The Killer Sex Game (A Frank Boff Mystery) (27 page)

Two nights later, when Emilio picked up Hazuki in a Town Car and headed for Broadway, Boff and his team were following. The Town Car let them off at the Winter Garden Theatre, where
Mamma Mia!
was playing. After getting out of the car, they headed arm-in-arm for the entrance to the theater. Manny shot several pictures.

Wallachi turned to his crack op. “Get me the phone number of Telecharge.”

Using his BlackBerry, Manny got the number and relayed it to Wallachi, who called on his iPhone.

“Hi, I’m interested in
Mamma Mia! …
I’m not sure yet when I’ll be going, but I wanted to know the running time, including intermission … Two and a half hours with one fifteen-minute intermission. Thank you very much.”

“Pete,” Boff said, “there’s no point in us hanging here all that time. Let’s get a bite to eat. There’s a good Italian family-style joint a few blocks south of here called Don Giovanni. Let’s head there.”

Boff, Wallachi, and Manny split a large Romana pizza with chicken, onions, red peppers, and artichokes, while Cullen ordered a Mediterranean salad with tuna.

“Frank,” Wallachi said, “what are you going to do with all these photos, anyway?”

“Let me guess,” Cullen interjected. “He’s going to show them to Alicia.”

Boff smiled. “Why do you think I’d do that?”

“Because if Alicia had Mantilla killed for cheating on her, it wouldn’t be a stretch to think she’d do the same to Emilio.”

Manny looked surprised. “You’re trying to get Emilio killed?”

Boff shook his head. “Danny has a vivid imagination.”

After the show let out, Emilio grabbed a cab with Hazuki. Instead of heading uptown to her building, they went to his condo. Two hours later, they came back out. Standing on the stoop, they indulged in some lengthy kissing before Hazuki got in a Town Car.

As the car drove off, Wallachi said, “Should I follow, Frank?”

“No. Let’s head back.”

***

The next day, eager to start his endgame scenario in motion, Boff called assistant D.A. Carl Baumgartner at his Brooklyn office.

“Leave your office,” Boff directed, “and ring me back from a pay phone.”

My phone isn’t tapped.

“Maybe so, but I want to be absolutely sure we’re secure when we talk.”

So I’ll use my cell.

“Come on, Carl. You know cell phones are easier to tap than land lines. And don’t use the pay phones in your lobby, either. Someone might be able to overhear. Find a phone on the street.”

Five minutes later, when Carl called back, Boff could hear traffic noise in the background.

“Have you been able to get the tap on the judge?” he asked.

I’m working on it.

“Well, I’ve got a little info that might make it easier. You remember I mentioned that the hooker worked for an elite escort service?”

Yes.

“The name of the service is—”

Wait! Let me take out a pad and pen. … Okay, shoot.

“It’s called NY Club Cachet
VIP. Its website is www.NYClubCachet.com.”

Who’s the owner?

“Technically, a shell corporation called ACM International. The same corporation also owns Giancarlo’s Restaurant near the courthouse. I’m pretty sure a gal who calls herself Alicia Celina is the owner of both the restaurant and the escort service. Or at least a partner. Her full name is Alicia Celina Mantilla. Her brother was Alberto Mantilla.”

Wait, slow down. I can’t write as fast as you
talk. … Okay. What else? 

“Her brother Alberto was killed by a car bomb recently. Without going into details now, Alicia Celina had a hand in Mantilla’s death. As well as the murder of a Cuban boxer named Rafael Oquendo, who was also connected to the escort service.”

Oquendo … He was that Olympic gold medal winner, right?

“Correct. Alicia also had those two cops killed gangland style in their patrol car.”

Geez, Frank. This gal’s a regular terminator. If I can prove all this, I might skip D.A. and run for attorney general.

Boff smiled. “Get the tap. Start the ball rolling. Meanwhile, I have a favor to ask. Call Alicia into your office for questioning. Then leak that info to a sympathetic reporter at the
Post
. Give it to them as an exclusive and ask the newspaper to put the story on Page Six. I want it to make today’s late print edition. And the website, too.”

Come on,
Frank. You know I can’t leak stuff to the press.

“Bullshit, Carl. Your office does it every day. Maybe not you. But it’s done.”

Is the leak important to you?

“Yes. And one more thing. A detective from the 77
th
Precinct named Vic Damiano
helped me on the case. Get her name in on the leak.”

Anything else
, boss?

“How soon can you bring Alicia in?”

If I serve her today, I can haul her in tomorrow.

