Unnatural Acts (5 page)

“Put it out of your mind, Mike. I have.”

“If you say so.”

“Mike, you’ve met a Woodman and Weld associate named Herbie Fisher, have you not?”

“I have. Nice young fellow.”

“And you know Marshall Brennan?”

“I do. I invest with him.”

“Good. Herbie was sent up to Yale to assist Marshall’s son,
Dink, into a bucolic establishment in Connecticut where he was to receive attention for his gambling and drug problem.”

“Sounds like Winwood Farm.”

“One and the same. Unfortunately, in spite of Herbie’s stellar work, young Dink managed to extricate himself from the transportation provided and is now wild in the country.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Herbie is a bright fellow, but he has no experience in the tracing of missing persons. I thought, perhaps, that you might provide him with some assistance.”

“Who’s buying? Herbie?”

“Woodman and Weld, until they can bill Marshall Brennan.”

“I can do that,” Mike said. “Is Herbie with you?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Put him on the phone.”

“Of course.” Stone pointed at Herbie, then at the phone on the coffee table before the sofa in his office.

Herbie went to the sofa and picked up the phone. “Mr. Freeman? Yes, sir. No, sir, I cut up his credit cards and gave his cash to the driver of the Winwood Farm van. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt and a brown leather jacket and sneakers. I picked him up at his Yale dorm room. No, sir, I don’t know the name of his roommate or his friends, and I don’t know if he has a girlfriend. Yes, sir, I’ll be there in an hour.” Herbie hung up, and turned toward Stone. “Mr. Freeman is on it, and I’m to go to his office.”

“Herbie, you’re about to have a very valuable learning experience. Watch how Mike and his people work and remember everything.”

“Okay, Stone,” Herbie said, getting to his feet.

“And don’t walk, Herbie, it makes you pant and sweat. Take a cab.”

Herbie took his leave.

Joan buzzed.

“Yes?”

“Dino on one.”

Stone pressed the button. “Hey, Dino.”

“We need to talk,” Dino said. “Elaine’s, eight-thirty?”

“Dino,” Stone said sadly, “take a deep breath. Elaine’s is no more, remember?” Stone could hear the sound of Dino smiting his forehead.

“Jesus, I’ve got to get my head on straight.”

“Where shall we go?” Stone asked.

“I have no idea,” Dino said.

“I know how you feel. How about P.J. Clarke’s?”

“Right,” Dino said, sounding relieved. “Eight-thirty.”

“You book,” Stone replied. “They don’t hold a table for us at Clarke’s.”

“Not yet,” Dino said, then hung up.

HERBIE FISHER
arrived at Mike Freeman’s Strategic Services office in exactly fifteen minutes and was shown in.

“Good afternoon, Herbie,” Mike said, shaking his hand and waving him to a seat.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Freeman.”

“Please call me Mike.”

“Yessir, Mike.”

Freeman consulted a computer monitor on his desk. “Well, let’s see: Dink Brennan managed to steal back his wallet and cash before departing the Winwood Farm van, by the simple device of opening a rear door and jumping out when the van stopped for a light. Dink, it seems, is fleet of foot.

“His roommate, Parker Mosely, who was returning to the dorm as Dink was driven away, followed the van and has confessed to picking him up upon his escape from the van.

“Dink’s most likely destination is his girlfriend’s parents’ country house in Washington, Connecticut. Mr. Mosely did not give us
that information, but his mien on being asked about it gave my people to understand that that is where he might be. The girlfriend’s name is Carson Cullers, and her parents are Robert and Louise Cullers, of Ten-Ten Fifth Avenue, New York. They were apparently not aware of this spontaneous use of their country place.”

Herbie was in awe. “Jesus, you found out all that in fifteen minutes?”

“When you have good people in appropriate places it is remarkable what they can learn in fifteen minutes,” Freeman said. “Incidentally, Dink has already reported the loss of his credit cards to the various companies, and replacements have been overnighted to him. We were unable to ascertain the address to which they were sent—that would take us another day, at least—but it seems likely they went to the Kirby Road house in Washington. Two of my people are en route there from Hartford and should arrive in another hour or so.”

