Gold Coast Blues (29 page)

Jeremy stood, walked to the couch, then extended his arm to Blackstone. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”

“Let them leave, Jules,” Margot said.

“He doesn’t need your help, Jeremy,” I said. “This strapping young buck could knock a skinny boy like me aside with no problem. But that would give away his secrets, right, Blacky?”

“Christ almighty!” Margot said. “What are you talking about? What secrets?”

“Whaddya say, Blackstone? You want to do it or should I? Tell those secrets, that is.”

Blackstone’s face clouded over. He stared first at me then took turns locking eyes with the others. “Go ahead,” he said scathingly. “I don’t want to ruin your fun.”

“Jeremy, take off Blacky’s beret and then take a pinch of that latex bald cap.”

Jeremy gawked at me a moment then put his hand on Blackstone’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Blackstone swatted Jeremy’s hand away. I rushed over, knocked off Blackstone’s beret, took a pinch of his scalp between thumb and forefinger, then stretched the latex an inch or two. An elbow to the stomach dropped me to the floor.

“Hello, Doug,” I gasped. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Chapter 46

Spike glowed with joy. Margot appeared either detached or astonished. Jeremy did a walking-dead imitation back to his desk, then sat like a dejected little boy.

Doug took out his fake teeth. “Okay,” he said. “Get over it already.”

“Here’s some acetone to remove the adhesive,” I said and tossed a small plastic bottle at Doug’s feet. “C’mon, get rid of that cap and beard, let’s have a look at you.”

“Damn it!” Spike said. “I really thought you were dead.”

“Working at the magic shop was a nice touch,” I said. “I have a feeling you’ve had this Blackstone character around for quite a while.”

Without a word, Doug picked up the bottle, removed a few Q-tips from his pocket, then calmly applied the liquid to the edges of the latex before carefully peeling off the cap, liberating his white-streaked gray hair.

“What did you do with Tanya?” I said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Doug said.

“Landau knows,” Margot said.

“Knows what?” Spike said.

“Margot killed Tanya,” I said. Spike’s and Jeremy’s initial expressions were incredulous, almost smiling as if waiting for the punch line. Spike stepped toward Margot. I didn’t like his posture. “Keep your distance,” I said, grabbing his arm then shoving him back. “What did you do with the body, Doug?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Doug said.

“Boring!” I shouted then removed a pistol tucked into the small of my back, the pistol I found in the dresser drawer of Doug’s room at the Masonic lodge, the pistol I now pointed at Doug.

“Put it down,” Spike said, producing a gun of his own and pointing it at me.

I laughed. “Really? You’re gonna shoot me?”

“Put it down. We can beat the info out of him if we have to.”

“Ach! You’re such a buzz-kill.” I put the gun in my jacket pocket and at the same time removed a tiny plastic tube that I tossed near Doug’s feet. As Spike put his gun away I slipped my hand back into my pocket, gripped the pistol, then aimed it at Doug through the jacket material and pulled the trigger. A sharp crack sent everyone into momentary cardiac arrest. The exploding squib smeared a gooey red mess on the carpet in front of Doug, splattering droplets over his shoes.

“No way!” Spike said. “You faked her out!”

I said to Margot, “You still think you killed Tanya?”

Margot’s gaze bounced between Doug and the crimson mess on the floor while she reconfigured the facts of last December. Her facial expression remained mostly benign, although the twitching, narrowing, and blinking of her eyes betrayed some kind of ongoing calculation. Finally, she bristled, “You son of a bitch!” bolted at Doug, shouting “Bastard!,” then threw herself upon him, wrapping her arms around his skull and turning side to side as if attempting to twist his head off. Doug struggled to repel the attack until Margot grabbed his beard with one hand and an eyebrow with the other, eliciting a ghastly scream as the latex base of the fake hair tore at Doug’s skin. He dropped to the floor and tried to roll her off. Somehow, Margot ended up lying on his chest while still maintaining her hold on his whiskers. But the move had been advantageous for Doug since he now had the leverage to twist her fingers backward, forcing Margot to relinquish her grip, and allowing Doug to shove her away. The two lay panting on the floor. Could this marriage be saved?

“Time for angry sex?” Spike said.

