1 Assault with a Deadly Glue Gun (35 page)

Dumb thug. He hadn't even frisked me before tying me up. Big
mistake on his part. One I intended to make sure he'd live to regret.

Contorting my body, I squirmed around until I had dumped
the contents of my smock pockets into the trunk bed. Then I
scooted around in the dark, searching with my fingertips. Pencils.
Markers. Assorted google eyes, sequins, and beads. A bottle of
tacky glue. A spool of quilting thread. A roll of fusible webbing.

Bingo! My fingers curled around my trusty X-Acto knife. No
girl should be without one. With the knife pinched between my
fingers, I flipped off the protective plastic cap and set to work on
the macrame cord.

As the car sped toward whatever spot Ricardo had designated
as my final resting place, I hacked at my bindings. I also wound up
slicing off half my skin in the process, thanks to Ricardo's breakneck speed, which sent me hurtling around the trunk like a pinball
on amphetamines. Figuring I couldn't bleed to death from cuts
made by a three-quarter-inch blade, I forced myself to ignore the
pain and kept chopping away at my restraints.

After what seemed like forever, I freed my arms and ripped the
tape from my mouth. Not bothering with my legs at this point, I
reached for my cell phone and called Batswin.

"Batswin" She answered on the first ring, and I breathed a
huge sigh.

"I'm trapped in Ricardo's trunk. He's going to kill me," I whispered.

"Who is this? I can't hear you. Speak up."

I whispered as loud as I dared. "Anastasia Pollack. I'm locked in
Ricardo's trunk."

"Where are you?"

"I don't know. I was at Trimedia, but he knocked me out. I
don't know how long ago. What time is it now?"

"A few minutes before three."

I remembered glancing at the clock on Hugo's desk as I
straightened up his files. "Then we're somewhere within a twentyor thirty-minute radius of Trimedia, but he's driving very fast."

"Can you describe the car?"

"A black Mercedes. New York plates."

"Any chance you caught the plate number? Or at least a partial?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember. The entire percussion section of the New York Philharmonic was tuning up inside my head, compliments of Ricardo's conk to my noggin. I
searched my memory.

"Mrs. Pollack? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm trying to remember. A vanity plate. He had a vanity
plate."

"What did it say?"

I remember thinking how appropriate. And stupid. But why?
The car hit a pothole. My head slammed into the top of the trunk,
sending my teeth through my tongue. I tasted blood and groaned.

"What happened? Are you all right?"

"Sure, Detective." I spit out a mouthful of blood. "I'm having
the time of my life-what's left of it."

"We'll find you. I promise."

"Great. You think you could maybe do it before I'm swimming
with the fishes?"

"My partner's putting out an APB as we speak, but a tag number would speed things up."

"That's it!"

"What?"

"Up. The tag read UP2NOGD"

She snorted. "You're kidding."

"Hey, my brain is speeding toward a date with a bullet. Would I
joke about a thing like that?"

"Sit tight. We're on our way."

Sit tight? Where the hell did she expect me to go? "One other
thing, Detective..."

"Yes?"

"I know who-" Static blared in my ear. A moment later, my
phone went dead.

There was nothing else I could do other than free my legs and
wait. And hope the cops found Ricardo's Mercedes before he
dumped my body in some watery grave.

At least the wait proved educational. Erica, sounding as though
she had forgotten Dicky had moments ago smacked her hard
enough to rattle her fillings-or maybe because of it-stepped
into full suck-up mode. "You sure have the cops fooled," she said.

Ricardo guffawed. "Dumb shmucks. I sure got'em chasing after
their tails, don't I?"

"Except at one point I was scared they suspected me of killing
Marlys."

"Hey, Sweet Cheeks, you know I wouldn't a let it come to that.
Besides, I was always one step ahead of them, thanks to you."

"Me?"

((Sure. You did real good. You Bonnie, me Clyde, huh? Couldn't've
set it up better myself."

((I don't understand."

((Remember the day you called all upset about that bitch boss
of yours blaming you for something she wrote?"