“There doesn’t seem to be much left for me to do, does there?”

“I suppose not. If my people find him in Washington, you may be sure that he will have been returned to Winwood Farm by dinnertime.”

“That’s great.”

“Herbie, judging from what I have learned, you did a very fine job today. Dink’s being returned to Winwood Farm is entirely due to the self-commitment letter you required him to sign. That was a very smart move, as was your obtaining a durable power of attorney. I’ll see that Bill Eggers is aware of that.”

“Thank you, Mike, that would be a load off my mind.”

“I should tell you,” Freeman said, “that since our phone conversation I have been able to learn a great deal about you. I was
appalled at the mess you made of your existence early on, but I’m very impressed with the turnaround you’ve made in your life. Because I’m impressed, I’m going to do you a favor, with your permission.”

“You have my permission,” Herbie said, “whatever the favor is.”

“You will recall that when Stone handled your divorce he got your former wife to cede to you her investment account at her father’s firm, amounting to some three million dollars.”

“Yes, I recall that, but she and her brother stole so much from the firm’s clients that I don’t see how those funds can ever be released to me.”

“That would be the case if any of the victims had bothered to sue the young woman, but although there was a suit against the firm, their insurance company has made good most of their losses, so a request made to the United States attorney can be made to release the funds to you.” Freeman slid a sheet of paper across the table. “If the wording of this request seems satisfactory to you, sign it and we’ll go to work to get your money. The trick is to get the funds released before the firm realizes that they should have sued the daughter.”

Herbie read the document and signed it. “Thank you, Mike, I’m very grateful to you.”

Freeman typed a short e-mail and sent it. “You’ll be pleased to learn that, since your divorce, the funds have grown to about three million, six hundred thousand dollars, due to a very successful IPO of a company in which your former wife owned shares.”

“Wow.”

“Herbie, you’re a very impressive young man, and I’m always looking for impressive young men to join Strategic Services. Perhaps you’ve found an interesting and rewarding career at
Woodman and Weld, but I suspect that, in time, you might well be considering a career path that offers you more latitude for personal growth.”

“You suspect correctly, Mike,” Herbie said. “The truth is, I’m already finding the law something of a grind, because of the sort of work assigned to associates.”

“You mean work that no one else wishes to do?”

“Exactly. I mean, getting Dink Brennan into treatment and settling his gambling debt was fun, in its way, but not something that helps build a career.”

“Don’t be too sure about that,” Freeman said. “I’ll see that Marshall Brennan knows of your role, and you may be sure that he will express his gratitude, and not just to Bill Eggers.”

“That’s kind of you, Mike.”

“Has it occurred to you that Eggers is probably considering you for the role of the new Stone Barrington at Woodman and Weld?”

“It has occurred to me.”

“Stone had a fair deal there, one that paid him a very good income, but one that did not improve his status in the firm. That did not occur until Stone gained us as a client, and further, the Steele Companies, an insurance conglomerate I was able to introduce him to. After that, when he brought his late wife, Arrington Calder, into the firm, a partnership became possible for Stone.”

“I had a sort of general idea about that,” Herbie said.

“But it took him a long time to accomplish that, and if the firm sidetracked you into the kind of services Stone provided them for so long, you might not get as lucky as he did. Strategic Services offers extremely interesting work and much more rapid advancement for the right young people. I suspect that you might be one of those people.”

“I appreciate that, Mike,” Herbie said.

“But go on and work at Woodman and Weld for a little while longer. See if you can gain a promotion to senior associate. That would look very good on your résumé. Then, when you feel the time is right, give me a call, and we’ll see what we can do for you.”

“Thank you, Mike, I’ll give that a lot of thought.”

A little chime rang, and Freeman turned to look at his computer monitor. “Aha,” he said, “young Mr. Brennan is, as we speak, en route to Winwood Farm, and this time, you may be sure he will arrive there.”

Herbie felt enormously relieved. “I can’t thank you enough, Mike.”

“Tell you what, Herbie,” Freeman said, “since we were able to wrap this up so quickly, I won’t bill Woodman and Weld for our services. Why don’t you call Bill Eggers and give him the good news? Use the phone over there.” He pointed to a coffee table.