“Fuck off,” Doug said, pushing himself up then falling back onto the couch. “Crazy bitch.”

I walked to Margot, helped her up, guided her to the other end of the couch, then sat between them.

“All better?” I said. “Got it out of your systems?”

“Tell me, Doug,” Margot said. “Those tears. After faking her death. How did you get yourself to cry like that?”

I took out a thirty-millimeter plastic bottle of clear liquid and handed it to Margot. “Some type of mentholated liquid. Actors use it to make their eyes water.” Doug had nothing to add. I said, “Margot has no fear now since she knows she didn’t kill Tanya. So why don’t you tell us where she is?”

“I don’t know where she is,” Doug said.

“What the fuck, Doug?” Spike said. “I’ll tell you where Margot’s wine is if you tell us where Tanya is.”

“I said I don’t know!” Doug said loudly. “She moved out a week ago—to room with someone from the bar, and don’t ask me who it is because I have no fucking idea.”

“How sad!” Margot said. “Did she break your withered little heart?”

I gave Margot a
you’re not helping!
look and said, “What exactly was your relationship with Tanya?”

Doug sat up, the embodiment of helpless resignation. “It was nothing real,” he said.

Margot leaned forward, looked around me at Doug. “Not real?” she said. “Pretending I killed her so you could squeeze money out of me was not
real
? Threatening to ruin my life was not
real
?”

“Her feelings! She didn’t have
real
feelings for me—not like that.”

“Not like what?” I said.

“I cared about her—”

“You’re obsessed with her,” Margot said.

“Hey!” Doug shouted, taking his turn to look around me at Margot. “You were screwin’ Jeremy before I ever met Tanya, remember?” We all glanced at Jeremy, who had no discernible reaction. Doug then said quietly, “I was out of my head. She wasn’t afraid to use sex to get what she wanted. And she could be incredibly cruel.”

“Oh, god!” Margot groaned. “Are we supposed to feel
sorry
for you?”

“Did you know somebody from New Jersey was looking for Tanya?” I said.

“She seemed nervous, like someone was after her. She kept saying she wanted to disappear.
Disappear from what?
I would say.
What are you afraid of?
She would never answer. When that little shit Spike stole the wine, Tanya hatched this crazy idea of getting Margot to shoot her. If Margot thought Tanya was dead, she would say so if questioned, which would help Tanya disappear. I thought she was kidding. Then I thought she was nuts. But she kept pushing me to try it.”

“I guess I should be flattered,” Margot said. “You didn’t think I was stupid enough.”

“I didn’t think you were
crazy
enough. It was Tanya who saw—”

Margot jumped up and looked at Doug with a loathing I could only describe as feral. “You told her things about me—”

“But she went along with your little game, right?” I said. “After you wrapped her in blankets and carried her out of Margot’s apartment, then what? What was the plan?”

The four of us watched Doug fold his arms and let his chin fall to his chest. It occurred to me Doug wanted to be a part of this investigation, that he needed some kind of closure. Otherwise, why wouldn’t he just walk out? Maybe he was relieved now that the charade was over.

Doug lifted his chin and said, “I was going to call her when I got the money from the wine. The money would let her get away and start over somewhere else.”

I smiled, looked around expecting the others to reciprocate their joy in how simple things had suddenly become. But all I got was blank stares. “So call her!”

Doug didn’t like my tone. “Don’t give me orders, Landau.”

“Does anyone care where the wine is?” Spike said.

“Give Margot her wine back,” Jeremy said.

“I stole the wine from Doug,” Spike said. “What about it, Doug? You want your wine back?”

“Give it back to Margot,” Doug said.

“And give her back the five grand you took after knocking me out,” I said.

“What? That wasn’t me—I didn’t hit you.”

“I got cracked on the head because you’re a lying, selfish little prick! You can all talk amongst yourselves about who gets to sell bogus wine. But Doug needs to set up a meeting—”

“We still don’t know if it’s fake!” Margot said.

“Your dad filed a lawsuit,” Jeremy said. “He must’ve had a reason. Some idiot paid half a million for wine owned by Thomas Jefferson. He’s suing too.”

“So who cares?” Spike said. “As long as there’s a dumbass who thinks it’s real, then it’s real. It’s all fermented grapes.”

