New York Dead (25 page)

Read New York Dead Online

Authors: Stuart Woods

Tags: #Mystery, #Thriller, #Suspense

BOOK: New York Dead
3.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Teddy pointed at the car phone. “I’ll call you, if I can, when I have some results.” He closed the door and trudged through the snow toward the building, finally disappearing into the entrance.

Stone turned the radio to a jazz station and settled down to wait. Five minutes later the car phone rang.

“Hello?”

“They were in before me, but I think they’re still awake. I can hear music and voices, if I put a water glass against the wall.”

“Take your time,” Stone said. “We’ve got all night, if necessary.”

“It won’t take that long,” Teddy said. “In my experience, people who are fucking illicitly don’t waste much time getting down to it.” He hung up.

Stone turned the heater up a notch, pushed the seat back, and made himself comfortable.

 

A sharp rapping against the window woke him. He was momentarily disoriented, and, by the time he figured out where he was, the rapping came again on the window. The car’s windows were blocked by a blanket of white, and, when he rolled down the driver’s side window, snow fell into the car.

“Teddy?” Stone said to the figure outside the car.

“What’s up, here, mister?” a voice said.

Jesus, a cop. “Oh, Officer, I’m just waiting for a friend,”
Stone said, scrambling around in his sleepy mind for a story.

“You been here half hour, pal,” the cop said. “Let’s see your license and registration.”

“Well, to tell you the truth,” Stone said, “there’s somebody in there with my wife, and I mean to find out who it is. She thinks I’m in Chicago on business.” This was fairly close to the truth.

The cop shook his head. “Listen, pal, let me give you some advice. Go to Chicago, and forget about it, then come back and forgive her. You don’t want to know who the guy is.”

“I’m not breaking any laws, am I—parked outside my own house?” Stone tried to sound annoyed.

“I guess not,” the cop said. “I won’t wish you luck, though.” He turned and waded away through the snow.

Stone took a few deep breaths of fresh air before he raised the window. He looked at his watch: ten past midnight. Teddy had been in there less than an hour. He arranged himself again and settled down to wait, switching on the windshield wipers to clear the snow. As he did, Teddy walked out of the apartment building and started toward the car. He didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry.

“Get in, and let’s get out of here,” Stone said, opening the door for him.

“No hurry,” Teddy said. “Nobody’s going to be following me. Not for a while, anyway.”

“Tell me what happened,” Stone said, guiding the Jeepster up the block through the deep snow.

“You can hear pretty good with a glass against the wall, you know.”

“So what did you hear?”

“I heard the music for a while, and their voices, and then I heard the voices move away, so I figure they’d gone to the bedroom.” He shifted in his seat to get comfortable. “Now, there are two ways you can do this,” he said. “One, you can
wait for them to go to sleep and then wake them up. That’s good enough, really; I mean, you got them in bed together, right? But the best way is to catch them doing the actual horizontal bunny hop. That way, there’s no talking their way out of it.”

“So, what happened?”

“You can hear pretty good with a glass against the wall,” Teddy said again, maddeningly. “I could hear them talking over the music. I reckoned they were sitting in front of the fireplace. But then I heard them move away, so I figure they’re headed for the bedroom, right?”

“And?”

“I was right. That’s where they were going. So I wait, maybe three minutes, and I go in.”

Stone’s heart was in his mouth. “Teddy, for Christ’s sake, tell me what happened.”

“I’m telling you, Stone; just be patient. Anyway, I leave the camera case and my shoes outside the door, I unscrew the bulb in the vestibule, and I go in real easylike with my key, and, right from the front door, I can hear them going at it, you know?”

“Teddy, spit it out. Did you get the shot we need?”

“So, what I do is, I switch on the camera, but not the light, so I’m recording sound, right?”

“All right, Teddy, go on, give me the gory details.”

“Then I tippy-toe to the bedroom door, and there they are in the moonlight. I think it’s probably good enough without the light.”

Stone was alarmed. “You didn’t use the light?”

“So I run a few feet with just the moonlight. The lady’s on top, she’s really taking a ride on the guy, you know? And they’re building up to it. Both of them are sounding like something at the zoo, no kidding. So, I’m grinding away in the moonlight, and they’re grinding away in the bed, and I can tell things are coming to a head, so to speak, so I wait
until just the right moment, when they’re both bellowing like seals, and I hit the light!” Teddy was sounding absolutely delighted with himself.

“Thank God you hit the light.” Stone breathed, his heart pounding.

“Now, tell me, Stone, what’s your first reaction, somebody suddenly shines a bright light on you?”

“Oh, shit,” Stone said. “I’d throw up a hand to shield my eyes. You didn’t get their faces?”

“Stone,” Teddy said, sounding hurt, “you underestimate me.” He held up the water pistol. “That’s where this came in.”

“You shot them with a water pistol?” Stone asked, baffled.

“Right. I mean, here you got these two naked people, they’re on top of the covers, and they’re throwing their hands across their faces to shield their eyes or to keep me from photographing their faces, so with one hand, I give ’em a shot or two with the water pistol, aiming at tender spots like the armpit or the ribs, and, what do they do? Why, they grab at the places I squirted them, don’t they? And they leave their faces exposed, just long enough for me to record them for posterity.”

“Great! Then what happened?”

