5 Bad Moon (5 page)

“Madeleine Cummings,” she said, and offered her hand to Ivers. “I was told I could find you here.”

Ivers shook her hand. “I didn’t expect you until Monday. Welcome to New York, Agent Cummings.”

Gibbons raised an eyebrow.
Agent
Cummings?

“I prefer
Dr
. Cummings, sir.”

Ivers nodded. “Of course.” He was smiling, which was unusual. He usually disdained correction from underlings.

“I arrived last night,” she said. “No sense in my wasting the weekend when I could be getting acquainted with my new assignment.”

Ivers smiled and nodded, proud of the new kid in class. Gibbons was waiting for her to pull a polished apple out of her purse to put on his desk.

“You must be Agent Tozzi,” Cummings said. Her gaze sank from Tozzi’s face to his bare foot. “I’m sorry to hear about your injury.”

She didn’t sound very sorry.

Tozzi reached up and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Ivers extended his arm to bring Gibbons and Lorraine into the circle. “Dr. Cummings, this is Agent Cuthbert Gibbons and Lorraine Bernstein.”

Gibbons instinctively clenched his jaw at the sound of his first name. He hated it, and he hated having to explain to people that he hated it. He preferred to be called Gibbons, just Gibbons, but he decided not to bother setting Dr. Cummings straight. He wouldn’t be seeing much of her since he never had much contact with people outside of the Organized Crime Unit, thank God.

Cummings shook his hand, then took Lorraine’s. “And may I ask what your interest is here, Ms. Bernstein?”

Lorraine was thrown off by the bluntness of her question. “Well
…
I’m Gibbons’s wife and Michael’s cousin.”

“I see.” Dr. Cummings turned back to Ivers, dismissing the husband-and-wife team.

“And by the way,” Lorraine added, “that’s
Professor
Bernstein.” Lorraine flashed her cordial de’ Medici smile.

Dr. Cummings’s head snapped back around. She offered a small smile of her own, nodding in approval.

“Dr. Cummings is with the Bureau’s Behavioral Science Unit at Quantico,” Ivers explained. “She’s going to be with us for a while.”

“To analyze Tozzi?” Gibbons smiled like a crocodile. “I always said he needed his head examined.”

Tozzi gave him the drop-dead stare. “I never heard you say that.”

“You never listen.”

“Actually, gentlemen,” Cummings said, “my specialty is aberrant psychology that expresses itself in compulsively violent manifestations.”

Gibbons exhaled a laugh. “Sounds like my partner’s last job evaluation.”

Lorraine shot him the hairy eyeball. That meant she wanted him to behave. She couldn’t pick on Tozzi in front of company so she probably figured she had to make do with picking on her husband because she could do that without talking, just dirty looks and signals. It’s a skill wives seem to develop naturally. Give her a few more years and she’d be using mental telepathy to chew him out, screaming into his head from out of the blue. It was too bad he loved her so much. Love can be a goddamn liability sometimes.

“Dr. Cummings is here as part of an internal exchange program the Bureau has instituted,” Ivers said. “Agents who normally work in the labs or at desk jobs will be getting some field experience in order to get a better understanding of how the system functions as a whole. Dr. Cummings will be working as a street agent for the next six weeks, getting a feel for the front line, as it were.”

Ivers and Cummings smiled and nodded, apparently pleased with each other. Gibbons nodded, but he wasn’t smiling. Another bullshit program from the brass in Washington. Let the executive agents tour the trenches for a month and a half so they’ll have something to talk about at their Georgetown dinner parties. Grade-A bullshit.

“I had planned to put Dr. Cummings with Robertson and Kelso,” Ivers said, “but since Tozzi will be on sick leave for at least a month, I think I’ll let her partner with you, Bert.”

Gibbons face went slack. “What?”

“Yes.” Ivers nodded, confirming his own decision. “It makes sense in terms of manpower allotment. By the time Tozzi is ready to return to duty, Dr. Cummings’s stint here will almost be up.” Ivers smoothed the lapels of his camel sport jacket, proud of himself, the prick.