((The article on Vittorio Versailles."

((Yeah. That one. You also mentioned the diamonds and her
date later that night with what's-his-name"

((Emil Pachette."

((Right. Him. Anyways, that's when it comes to me. You know
how I hated the way that bitch was treating you, making you do all
her work and her getting all the credit. Not to mention the big
bucks while you're making diddly-shit."

((Yes?"

"So's I figure nothing's gonna change as long as she's struttin'
around like the Queen of the Nile."

((So you killed her for me?"

((Hey, what're friends for? And look where you are now. A big
shit fashion editor. My Sweet Cheeks."

((No one's ever killed for me before, Dicky. I ... I'm overwhelmed."

((Anything for my Sweet Cheeks."

((So tell me, how'd you pull it off?"

((Easy. I arranged for the fashion fag to leave town. Then I called
the switchboard and left a message for the bitch. Pretended to be
this Emil guy and told the operator to tell the bitch I'd send a chauffeur to pick her up at the office." He laughed. ((Only surprise! It
wasn't a limo jockey who showed up."

"But how'd you get her to drink the doctored wine?"

"How do you think? I held a gun to her head"

"And then you made it look like Anastasia had killed Marlys
because you thought she was holding out on you?"

He snarled. "Stroke of genius that hit me while the fashion
bitch was drinking the Merlot. Originally, I was just gonna tie her
up and secure a plastic bag over her head once she passed out.
Then I thought, why not rattle the widow's cage a bit? Really spook
her. And give the cops someone else to focus their suspicions on."

"Instead of me?"

"Right. By the by, Sweet Cheeks, I know your friend's got the
dough stashed somewheres. Maybe when I tell her I'm gonna snuff
out her kids after I dump her body, she'll have an attack of sudden
remembering."

"Wh ... where are we taking her?"

"Delaware Water Gap. We'll toss the body over the cliffs into
the river."

Hurry, hurry, hurry, I silently commanded Batswin and her
posse. I tried my phone again, pressing Redial.

"Batswin"

"Thank God!" I whispered.

"Mrs. Pollack? Why'd you hang up? I was afraid to call you
back in case he heard the phone ring. Stay on the line so you can
help us track him."
"

I didn't hang up. We must have entered a dead cell zone. But I
know where he's taking me."

"Where?"

`The Delaware Water Gap."

"That means he's probably on Route 80. We've got state troopers all over that road, and I'm in a helicopter searching overhead."

"Best news I've heard all day. By the way, he just confessed to
killing Marlys, and I'm pretty sure he knocked off Vittorio Versailles."

"Confessed? You mean he's with someone?"

"Erica Milano. Did you know that she's Joey Milano's daughter?"

"Of course. Was she in on all this?"

"Not intentionally, but it turns out Ricardo's her boyfriend,
and she's been feeding him enough details to keep him outsmarting you.

More puzzle pieces fell into place. Erica had been standing outside the conference room while Batswin and Robbins were grilling
me the day after the murder. She must have overheard me telling
them about Ricardo and how I agreed to help trap him in their
sting. That's why later she was so curious about the duffel bag. But
at that point did Erica realize Ricardo was Dicky?

And it was Dicky-or Ricardo-who had given Erica an
iPhone and suggested she copy all of Marlys's files to it in order to
make dealing with Marlys's constant demands easier. I'll bet he
downloaded those files to his own phone. Which would have given
him access to all the e-mail addresses and phone numbers he
needed to carry out his dirty work.

Ricardo continued to gloat about his success as I spoke with
Batswin. I tried to listen to both of them at the same time, but the
noise from the car made it difficult. "Hold on," I said.

"And you were responsible for the break-ins at Anastasia's
house?" asked Erica.

"Yeah" He chuckled. "Piece a cake. I hit that place three times."

"Three? I only heard about the first two, but you didn't take
anything, did you?"

"Sure I did. Not the first time, though."

"You went looking for the money?"

"Yeah, but some nosy buttinsky showed up. I trashed the place
real good, though. Served her right for lying to me about the
dough."