“Perfect. I want you to serve the papers at exactly five-fifteen today. She’ll be at Giancarlo’s. Either at a table or in her office.”

Why five-fifteen?

“So I can have a front row seat.”

Before heading over to Giancarlo’s later that day, Boff picked up some of the crack op’s photos from Wallachi and put them in a pair of manila envelopes. Then he waited outside the restaurant until five minutes after five, at which time he walked in and was greeted by Daysi.

“Where’s Alicia?” he asked.

“In her office. Thank god! I hope she stays there.”

“Where’s her office?”

“Go straight past that long table in the back and you’ll see the corridor. Her door’s the first one on the left.”

When Boff approached Alicia’s office, he saw that the door was wide open. He paused and knocked on it as he stepped in.

She looked up from something she was working on at her desk and frowned. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Alicia, I only need a few minutes. And I guarantee you it will be well worth your while.”

“I’m not interested, bozo.”

“Oh…I dunno about that. I think you will be.”

“Make it fast then. And then get lost.”

“No problem,” Boff said. “As you know, I’m trying to track down a murder suspect, and I have reason to believe your lover, Emilio Benvenuti, might be involved in the murder.”

At this, Alicia’s eyes narrowed. “Who said we’re lovers?”

In reply, he opened one of the envelopes and pulled out the photo Manny had taken of Alicia and Emilio kissing on the front stoop of his row house. Stepping forward, he laid the photo down on Alicia’s desk without a word. Then he stepped back.

Alicia reacted to the photo as he expected. Face flushed with anger, she grabbed the picture, crumpled it up, and threw it back at Boff. He let it bounce off his chest and hit the floor.

Alicia pointed at the door. “Get out!”

“But I have more good photos for you to see.”

“Shove ’em! So I’m having an affair with Emilio. Big fucking deal. I don’t know shit about any murder.”

Boff nodded like he understood. “That’s why I was sure you’d be interested in looking at some of the other shots I have.” He tapped the envelope, and before Alicia could protest, he pulled out several of the other photos Manny had taken of Hazuki with Emilio, including the one where they were kissing passionately in front of her uptown apartment building. Making sure the smooching photo was on top, he set the stack on her desk.

Seeing the picture, Alicia’s eyes got wider. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Then she grabbed the pile of photos and looked at every shot, flipping each one over her shoulder as she plowed through. Boff was pleased to see she had the same fury in her eyes now she’d had when she’d confronted Alberto in the restaurant.

“I’ll kill that cheating bastard!” she said as she ripped the final photo in half. “I’ll rip his nuts off!”

Boff held up one hand. “Careful now,” he warned. “I don’t think you want to be saying something like that…considering who Emilio’s father is.”

“You know what? I don’t give a shit about his fat-ass father. Bruno’s over the hill. When I was dating that old fart a couple years ago, he couldn’t even get it up. I had to suck him until my lips were raw before his pencil dick stood up straight. Then he’d cum so fast I barely could work up a sweat.”

She stopped and her eyes burned into Boff. “Why the hell are you showing me this crap?”

He put on his best smile. “Well, for starters, I figured you’d be interested. And I guess I was hoping you might reward me.”

“Screw you, sleazeball! I’m not paying you a fucking dime!”

Giving her a sly smile, Boff shrugged, then looked at his watch. It was five-fourteen. “One last thing,” he said. “Do you happen to know about an escort service named NY Club Cachet VIP?”

That caught Alicia off guard, but she quickly regained her composure. “Never heard of it? Why?”

“Well, I have a feeling you might be questioned about that service very soon.”

Hearing footsteps approaching in the hall, Boff turned and saw Daysi leading two men in suits. Leaving the men at the door, Daysi stepped into the office. She looked really nervous. “Uh…Alicia…uh…these guys are investigators for the D.A.’s Office. They…they wouldn’t say why they wanted to see you. But I saw their badges.”

One of Carl’s investigators stepped into the office, placed a white envelope on Alicia’s desk, then moved back to the doorway.

Alicia didn’t touch the envelope. “What the hell is this?”

“The D.A. wants you in for questioning tomorrow.”

“About fucking what?”

“It’s all in the envelope, ma’am.”

Having finished their business, the investigators turned and left. Daysi hustled off right behind them.

Still not having touched the envelope, Alicia glared at Boff. “You put them up to this!”

He feigned surprise. “Me? Oh, but you’re mistaken.
I don’t work for the D.A.” He turned to go, but before he left, he added, “By the way, I was wondering how your trust fund was holding up.”

