jg.thefirm-第57节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


pose　Hodge　and　Kozinski　fed　them　enough　to　confirm　the　identity　of　this　particular　client。　See　where　I'm　going？　And　let's　suppose　the　Fibbies　have　told　McDeere　all　they　know；　along　with　a　certain　amount　of　embellishment。　Suddenly；　your　ignorant　rookie　recruit　is　a　very　smart　man。　And　a　very　dangerous　one。〃
　　〃How　do　you　prove　this？〃
　　〃We　step　up　surveillance；　for　starters。　Put　his　wife　under　twenty…four…hour　watch。　I've　already　called　Lazarov　and　requested　more　men。　Told　him　we　needed　some　fresh　faces。　I'm　going　to　Chicago　tomorrow　to　brief　Lazarov；　and　maybe　Mr。　Morolto。　Lazarov　thinks　Morolto　has　a　lead　on　a　mole　within　the　Bureau；　some　guy　who's　close　to　Voyles　and　will　sell　information。　But　it's　expensive；　supposedly。　They　wanna　assess　things　and　decide　where　to　go。〃
　　〃And　you'll　tell　them　McDeere's　talking？〃　asked　Locke。
　　〃I'll　tell　them　what　I　know　and　what　I　suspect。　I'm　afraid　that　if　we　sit　back　and　wait　for　concrete；　it　might　be　too　late。　I'm　sure　Lazarov　will　wanna　discuss　plans　to　eliminate　him。〃
　　〃Preliminary　plans？〃　Ollie　asked；　with　a　touch　of　hope。
　　〃We've　passed　the　preliminary　stage；　Ollie。〃
　　The　Hourglass　Tavern　in　New　York　City　faces　Forty…sixth　Street；　near　its　corner　with　Ninth　Avenue。　A　small；　dark　hole…in…the…wall　with　twenty…two　seats；　it　grew　to　fame　with　its　expensive　menu　and　fifty…nine…minute　time　limit　on　each　meal。　On　the　walls　not　far　above　the　tables；　hourglasses　with　white　sand　silently　collect　the　seconds　and　minutes　until　the　tavern's　timekeeper…the　waitress…finally　makes　her　calculations　and　calls　time。　Frequented　by　the　Broadway　crowd；　it　is　usually　packed；　with　loyal　fans　waiting　on　the　sidewalk。　Lou　Lazarov　liked　the　Hourglass　because　it　was　dark　and　private　conversations　were　possible。　Short　conversations；　under　fifty…nine　minutes。　He　liked　it　because　it　was　not　in　Little　Italy；　and　he　was　not　Italian；　and　although　he　was　owned　by　Sicilians；　he　did　not　have　to　eat　their　food。　He　liked　it　because　he　was　born　and　spent　the　first　forty　years　of　his　life　in　the　theater　district。　Then　corporate　headquarters　was　moved　to　Chicago；　and　he　was　transferred。　But　business　required　his　presence　in　New　York　at　least　twice　a　week；　and　when　the　business　included　meeting　a　member　of　equal　stature　from　another　family；　Lazarov　always　suggested　the　Hourglass。　Tubertini　had　equal　stature；　and　a　little　extra。　Reluctantly；　he　agreed　on　the　Hourglass。
　　Lazarov　arrived　first　and　did　not　wait　for　a　table。　He　knew　from　experience　the　crowd　thinned　around　4　P。M。；　especially　on　Thursdays。　He　ordered　a　glass　of　red　wine。　The　waitress　tipped　the　hourglass　above　his　head；　and　the　race　was　on。　He　sat　at　a　front　table；　facing　the　street；　his　back　to　the　other　tables。　He　was　a　heavy　man　of　fifty…eight；　with　a　thick　chest　and　ponderous　belly。　He　leaned　hard　on　the　red…checkered　tablecloth　and　watched　the　traffic　on　Forty…sixth。