Gibbons’s stomach growled. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea. You can’t just slot anybody into an LCN investigation. I’m working full-time on the Mistretta rubout, for chrissake. This is no time for on-the-job training. I’ve got informants who trust me. They see a new face, they’ll clam right up. How’m I gonna get anything done with her hanging around?”

Cummings raised her chin and clasped her hands behind her back. “Agent Gibbons, do you think I’ll be an impediment to your La Cosa Nostra investigation because I’m a woman or because I’m black?”

Gibbons bared his teeth. “You’ll be an impediment because you don’t know a goddamn thing about working the street.”

She stared him in the eye, absolutely expressionless. “My race and sex have nothing to do with it?”

He stared back. “Your race and sex have everything to do with it. A wiseguy won’t think twice about whacking a black chick. To those people, you’re worth about as much as used coffee grounds.”

“Gibbons!” Lorraine’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. The usual outrage of the politically correct.

“I’m just telling you the way it is out there. They know who I am, and they know not to dick around with a fed. They don’t know who the hell you are, Cummings. And
these
sunny Italians don’t welcome visitors with open arms.”

“Well, you can introduce me.” She was very confident. “Once they know I’m a fed, they won’t
dick
with me either.” She cussed like a college girl smoking in front of her parents for the first time. Look at me, I’m a grown-up.

“Bert, I can’t think of a better man to put with Dr. Cummings than you,” Ivers said. “You’re the most senior agent in the field office.”

Gibbons bristled.

Tozzi was snickering, his bare foot crossed over his knee. Gibbons glared at him. Another asshole. This was his fault. If he hadn’t let himself get shot, Ivers would never have thought of this.

Gibbons was itching to yell at someone, but considering the company, he decided he might do better if he took a rational tack. “Look, Doc, no offense to you, but I just can’t afford to have you standing around collecting data while I’m trying to figure out who ordered the hit on Sabatini Mistretta. It’ll be dangerous for you, and counterproductive for me. I’m sorry, but what I do is not a game for intellectuals.”

“Obviously.”

Gibbons scowled at her placid face. Bad enough he was married to a female egghead, he didn’t need another one around his neck on the job.

A skinny Hispanic kid came into the room pushing an empty wheelchair. “I’ll be back for you in five minutes,” he said to Tozzi. “I just have to get the nurse with your release papers.” After the orderly left, Tozzi hauled himself out of the chair, using one of his crutches like a pole. Gibbons noticed that he’d slipped his shoe on without the sock.

Ivers moved over next to Gibbons and spoke into his ear. “I’m sorry, Bert, but this is from Washington. It’s out of my hands, really. Just bear with it for a few weeks and I’ll see what I can do.”

Gibbons chewed on his upper lip. He knew exactly what Ivers would do—the usual, nothing.

Cummings watched Tozzi wincing and twisting to get comfortable in the wheelchair. “May I ask you something, Agent Tozzi?”

“Sure. What?”

“Where will you be convalescing?”

“You mean, where am I going now?”

“Yes.”

Tozzi shrugged. “Home. Where else would I be going?”

She looked to Ivers. “Do you think that’s wise? The attacker exhibited deadly force with Agent Tozzi. Suppose his intention was murder. A determined personality will pursue his or her target until the goal has been achieved.”

Ivers raised his eyebrows. “You’ve got a good point.”

Lorraine covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God
…
”

Tozzi shook his head. “The guy was just a mugger. No one’s out to get me.”

“But you don’t know that for sure.”

“Well, no, you can’t be absolutely sure about anything, but logically—”

“Dr. Cummings is right,” Ivers interrupted. “I’ll put a man at your apartment for a while.”

Cummings adjusted her glasses. “If you’re suffering a genuine manpower shortage, you probably don’t want to lose another body to mere guard duty. I have an alternative suggestion.”

“Yes?”

“I’m borrowing an apartment just a few blocks from here from an old Barnard classmate of mine.”

Gibbons glanced at Lorraine. Her face lit up when she heard Barnard. Old school tie and all that crap. Cummings would be all right in her book now.