At this, Alicia yanked open her desk drawer, pulled out a butcher knife, and shot up out of her seat.

“That’s my exit line,” Boff said.

Leaving her office, he walked across the restaurant, and stopped at Daysi’s station. He looked back. Alicia was standing in the corridor near her office, holding the big knife at her side.

“Daysi, please tell Alicia I said to have a very nice day.”

Boff set up two meetings for that night. First with Emilio, then later with his father. The mobster’s son was holding a cocktail shaker at the open front door of his upstairs condo when Boff, carrying the second manila envelope he had gotten from Wallachi, finished trudging up the steps. After shaking Boff’s hand, Emilio stepped aside to let him enter his apartment.

“Drink, Frank?”

“Cola would be fine.”

Putting his shaker down on the bar next to a bottle of Grey Goose, Emilio opened a small fridge, and took out a Coke. After handing the soda to his guest, Emilio shook the shaker, then poured the cocktail into a martini glass and took a sip.

“So, Frank, what’s up? You said it was important.”

“Emilio, I can’t tell you how I know, but I’m aware that you and Alicia Celina are having an affair.”

Emilio looked surprised. He hesitated before speaking. “Well, if I was…what’s the relevance to anything?”

“For starters, I have reason to believe that Alicia owns the escort service you used.”

He let Emilio think about that a minute. When the banker said nothing, he continued. “And here’s more relevance. Alicia apparently believed you were cheating on her, so she hired a private investigator to keep you under surveillance.”

Still silent, Emilio took a long sip of his martini.

“The investigator happens to be a good friend of mine,” Boff said. “He knows I’ve been trying to nail Alicia, so he suggested I rile her up a bit to throw her off balance. So my buddy gave me a couple photos he’d taken of you with a beautiful Japanese girl. He told me to show them to Alicia.”

At that, Emilio winced and drained his martini. Still without a word, he refilled his glass.

Boff reached into the second envelope and brought out the shot Manny had taken of Emilio and Hazuki getting out of the Town Car in front of the Broadway theater. The second shot he pulled out was of Emilio and Hazuki kissing outside her building. He handed them to the mobster’s son.

“Frank, I
really
wish you hadn’t done this.”

Boff nodded like he understood. “I know. I know. I hated to do it. But my case was stalled, and I owed it to my client to do something to jumpstart it.”

Emilio examined each photo again, then placed them down on the bar. “What did Alicia say when she saw these pictures?”

For an answer, Boff took out a digital recorder from his pocket and hit play.

I’ll kill that cheating bastard! I’ll rip his nuts off!

Careful now. I don’t think you want to be saying something like that, considering who Emilio’s father is.

You know what? I don’t give a shit about his fat-ass father. Bruno’s over the hill. When I was dating that old fart a couple years ago, he couldn’t even get it up. I had to suck him until my lips were raw before his pencil dick stood up straight. Then he’d cum so fast I barely could work up a sweat.

“That crazy bitch!” Emilio exclaimed.

Boff put his recorder away. “I couldn’t agree with you more,” he said, his voice dripping empathy. “Emilio, anything you tell me right now about my case stays with me. And just to make sure, give me a buck as a retainer.”

The mobster’s son took out his billfold, opened it and looked through his cash. “Smallest I got is a ten.”

“That’ll do.”

Emilio handed it over.

“Okay,” Boff began, “now that this conversation is privileged, I can tell you I have reason to believe you’re partners with Alicia in the escort service.”

Emilio pursed his lips but remained silent.

“I also believe Alicia contracted for hits on Rafael, Marla, her rapist/murderer, Alberto Mantilla, and two bent cops. I’m pretty sure you weren’t involved with any of that. Correct?”

Emilio sank down on a bar stool and let out a weary, defeated sigh. “I argued vehemently against the killings,” he said after some thought. “It wasn’t what I signed up for. But…well…Alicia listens to no one.”

“How did she find the contractor?”

“As she said on your tape, Frank, she had an affair with my old man. He introduced her to some of his mob friends. I guess he wanted to show her off. Whatever. In any case, she met plenty of guys who’d do murder for hire.”

Boff nodded. “That’s about what I thought.”

Emilio leaned forward. “Frank, where are you going with this?”

“I intend to make Alicia pay for what she did to Danny’s girlfriend.”

“By getting the D.A. to indict her?”

Boff smiled. “Let’s just say I have something else in mind. And out of respect for your father, I’ll do everything in my power to distance you from this. Tell me, is there any paper tying you to the service?”

