Park Avenue (Book Six in the Fifth Avenue Series) (54 page)

“Tell me Brad Pitt is
coming.
 
At least give me that.”

“Why set your sights so
low?
 
I’m giving you better.
 
Talk later.
 
And be safe, OK?”

“This place is
airtight.
 
Don’t worry about
it.
 
It’s my top priority.”

Now she looked at
Mario.
 
“What do you think?”

“I think you have a
winner,” Mario said.

“Zack deserves much of
the credit.”
 
She looked at
him.
 
“None of this would have
happened without your work, your creativity and your guidance.
 
This also is your hotel.
 
I’m so grateful for what you’ve done.”

“Leana, come on.
 
I’ve only been here for a few
weeks.
 
Most of this is you.
 
But you can still thank me with a
bonus.”

She smiled.
 
“You’ve got it.”

“I’m joking.”

“I’m not.”

She looked around the
space.
 
“Are we missing
anything?
 
I think we’ve thought of
everything.”

“We’re good,” Zack
said.
 
“I’ve run through my lists,
and everything is in order.”

“What are we hearing from
the media?”

“That they’d like to get
inside today.”

“That’s a good sign.”

“I don’t think we’ll be
short on media coverage.
 
As you
know, they’re covering your opening and your father’s opening.
 
Expect it to be played that way.
 
They’ll draw their comparisons, and
unfortunately, the way they’ll play it, it will come down to who won.”

“That’s what worries me.”

“What you have in your
favor is a restoration,” Mario said.
 
“The Hotel Fifth is cold and new.
 
It’s not special like this.
 
It
lacks character and it doesn’t have a history.
 
Your hotel reaches back to another era
and brings it forward for a new generation to enjoy.
 
The Waldorf is right across the street,
and this trumps it, which is no easy feat considering it is, after all, the
Waldorf.
 
Hands down, you win.”

“We’ll see,” Leana
said.
 
“My father has cultivated
relationships with the media for years.
 
I haven’t.
 
They know me as
the troublesome daughter and former drug addict who used to make their jobs
difficult, and who recently has become somebody’s target for whatever reason.”

Her cell buzzed in her
pants pocket.
 
She pulled it out and
read the name on the screen—Marty Spellman.
 
She answered it.
 
“Marty,” she said.
 
“Tell me you have good news.”

“I think it’s best if I
come and see you,” he said.
 
“Are
you able to meet?”

“Of course, I am.
 
I’m at the hotel.
 
Mario is with me.
 
I’ll let the men at the doors know that
you’re coming.”

“I’ll see you in
fifteen.”

CHAPTER
SEVENTY-SIX

Before Marty arrived,
Mario asked Leana where Sean Scott was.

“Lunch.”

“How are things between
you?”

“I don’t know.
 
Probably strained on my part.
 
This morning, I asked him again if my
father hired one of his men.
 
He
denied it.
 
To be frank, I don’t see
how or why he’d be part of this.
 
Anastassios brought him to me, which is reason enough for me to trust
him.
 
I think we both know that
Anastassios would never hurt me.
 
Look at how he handled me on his ship when he learned that fake reporter
from the
Times
had interviewed me.
 
He sequestered me.
 
How he’s
behaved since that night confirms what I already know about him.
 
He thinks of me like a daughter.
 
He’s vetted Sean.
 
He trusts Sean.
 
I should, too.”

“What about your father’s
text?
 
How can you ignore that?”

“I’m not ignoring it, I
just don’t know what my father’s deal is.
 
Maybe he thought he hired one of Sean’s men.
 
Maybe he thought he spoke to Sean, and
got somebody else instead.
 
I can’t
figure it out.
 
There could have
been a mix-up.
 
Unless you see
something in Sean that I’m missing, what I need to do is trust Sean and move forward.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then that’s that.”

Mario nodded toward the
unlocked set of doors, which two of Sean’s men were guarding.
 
“Marty is here,” he said.

They went over as Marty
stepped inside and shook his hand after one of the guards patted him down.

“Sorry about that,” Leana
said.

“For what?
 
You’ve got to be safe.”

“Let’s go to my
office.
 
We can talk in private
there.”

As they crossed the lobby
to the bank of elevators, Marty looked around the space and said, “This is
spectacular, Leana.
 
It’s
beautiful.
 
How much of it has been
restored?”

“Actually, all of it.”

“You saved this
building.”

“I’m hoping it will
return the favor.
 
I want my life
back.
 
I see my future in this
building, and hopefully in other projects.
 
I want to feel safe again.
 
I
hope you have good news for us.”

When he didn’t answer,
Leana steeled herself for the worst.

In her office, she and
Mario sat on one of two sofas, and she invited Marty to take the one opposite
them.

“What news do you have?”
Mario asked.

“I need you to keep an
open mind and follow the thread on what I’ve learned over the past few
days.
 
I know it’s going to sound
absurd, but it’s possible and it also reinforces what I suggested before.
 
I’m leaning in this direction.”

“What direction?” Leana
asked.

Marty told them
everything.
 
He told them about
obtaining a copy of Ryan’s will, learning that all of his beneficiaries had
recently died, and that some had been murdered.
 
He told them about his meeting with
Louis Ryan’s executor, James Cullen, that the man seemed unnerved by what was
happening, and that he had hired security for that reason.
 