"You're sure she's lying? What if she really doesn't have the
money?"

"Don't be stupid. She's got it, all right. Or she knows where it
is.

"I don't know. What about the other times? Why'd you go
back?"

"When you told me she and the cops were setting me up, I got
the bright idea of planting a photo of that shmuck husband of
hers with your bitchy boss. Make the cops suspect her even more
of doin' in the bitch."

With everything else I had learned about my dearly beloved, at
least he hadn't cheated on me. Well, at least not with Marlys. I
might never learn what other secrets accompanied Karl to the
grave, be they illicit activities or illicit affairs. And maybe that was
a good thing.

I could have forgiven Karl his gambling addiction if he hadn't
left us in a financial quagmire that ruined his sons' futures. After
all, gambling is a disease, and I did utter that in-sickness-and-inhealth vow. But gambling isn't covered by medical insurance, and
all things considered, I would have preferred my husband contracting leprosy.

I also doubted I could have forgiven him for cheating on me.
And then there was the business about trying to kill his mother.
Even if Lucille was the commie from Hell, that's no justification
for matricide.

"Anastasia figured someone doctored the photo and planted it
in Marlys's apartment," said Erica.

"He wasn't such a bad lookin' dude, that Karl. Coulda happened."

"He was an auto parts salesman, Dicky! Marlys wouldn't look
twice at a guy like that."
"

"Hey, Karl was hung."

"How would you know?"

I seen him at the gym once or twice. Besides, high-class
broads like to go slummin'."

"But if you knew Anastasia was working with the police, why
did you go along with it?"

"Jeez, Erica! Don't go stupid on me. I needed to get them all
out of the way long enough to hit the place again, didn't I?"

"Friday night?"

"Yeah, I wiped her out. Fenced the stuff to pay off your old
man. But all that crap didn't make much of a dent in the fifty G's.
Wasn't worth shit as far as your Uncle Nardo was concerned."

"Uncle Nardo? How's he involved in this?"

"Use your head, Sweet Cheeks. He's a fence, ain't he? Anyways,
he claims what with eBay sellin' electronics crap so cheap and
newer models coming out every day, it ain't worth the effort. I
think he screwed me, though. Gave me all of five grand for the
whole lot, but I had no choice. I had to dump the goods quick."

"But you had the diamonds, Dicky. Why not give those to
Daddy?"

"You got boulders for brains, Sweet Cheeks? You know how
much that ice's worth? I ain't turning them baubles over to Joey M.
No way. I earned them diamonds fair and square on my own time,
not on a job for the boss."

"But won't Daddy get real mad when you don't hand over all
the money?"

"Why should I fork over my hard-earned dough when it's Karl
who screwed me? And now his wife's trying to pull a fast one.
Trust me. She'll cough up the whereabouts of the bread to save
those kids of hers. Besides, I kinda figured you'd look real good
wearing some of those rocks"

"Really?"

"Sure. Gotta get them reset first, though. Don't want anyone
recognizing them."

"Maybe one of them could be an engagement ring?"

"Maybe"

"Oh, Dicky."

"Don't paw me while I'm drivin; Sweet Cheeks. Gets me too
excited."

Erica giggled. "Dicky?"

"Hmm?"

"I just had an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe we should stash Anastasia at Daddy's hunting lodge,
and you could go get her sons and bring them there"

"Or maybe I should kill one first and dump his body at her
feet. I'll bet she'd sing her little heart out to save the other one."

"Uhm ... that would work, but why not kill him in front of her?
More impact, right?"

"Yeah, even better. Hey, now you're talkin' like a Milano, Sweet
Cheeks. Your old man'd be real proud of you."

"I'll stay at the cabin and keep an eye on her while you go get
the kids."

"Sounds like a plan."

My heart now beat as loudly as the kettle drums pounding in
my head. I could barely force the words out as I spoke into the
phone. "Did you hear that? My God! He's going to kill one of my
kids."

But Batswin didn't answer. We'd entered another dead cell
zone.