not have the time. As you know, my
sister is getting married in a couple of weeks. I’m planning to go
back to Houston for a few days, then onto Chicago for the wedding.”
The silence on Cliff ’s end seems to last an eon, but I can do
nothing but wait.

“Uh, I was really hoping you could give us a few
minutes. We’ve acquired a third line drawing by that French artist
you admired. It’s really quite intriguing. I thought you might want
to see it.”

Greene shakes his head and mouths, “Stall.”

“Gosh, Cliff, I have so many things to tie up before
I get away.” I slowly count to three. “Sorry for the delay; I’m
checking my calendar.” Again I drag the seconds out. “No. No. How
about a rain check? I’ll give you a ring the next time I’m in the
city.” “Pity.” He rushes on. “I wanted to surprise you, but I guess
I’ll have to let the cat out. Thing is, Angela, the woman in this
drawing looks exactly like you.”

I decide to jiggle the bait just a little. “Really?
Exactly like me? That’s intriguing.”

Cliff bites. “You really do have to see this. Did
you say you were leaving today?”

I glance at Greene who shakes his head. “No. I’m not
leaving until—”