“Tozzi can stay at my friend’s apartment while he’s recuperating and I’ll stay at his place.”

Tozzi shook his head. “I really don’t think that’ll be necessary. No.”

Ivers rubbed his chin. “You just ticked off a whole laundry list of mobsters who might want to see you dead. Maybe your attacker
was
sent to kill you. As you said, you can’t be absolutely sure about anything.”

“Believe me,” Tozzi said. “This guy was not a shooter. If he was a pro, he wouldn’t have wasted any time. It would’ve happened so fast I wouldn’t have known he was there.”

Cummings folded her arms. “Maybe they’ll send someone better the next time.”

Tozzi dug the crutch into the floor like a paddle and turned the wheelchair to face her. “It’s very nice of you to offer, Dr. Cummings, but what about you? What if some guy does show up at my place looking for me and he finds you instead? You think he’s just gonna go away?”

“Well—” Cummings had an answer, but Lorraine cut her off.

“You could stay at our house, Dr. Cummings. We have room.”

Gibbons just looked at her. If Ivers hadn’t been standing between them, he would’ve strangled her on the spot. He hated having houseguests, and Lorraine knew that.

“I couldn’t impose, Professor Bernstein.”

Gibbons’s chest was heaving. You’re damn right you can’t impose. Not in my fucking house.

Lorraine smiled sweetly and shook her head. “It won’t be an imposition. We were already planning to have Michael stay with us, but this way I think it’ll work out better for everyone. Michael will be able to recuperate safely with his precious independence intact, and Gibbons will be able to prep you in the evenings for the next day’s work. It’ll be total immersion for you.”

Gibbons bared his teeth. I’ll give you total immersion, the both of you. Total fucking immersion till I don’t see any more bubbles coming out of your mouths.

“Why don’t we think this over,” Gibbons said.

Ivers shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Does this sound viable to you, Tozzi?”

Tozzi looked disgusted. “All I want to do is go home and take it easy by myself for a while. I know my place in Hoboken is gonna be a lot quieter than anyplace in Greenwich Village. More conducive to rest. And I have a hard time sleeping in unfamiliar places. You know what I mean?”

“You can rest fine in the Village,” Ivers said. “Try it for a few days and see how it goes.” Ivers’s tone made it clear that Tozzi didn’t have any options.

“But I—”

“Tozzi! Thank God you’re still here.”

Stacy Viera tripped into the room, tits first. She was wearing a black motorcycle jacket over shiny aerobics tights with wide red-and-white diagonal stripes—a life-size candy cane with boobs and gams. She whipped that curly mass of bronze hair over her shoulder as she squatted down on her heels to get on Tozzi’s level in the wheelchair. The ass end wasn’t bad either.

“I’m glad I caught you before you checked out. Roy told me they took you here to St. Vincent’s. I wanted to come see how you were doing, but they just told me at the nurses’ station that you were checking out. Don’t you think you should stay here for a few more days? Roy said he thought you lived alone. You shouldn’t be going home to an empty house. Loneliness creates bad energy, and that slows healing.”

“Oh, really?” Lorraine was looking down at her with the schoolmarm face.

Cummings looked sideways at Lorraine. “Bad energy?”

Ivers coughed and covered his mouth. He was trying not to stare down Stacy’s cleavage.

“Gee
…
it was nice of you to worry about me, Stacy. I, ah, appreciate it.”

She was gazing into his eyes. “I’m
very
concerned about you. You were shot, for God’s sake.”

“Well
…
yeah.” Tozzi was flummoxed. He didn’t know how to respond to all this concern. When he noticed all the eyes staring down at Stacy, he quickly started to make introductions. “Stacy, this is my boss, Brant Ivers. You know Gibbons. This is my cousin Lorraine. And this is Dr. Madeleine Cummings.”

“Hi!” Stacy stood up and flipped the hair over her shoulder. She did it that way models do, real loose and sexy.

Gibbons was having a hard time not staring at her himself, but the girl really was something to see.