　　Thankfully；　Tubertini　was　prompt。　Less　than　a　fourth　of　the　white　sand　was　wasted　on　him。　They　shook　hands　politely；　while　Tubertini　scornfully　surveyed　the　tiny　sliver　of　a　restaurant。　He　flashed　a　plastic　smile　at　Lazarov　and　glared　at　his　seat　in　the　window。　His　back　would　face　the　street；　and　this　was　extremely　irritating。　And　dangerous。　But　his　car　was　just　outside　with　two　of　his　men。　He　decided　to　be　polite。　He　deftly　maneuvered　around　the　tiny　table　and　sat　down。
　　Tubertini　was　polished。　He　was　thirty…seven；　the　son…in…law　of　old　man　Palumbo　himself。　Family。　Married　his　only　daughter。　He　was　beautifully　thin　and　tanned　with　his　short　black　hair　oiled　to　perfection　and　slicked　back。　He　ordered　red　wine。
　　〃How's　my　pal　Joey　Morolto？〃　he　asked　with　a　perfect　brilliant　smile。
　　〃Fine。　And　Mr。　Palumbo？〃
　　〃Very　ill；　and　very　ill…tempered。　As　usual。〃

　　〃Please　give　him　my　regards。〃
　　〃Certainly。〃
　　The　waitress　approached　and　looked　menacingly　at　the　timepiece。　〃Just　wine；〃　said　Tubertini。　〃I　won't　be　eating。〃
　　Lazarov　looked　at　the　menu　and　handed　it　to　her。　〃Sauteed　blackfish；　with　another　glass　of　wine。〃
　　Tubertini　glanced　at　his　men　in　the　car。　They　appeared　to　be　napping。　〃So；　what's　wrong　in　Chicago？〃
　　〃Nothing's　wrong。　We　just　need　a　little　information；　that's　all。　We've　heard；　unconfirmed　of　course；　that　you　have　a　very　reliable　man　somewhere　deep　in　the　Bureau；　somewhere　close　to　Voyles。〃
　　〃And　if　we　do？〃
　　〃We　need　some　information　from　this　man。　We　have　a　small　unit　in　Memphis；　and　the　Fibbies　are　trying　like　hell　to　infiltrate。　We　suspect　one　of　our　employees　may　be　working　with　them；　but　we　can't　seem　to　catch　him。〃
　　〃And　if　you　caught　him？〃
　　〃We'd　slice　out　his　liver　and　feed　it　to　the　rats。〃
　　〃Serious；　huh？〃
　　〃Extremely　serious。　Something　tells　me　the　feds　have　targeted　our　little　unit　down　there；　and　we've　grown　quite　nervous。〃
　　〃Let's　say　his　name　is　Alfred；　and　let's　say　he's　very　close　to　Voyles。〃
　　〃Okay。　We　need　a　very　simple　answer　from　Alfred。　We　need　to　know；　yes　or　no；　if　our　employee　is　working　with　the　Fibbies。〃
　　Tubertini　watched　Lazarov　and　sipped　his　wine。　〃Alfred　specializes　in　simple　answers。　He　prefers　the　yes　and　no　variety。　We've　used　him　twice；　only　when　it's　critical；　and　both　times　it　was　a　question　of　'Are　the　feds　ing　here　or　there？'　He's　extremely　cautious。　I　don't　think　he　would　provide　too　many　details。〃
　　〃Is　he　accurate？〃
　　〃Deadly　accurate。〃
　　〃Then　he　should　be　able　to　help　us。　If　the　answer　is　yes；　we　move　accordingly。　If　no；　the　employee　is　off　the　hook　and　it's　business　as　usual。〃
　　〃Alfred's　very　expensive。〃
　　〃I　was　afraid　so。　How　much？〃
　　〃Well；　he　has　sixteen　years　with　the　Bureau　and　is　a　career　man。　That's　why　he's　so　cautious。　He　has　much　to　lose。〃
　　〃How　much？〃
　　〃Half　a　million。〃
　　〃Damn！〃
　　〃Of　course；　we　have　to　make　a　small　profit　on　the　transaction。　After　all；　Alfred　is　ours。〃
　　〃A　small　profit？〃
　　〃Quite　small；　really。　Most　of　it　goes　to　Alfred。　He　talks　to　Voyles　daily；　you　know。　His　office　is　two　doors　down。〃
　　〃All　right。　We'll　pay。〃