“Listen to me, Doug,” I said. “Tanya’s boyfriend Eddie is looking for her. He hangs with a lot of nasty people from New Jersey who want her found. And there are others looking for her. Lots of potential
motivations
involved here, Doug—”

“You’re being
paid
to find her,” Doug said. “Why should I think you give a damn about her life? She’s safe where she is. Leave her alone until I can get the money together.”

“You’re sure she’s safe?” I said. “But you don’t even know where she is. What makes you think she’s safe? And how long do you think she’ll
remain
safe? And where is the goddamn wine, Spike?”

Spike smiled. “Margot has it,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” Margot said.

“It’s in your attic. I knew how much it creeped you out up there. So I moved it when you were hanging out at that French place across the street.”

“I told you to change the locks, Margot,” I said. “And it’s probably too warm in that old attic. Heat’s terrible for wine, even I know that.”

“Who’s drinking the wine?” Spike said. “It’s too
valuable
to drink.”

Spike’s comment seemed to torpedo the discussion. Doug appeared dazed. I wanted to smack the side of his head. Instead, I dropped a business card on his lap and said, “You’re a fool if you think she’s safe. Those who want to find Tanya
will find her
. And here’s a little secret. She has connections to organized crime. So the FBI wants to find her too. You helped fake her death to blackmail Margot. I have a feeling the FBI might want to talk to you and everyone in this room, and I can facilitate that. That’s why you’re going to call Tanya and set up a meeting. That’s why after I walk out of here, everyone in this room is going to encourage you to do as I ask. Whether you sell the wine or use it for enemas, I don’t give a damn.”

Chapter 47

Lying in bed, I wondered how the oddsmakers would have determined the probability of Doug following through with my request. I called Kalijero without checking how late it was. It didn’t seem to matter.

“
Stathmos Larissis
,” he said answering the phone on the first ring. “Next stop, Megalopolis, have your tickets ready.” Joyous laughter.

“Jimmy?”

“
Kyrios,
Landau? What can I do for you?”

“What’re you so happy about?”

“The ouzo’s talking. What do you want?”

“Ouzo and painkillers? Is that a good idea?”

“It sure feels like a good idea.”

“Is it against the law to fake your own death?”

“I’ve looked into this, believe it or not, and have never been able to find a federal statute that addresses faking your own death. Anything else?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” Kalijero said then hung up.

Too bad. Doug’s contact with the missing Tanya would’ve been enough to bring him in, but that’s not how the Feds operated. They waited and watched. If Doug was truly obsessed, he would do what was right for Tanya, if only to stoke an idiotic fantasy, something like Tanya realizing he saved her from a crummy life in New Jersey—and into his arms Tanya would run.
She moved out a week ago to room with someone from the bar.
I thought back nine days, when Eddie first found me in Mocha Mouse. Then to the Auvergnat Vin Bar for a taste of Jeremy’s vintage arrogance, followed by the preppy coffee shop and brokenhearted James—
someone Tanya knew from the bar.

—

By eight
A.M.,
beautifully bobbed and tapered hairstyles hovered over laptops at Arbitrage on Armitage. The newly acquired white spot on James’s bangs befitted Arbitrage’s clashing décor of earthy color schemes against chrome, steel, and granite accoutrements. His reaction upon seeing me was a textbook demonstration of micro-expressions, beginning with confusion, followed by recognition, then suspicion, then fear.

“You got a few minutes?” I said.

“I still don’t know where Tanya is.”

“Doug said she moved in with someone from the bar.”

Thud-thud-thud,
the sound of ninja stars hitting James’s chest. His misery washed over me as he raced through the faces of ex-coworkers. Customers started lining up behind me. I stepped away and watched him bravely dose, tamp, pull, and steam through his distress until a lull in the action afforded the opportunity to ask for a break. Sitting at a table, I waved him over.

“You’re overreacting,” I said. “She’s just someone’s roommate, nothing more.”

“She could’ve called me. She could’ve moved in with me.”

I wanted to grab his shoulders, shake him violently, tell him how much harder life was for sensitive guys. Instead, I lied to him. “Look, nobody’s sleeping with her. Doug confessed she didn’t like him
that way
. She was just a tease, to get a rich guy to spend money on her.”