He told them about his meeting with
Fitzy Fertzbergen, the damning things he said about Ryan, and that Fitzy knew
for a fact that there was no way that Ryan was close to any of his
beneficiaries, with the exception of Rowena Clark, whom he didn’t know.
 
Finally, he told them that Detective
Mike Hines, who was investigating the deaths of Charles Stout and Florence
Holt, was a friend of his, that Hines had since met with Cullen and been
introduced to his security team, and that, short of a lie detector test, Hines’
gut instinct was that Cullen told him the truth when questioned.
 

“Cullen told Hines that
he was scared for his own safety, which is what he told me.
 
And I agree with Mike—I also
walked away believing him.
 
But
where does that leave us now?” Marty asked.
 
“Fitzy Fertzbergen called Cullen a snake
in the grass.”

“Who is Fitzy
Fertzbergen?” Leana asked.

“Lives on Park.
 
He’s in the book.
 
Comes from one of New York’s best
families.
 
And he’s a hoarder.”

“He’s a what?”

“A hoarder.
 
His townhouse was jammed with junk.
 
You could barely move in it.
 
I wouldn’t be surprised to find a body
under all of that crap.
 
Classic
hoarding signs.
 
I’ve seen it
before.
 
But beyond that, he was
clear-headed when we spoke and he obviously knows everyone.
 
He turned out to be of help, especially
when he put Ryan’s beneficiaries into perspective.
 
He said that he didn’t trust Cullen,
which suggests that Cullen could be a gifted liar and that he’s behind all of
this.
 
So far, there’s no proof of
that.
 
We might never know.”

“Why would he be behind
any of this?
 
I don’t even know the
man.”

“He and Ryan went to Yale
together.
 
They were good friends;
they roomed together, though Cullen says their friendship waned over the
years.
 
Who knows if it did?
 
He was named executor of the will and he
received all of Ryan’s shares in Manhattan Enterprises, where he now sits on
the board and has an office.
 
Was
there a private addendum to the will?
 
Is Cullen carrying out Ryan’s final, private wishes out of some sense of
loyalty?
 
It would be risky as hell
to put his own life on the line like this.
 
But again, who knows?
 
At
this point, that’s all I’ve got, and it’s the only thing that makes sense.
 
Louis Ryan knew that anything could
happen that night at The Hotel Fifth, including his own death, which did
happen.
 
Because of that, he could
have taken measures before that night and set into motion a plan for all of
this to happen should he die.
 
If he
did, it was smart of him to wait three years to do so.
 
People forget.
 
It was also smart of him to name those
people as his beneficiaries.
 
He
gave each of them five million dollars upon his death.
 
That tends to throw someone like me off
because I’d naturally assume that they were close.
 
Do I know if I’m on the right
track?
 
No. But we’re running out of
time. With the hotel opening tonight, which is when we both think a negative
event might happen, I wanted to get this information to you immediately.
 
So far, this is the most plausible
scenario.”

“Just plausible?” Mario
asked.

“Yes, but given Ryan’s
state of mind at the time, I believe it’s a strong possibility.
 
I didn’t know the man.
 
But according to my conversations with
Leana and others, it’s clear that he was determined to make certain that Leana
and her family die.
 
He was focused,
organized and driven.
 
There’s an
obvious element of insanity in what he did.
 
Maybe he thought he wouldn’t be able to
finish what he started, so he was led in this direction.”
 
Marty shrugged.
 
“But all of that is just supposition on
my part.
 
I’m sorry, Leana.
 
Mike Hines is one of the shrewdest
detectives I know.
 
I’ve worked with
him for years.
 
Even he couldn’t
crack Cullen, assuming there’s anything to crack.”

Leana turned to
Mario.
 
“The other night, when my
father texted me about hiring one of Sean’s men, you made a couple of phone
calls.
 
I assume they were to your
brothers.”

“They were.”

“Are they willing to help
you?”

“They said they would,
but I’ve yet to hear anything from them.”

“I suppose none of this
even matters, at least not when it comes to tomorrow night,” she said.
 
“Whoever is behind this is still out
there.
 
Still free.
 
Everyone who enters the building
tomorrow has to pass through a metal detector, which will piss off plenty, but
so be it.
 
My question is whether
that’s enough.
 
I doubt it.”

“Some things can’t be
wrapped in a neat bow, Leana,” Marty said.
 
“You always will be at risk until the person or persons behind this are
caught.
 
I’m sorry I couldn’t assist
to that end—at least not within such a limited timeframe.
 
If you agree to it, I’ll continue my
investigation beyond tomorrow night until we learn who’s responsible.
 
But for now?
 
My best advice is that you delay
tomorrow night’s event until after that happens.”

“That’s not happening,”
Leana said.
 
“Because of my brother,
people are flying in for this event.
 
Celebrities.
 
The hotel opens
for business the next day, which means another opportunity for a party like
this is out of the question.
 
The party
goes forward.
 
I’ll give my
speech.
 
I’ll have security focused
on me and flanked around me.
 
We’ll
get through the night.
 
This
happened to me once before at the opening of The Hotel Fifth, and because I
chose to get back into this business, it’s happening again.
 
The irony isn’t lost on me.
 
I’m giving my speech.”