Emilio shook his head. “No. Everything’s under a shell corporation Alicia owns.”

“Good. Does anyone besides Alicia know you were aware of the contract hits?”

“No.”

“Again good. It looks like you’re pretty well out of harm’s way. Now what about the money? How do you get paid by the escort service?”

“Money is wired to a banking friend of mine. He sends it to an off-shore account in
Barbados that I have in the name of Derek Jeter.” Emilio shrugged. “I’ve always been a big fan of the Yankees.”

Boff paused to sip his Coke. “And does Alicia know where you keep that money?”

The banker shook his head. “All she knows is it goes to my friend.”

“Perfect. I’m curious about something, though. How and why did you get involved in this service?”

Before answering, Emilio finished his second martini. “I met Alicia at the Gotham Bar and Grill,” he finally said. “That was a few months ago. There was an empty stool next to her at the bar, and, you know…one thing led to another, we dated, got involved. After three or four dates, she told me about her idea for starting an escort service. She apparently had extensive experience in the business. She said she got part of the money to launch the service from a trust fund she had but was about two hundred thousand short.”

“So you went to your old man.”

Emilio nodded grimly. “Yeah. Man, I hated like hell doing that. I’d always vowed to be independent.” He shrugged. “But I’d suffered some bad losses in the market and was kind of desperate for cash. Alicia convinced me that I could recoup my losses with income from the service.” Another shrug. “So I bought in.”

“What about Alberto Mantilla? Where did he fit in?”

“Alberto used his friend Rafael to recruit the girls from Miami’s Cuban community.”

“I didn’t know that,” Boff lied. “Interesting. Now, while we’re speaking of the late Alberto, did you know Alicia was sleeping with him?”

“Sure. She told me right up front. And you know what, Frank? I didn’t really care.”

“Alicia strikes me as the jealous type. Didn’t she raise a fuss when you slept with the escorts?”

“Not at all. In fact, she encouraged me to do it. I guess she figured if I got, er, professionally laid once in a while, then I wouldn’t be tempted to cheat on her.”

Emilio looked down at his hands. He shook his head before looking up again. “Ever since I was a kid,” he said in a low voice, “I promised myself I wouldn’t get sucked into the family business.
Then….then I go and do something stupid like this.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Boff said in a sympathetic voice. “You were hurting for money.”

“Not really, Frank. I mean, yeah, sure, I took a hit in the market. But the truth is I had enough money to live on. I didn’t
need
to do this. But…. Aw, hell. I guess I’m just addicted to my lifestyle and couldn’t stand to give it up.” He gave out a short, bitter laugh. “Not much of an excuse, right?”

“Emilio, I’m not one to judge. Meanwhile, I want you to hire a bodyguard.”

“Why? You don’t think Alicia would actually try to kill me? I mean, despite what that lunatic said about my old man, I’m sure she’d be way too afraid of him to move on me.”

“I’m not so sure of that. Did you know that Mantilla was Alicia’s brother?”

That surprised Emilio. “You’re shitting me! I had no idea.”

“Alicia’s full name is Alicia Celina Mantilla. She killed her own
brother
because he was having an affair with the Cuban boxer’s wife. I don’t think she’d hesitate to have you murdered. Bruno or not.”

Emilio blew out an anxious sigh. “Hell, I guess you’re right, Frank. But if I’m going to hire a bodyguard, I’d rather not use any of Pop’s people. There’s muscle I can hire at Devil’s Own.”

“Okay. Then I think you’ve got all bases covered. There’s no paper tying you to the service. Nobody knows you were aware of the contract hits. And Alicia has no clue where you keep the money you make from the service. I’d say you’re out of harm’s way. Meanwhile, I wanted you to know that later tonight I have a meeting set up with your father.”

Emilio narrowed his eyes. “Why, Frank?”

“Because I think Bruno has a right to know you might be in danger. I owe that much to him for all the favors he’s done me.”

The banker thought about that a minute, then nodded. “Okay. I understand.”

“Just one more thing before I go. Do you own a car?”

“Yeah. I keep a Mercedes garaged. I only use it when I’m going out of town. Why do you ask?”

“Under no circumstances are you to drive the car until this is all over. Mantilla was killed by a car bomb. And there was one placed under my own vehicle.”

“Thanks for the info, Frank. I’ll walk you to the door.”

As the door closed softly behind him, Boff reached into his pocket, took out his recorder, and hit the stop button.