　　Tubertini　flashed　a　conquering　smile　and　tasted　his　wine。　〃I　think　you　lied；　Mr。　Lazarov。　You　said　it　was　a　small　unit　in　Memphis。　That's　not　true；　is　it？〃
　　〃No。〃
　　〃What's　the　name　of　this　unit？〃
　　〃The　Bendini　firm。〃
　　〃Old　man　Morolto's　daughter　married　a　Bendini。〃
　　〃That's　it。〃
　　〃What's　the　employee's　name？〃
　　〃Mitchell　McDeere。〃
　　〃It　might　take　two　or　three　weeks。　Meeting　with　Alfred　is　a　major　production。〃
　　〃Yes。　Just　be　quick　about　it。〃
　　　
　　　27
　　IT　was　highly　unusual　for　wives　to　appear　at　the　quiet　little　fortress　on　Front　Street。　They　were　certainly　wele；　they　were　told；　but　seldom　invited。　So　Abby　McDeere　arrived　through　the　front　door；　into　the　reception　area　uninvited　and　unannounced。　It　was　imperative　that　she　see　her　husband；　she　insisted。　The　receptionist　phoned　Nina　on　the　second　floor；　and　within　seconds　she　appeared　in　a　rush　and　warmly　greeted　her　boss's　wife。　Mitch　was　in　a　meeting；　she　explained。　He's　always　in　a　damned　meeting；　Abby　replied。　Get　him　out！　They　rushed　to　his　office；　where　Abby　closed　the　door　and　waited。
　　Mitch　was　observing　another　one　of　Avery's　chaotic　departures。　Secretaries　bumped　into　each　other　and　packed　briefcases　while　Avery　yelled　into　the　phone。　Mitch　sat　on　the　sofa　with　a　legal　pad　and　watched。　His　partner　was　scheduled　for　two　days　on　Grand　Cayman。　April　15　loomed　on　the　calendar　like　a　date　with　a　firing　squad；　and　the　banks　down　there　had　certain　records　that　had　bee　critical。　It　was　all　work；　Avery　insisted。　He　talked　about　the　trip　for　five　days；　dreading　it；　cursing　it；　but　finding　it　pletely　unavoidable。　He　would　take　the　Lear；　and　it　was　now　waiting；　said　a　secretary。
　　Probably　waiting　with　a　load　of　cash；　thought　Mitch。
　　Avery　slammed　the　phone　down　and　grabbed　his　coat。
　　Nina　walked　through　the　door　and　glared　at　Mitch。　〃Mr。　McDeere；　your　wife　is　here。　She　says　it's　an　emergency。〃
　　The　chaos　became　silent。　He　looked　blankly　at　Avery。　The　secretaries　froze。　〃What　is　it？〃　he　asked；　standing。
　　〃She's　in　your　office；〃　Nina　said。
　　〃Mitch；　I've　gotta　go；〃　Avery　said。　〃I'll　call　you　tomorrow。　I　hope　things　are　okay。〃
　　〃Sure。〃　He　followed　Nina　down　the　hall；　saying　nothing；　to　his　office。　Abby　sat　on　his　desk。　He　closed　and　locked　the　door。　He　watched　her　carefully。
　　〃Mitch；　I　have　to　go　home。〃
　　〃Why？　What's　happened？〃
　　〃My　father　just　called　at　school。　They　found　a　tumor　in　one　of　Mother's　lungs。　They're　operating　tomorrow。〃
　　He　breathed　deeply。　〃I'm　so　sorry。〃　He　did　not　touch　her。　She　was　not　crying。
　　〃I　must　go。　I've　taken　a　leave　of　absence　at　school。〃
　　〃For　how　long？〃　It　was　a　nervous　question。
　　She　looked　past　him；　to　the　Ego　Wall。　〃I　don't　know；　Mitch。　We　need　some　time　apart。　I'm　tired　of　a　lot　of　things　right　now；　and　I　need　time。　I　think　it　will　be　good　for　both　of　us。〃
　　〃Let's　talk　about　it。〃
　　〃You're　too　busy　to　talk；　Mitch。　I've　been　trying　to　talk　for　six　months；　but　you　can't　hear　me。〃
　　〃How　long　will　you　be　gone；　Abby？〃
　　〃I　don't　know。　I　guess　it　depends　on　Mother。　No；　it　depends　on　a　lot　of　things。〃
　　〃You're　scaring　me；　Abby。〃
　　〃I'll　be　back；　I　promise。　I　don't　know　when。　M