Day 10 - Past due

Bernie stared at the TV slack-jawed. In spite of the hasty dispatch of his cleaning crew, someone had placed a 911 call and when the cops and paramedics finally arrived they immediately began a canvass of the building. A witness who had been in the lobby described to police two men entering the building together, that they seemed to be arguing just before the 911 call.

Bernie recognized both descriptions. Reports of shouting and what sounded like a struggle also made the evening news along with the name of the apartment occupant, a Karen Winsett. Reg's demise was justice. Jorge's arrest, a consequence of his penchant for trying to threaten witnesses instead of fleeing the scene, was a setback, but his handling of Julie would now go undiscovered.

Now Bernie realized his only source of funds for the debt was Cynthia, and he congratulated himself for at least getting that nailed down. Nailed down... the analogy made him chuckle. When he had first advised her of his intentions, she had divulged her earlier strategy in trying to protect the trust, hoping to exclude herself from responsibility.

He recalled her reaction... along with his when he heard the name of Christopher Wallace. A knock at his office door brought him around and he yelled for his man to come in. Dark, greasy and evil looking with an outmoded, double-breasted, wide-lapelled suit and a ridiculous snap-brimmed fedora, Carmen Rigoli resembled one of the thugs portrayed by movie villain Sheldon Leonard, in the forties.

He swaggered to the front of the desk and adjusted the knot in his tie.

"I need you to find a dame named Karen Winsett. You might look up a P.I. named Christopher Wallace at the same time; he might just have some information." Bernie gave his man all the particulars of the surrounding events and then cautioned him that he did not want any more killing. The girl was to be brought to Bernie intact.

Carmen rolled out of the office confidently. A machine with the power switch turned on.

Bernie picked up the phone and placed another call to his lawyer to get Jorge out of jail. There was no question that it couldn't be accomplished. He lit his habitual cigar and dragged deeply. The meeting with Cynthia at the Dunbar streamed through his mind in slow motion replay.

●○●○●○●○●

Cynthia arrived at the Dunbar in her huge dark glasses and wide-brimmed hat, stepping quickly to the elevator bank and boarding with several other passengers. At the seventeenth floor she exited and waited until the doors closed then made her way to Bernie's room, tapping nervously on the door.

"Right on time," he said, backing away as she hurried inside. "I like that. Gimme your coat." She complied and went straight to the window, scouring the street below for any sign of having been followed.

"Something wrong?"

"No. No, I just- I don't usually meet men in hotel rooms." She came back from the window and took the drink he was offering.

"But this is different, right?" He leered and took a long swallow from his glass.

Cynthia sipped hers and looked at him. "Why did you want me here?"

"First of all, I want you to tell me face to face about your finances again along with this so-called letter of litigation. I like to see people's eyes when they're making excuses."

"It wasn't an—"

"Don't interrupt. You asked a question, I'm answering. Secondly, I want to see something that represents good faith in the negotiation you suggested."

Her focus blurred as he began taking off his jacket. "Good faith?" His shirt was next, and Cynthia felt her knees go watery.

"Yeah, good faith. Now let's see some." He tossed his shirt aside and took the glass from her limp fingers. The next few moments were almost dreamlike - or in Cynthia's mind a nightmare. Her clothes were pulled off and she was hauled into the big bedroom and pushed back onto the bed with little or no ceremony.

When it was over, Bernie slapped her on the rump and congratulated her for being a fine example of good faith then he tossed her a robe and left the room. She lay staring at the ceiling, gathering the robe about her neck as warm tears slid down her face. Cynthia was glimpsing a very unhappy future.

●○●○●○●○●

Karen paced back and forth on the ugly carpet of the room at the Howden that Rory had arranged for her until we formed a plan. Rory also managed to procure a temporary wardrobe for her, since she had nothing but the clothes on her back. Her mood was one of anger, exasperation and pessimism.

"I never mentioned you and neither did he." I was lying on one of the beds, which had been shoved to the far wall, leaving Karen the most space. "I don't really even know what he wanted, except to find out why Cynthia hired me in the first place. I think he was just on a fishing trip."

"He told you that the trust was in litigation?"

"He said, would be in litigation, and since the end of the month has come and gone, I gather he's less than thrilled with having to do that. Bravo Consulting will get a real shaking out, both in the courts and in the media. Who knows what the board might decide about control."

"I wouldn't bet on that," she said cryptically.

"Meaning?"

"His father is no fool. He knows by now that most of the money was embezzled and that no court would force him to pony up the funds until all the audits and investigations were completed. I'll bet Smithee knew what Reg was doing, that's why he was seeing Julie. He would have passed that on. Ellington Bravo probably has machinery being wheeled into place already."

"You mean a counter-attack."

"Sure. Wouldn't you? But I bet it's behind the scenes, not in public. And ten'll get you twenty Reg Devers will be hung with the entire fraud. Who better to blame than a dead man?"

"He told me something else, something that does not help our situation."

She turned and froze him with a glare. "Now what?"

I told her about Cynthia and Bernie and the fact that she would be hard-pressed not to tell him anything he wanted to know... including her hiring of me.

"So now we're both in the same boat."

"It would seem." I bounced off the bed and wandered to the window, parting the blind and leaning closer. "Karen, what do you think of that guy down there?"

She came up beside me and followed my finger to the man leaning on a car across from the hotel.

"Oh shit, that's another one, isn't it?" She shouted. I pulled her away from the window.

"How—?"

"Same way I found all you people, you just ask around. Nobody's private. You spread a little cash and connect the dots. Anyway, I don't think that's important right now. Right now we have to think about what we're going to do." I sat back down on the bed and tried to think.

"What if we contacted Ellington Bravo and told him the whole story?" Karen began throwing out thoughts and then paused. "If he is planning something to thwart the litigation, maybe we could join his team."

"Why would he want us?"

"Because of what I could testify to about Jarmon and Lawrence. So could you for that matter, about Cynthia anyway.

"What if he just calls the police?"

"Wallace, I don't bloody well know! We have to do something. What do you suggest?"

I didn't like the idea, but then I didn't have one of my own and I didn't want to look wimpy in our situation; Mike hammer would have just gone down to the street and kicked the shit out of the guy. Christopher Wallace decided to go along. "Okay, but we go together, no splitting up."

"Absolutely." I liked her even more. None of those stupid moves like the movie heroines. "I have to change before we go." She snapped, and then took a deep breath, halting in front of the window and staring down at the street.

"Okay." I said I'd call Rory and tell him our plan.