Herbie went to the phone and called Eggers.

“Hello, Herbert,” Eggers said. “This had better be good news.”

“Bill,” Herbie replied, “Dink Brennan is on his way back to Winwood Farm.”

“Well, that
is
good news! How did you manage it?”

“I don’t think I need to go into the details, Bill. Suffice it to say that everything you asked me to do has been done, and in very short order. And I have to tell you, I don’t appreciate the threat implicit in your earlier statement.”

There was dead silence at the other end of the line.

“Goodbye, Bill. I won’t be coming back to the office today.” Herbie hung up.

Mike Freeman was laughing. “Something else I like about you, Herbie—you have an enormous set of brass balls.”

STONE AND DINO
met at P.J. Clarke’s bar and had their usual drinks, Knob Creek bourbon for Stone and Johnnie Walker Black Label scotch for Dino. Dino looked troubled.

“What’s the matter, pal, are you still grieving for Elaine’s?”

“Well, yes,” Dino replied, “but that’s not what’s bothering me now.”

“What is?”

“I’ve had another call from Shelley Bach,” Dino said.

“What did she have to say for herself?”

“She has nothing to say for herself,” Dino replied. “That’s the problem. She doesn’t seem to think she’s done anything wrong.”

“Even after murdering five people?”

“Even after that.”

“There’s a word for that: sociopath. Someone without a conscience.”

“I know that,” Dino said testily.

“Next time, just hang up on her.”

“Trouble is, I didn’t,” Dino said.

“How long did you talk?”

“Not long. She wanted to come over to my place.”

“She may be a sociopath, but she’s not crazy. Why would she want to risk that?”

“Maybe because she believed I wouldn’t turn her in.”

Stone cleared his throat of the bourbon he had nearly inhaled. “Why would she believe that?”

“Because I didn’t turn her in.”

“Wait a minute, Dino, are you saying that she came to your apartment?”

Dino just nodded.

“And you didn’t call anybody? Nine-one-one, the FBI, anybody?”

Dino shook his head.

“Listen to me, pal, you need to take a hike to the nearest post office and take a look at the ten-most-wanted list. You won’t have any trouble finding her there, she’s right at the top.”

“You think I don’t know that, Stone?”

“I know you, Dino, and I know that you are all cop, that you would turn in your mother if she was wanted for five murders.”

Dino shrugged. “I wasn’t all that crazy about my mother.”

“But you’re crazy about Shelley Bach?”

“That’s about the size of it,” Dino said disconsolately.

“Funny, I never noticed that when we met her in Washington.”

“You didn’t notice, because you were in your room screwing Holly Barker while Shelley and I were in my room, fucking our brains out. We didn’t have all that much opportunity to talk.”

“I suppose that’s so,” Stone agreed. “We were both pretty busy at the time.”

“Busier than I’ve ever been in my whole life,” Dino said. “We were fucking at least twice a day every day we were there.”

“That’s a tough schedule, Dino. You’re in better shape than I thought.”

The headwaiter summoned them for their table, and they followed him into the back room, where they were seated.

“Tell me,” Stone said, “in the moments when you weren’t raping each other, what did you talk about? Did Shelley even mention the murders?”

“Nope. It’s like they never happened. I asked her how she got away so clean, and she said that she had started making arrangements not long after we arrived in D.C. She’s a very smart woman. You know that guy from Boston, Whitey Bulger, that the FBI caught not long ago?”

“Sure, it was all over the TV and the papers.”

“The FBI spent sixteen years hunting him, and she worked on the case for the last couple of years. I think she learned a lot about how fugitives disappear.”

“I guess getting lost is an art,” Stone said.

“You bet your ass it is. Just think about all the ways there are to get caught these days, what with cell phone tracing and security cameras everywhere and the Internet. It doesn’t seem possible that somebody could just get lost, but that’s what she’s done.”

“But now she’s made a mistake,” Stone pointed out. “She’s contacted you.”

Dino shook his head slowly.

“Dino, do I need to point out that abetting a fugitive can end your career and get you some serious time? What are you going to do if she kills somebody else? Then you’re in deep shit.”