“Then the guy, who’s on the bottom, remember, tosses the lady in the air, and he starts for me. But I’m outta there, filming all the way, of course, and outside the door I got this little hook that goes one end over the doorknob and the other end hooked to the door molding, so the guy can’t open the door from the inside, right?”

“Wonderful,” Stone said.

“So, I ring for the elevator, and, while it’s coming, and while the guy is trying to break down the door, no doubt bruising his shoulder pretty badly, I slip into my shoes, stick the camera back into its case, and then the elevator comes, I
ride down and walk right out of the building. To make it even nicer, the doorman is asleep!”

“Perfection,” Stone said. “Teddy, you’re a wonder.”

“Of course, our guy is going to have to call downstairs and get the doorman to open the door for him, and that’s going to be just a little embarrassing for him.”

Stone pulled up in front of his house. He reached into a pocket and handed Teddy a thick envelope. “Five thousand, as agreed,” he said.

“I thank you, sir,” Teddy said, glowing. He handed over the case. “Your camera, and your videotape.”

Stone got out of the car, and Teddy drove away. He let himself into the house and called Bill Eggers.

“Jesus, Stone, I haven’t slept a wink. How’d it go?”

“It went perfectly, absolutely perfectly.”

“You’ve seen the tape, then?”

“Well, no, I haven’t; I don’t have a VCR. But my man says he got it all, and he’s a good man.”

“You gave him the five grand without seeing the tape?”

“Take it easy, Bill, it went well, believe me.”

“I hope so, for all our sakes. Meet me at the office at nine tomorrow morning, and we’ll have a little private screening.”

“All right, but don’t worry, Bill. It went well.”

“If you say so,” Eggers said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Stone wearily got undressed and went to bed, but it was his turn not to sleep. If he’d known where to get a VCR in the middle of the night, he’d have gone out and gotten one. He hoped to God that Teddy O’Bannion’s confidence in his own work was not in any way misplaced.

Chapter

38

B
efore leaving the house, Stone shoveled the steps and the sidewalk in front. The weatherman had said there had been eighteen inches of snow over-night, and Stone believed it. He could not remember such silence in the city.

There were no cabs to speak of, and, since the sun was shining brightly anyway, Stone hiked the distance to the offices of Woodman & Weld, walking in the paths broken by buses and the odd cab with chains. The only people in sight seemed to be those who had come out to play. He passed more than one group of adults building snowmen or throwing snowballs at each other. That, and the memory of a task well accomplished, made the day seem festive.

He arrived a little early and waited in the lobby for Eggers. When the lawyer arrived, he introduced Stone to the security guard and had him put on the list for after-hours
entry to the Woodman & Weld offices.

“Jesus,” Eggers said as they rode up in the elevator, “I hope your man did this right. If we don’t have what we need on that tape, it’s going to put my client in a very awkward position. I mean, his old lady will be on her guard, and she could make it tough for him.”

“My man says he got it,” Stone said, “and that’s good enough for me.” At least, until we see the tape, he thought. It was not going to be good for his position with the law firm if the tape was not good.

Eggers unlocked the front door and relocked it behind them. “Take that stuff down to the small conference room,” he said to Stone. “That’s where our video system is. Third door on your right. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Stone went to the conference room, unsnapped the camera case, took out the camera, and pushed the reject button. The cassette fell out into his hand. He turned to the wall of video equipment but wasn’t sure which piece of equipment to use.

Eggers came in. “Pretty impressive, isn’t it? We tape depositions, and we have other capabilities, too. You’ll see in a minute.” He took the cassette from Stone, inserted it into a machine, and flipped a number of switches. Snow filled the screen of a large monitor, then the picture snapped on.

“Here we go,” Stone said, sitting down and resting his elbows on the conference table. “Hey, your camera worked pretty well in the low light. Listen.”

The sound of two people making love came faintly from the bedroom. The camera moved slowly, smoothly across the living room to the bedroom door. The moonlight was as Teddy O’Bannion had described it, bright as day. The figure of a woman was clearly visible, and she was moving rhythmically in sync with the noises heard a moment before. She was sitting on a man, who was also clearly visible, though neither of their faces could be made out.

“This is sensational!” Eggers said wonderingly. “Hang on a second.” He picked up a remote control and froze the frame, then he walked to the wall of equipment and turned on another piece of gear. There was a whirring noise, and, a few moments later, a color photograph slid out of the machine. Eggers looked at it approvingly, then handed it to Stone. “Very artful, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re right,” Stone said. “It’s a beautiful shot, but the faces are shadowed.”

“He did turn on the goddamned light, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but later; hang on.”

Eggers started the tape again. The lovemaking was growing in intensity, and the couple’s voices rose with it. Then, at the moment when both seemed to be reaching a climax, the floodlight came on. Instinctively, both the man and the woman threw up a hand to shield themselves from the light. Eggers froze the frame again and made another print.

“This is where the water pistol comes in,” Stone said.

Eggers stopped what he was doing. “Water pistol?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s how my man gets shots of their faces,” Stone replied. “Watch.”

Eggers started the tape again and pressed the slow motion button. A jet of water could be seen to enter the frame and strike the man in the chest. His hand started down. Another jet struck the woman just below the armpit, and her arm followed, too.

“There! That’s it!” Eggers shouted, freezing the frame. “That’s our shot!” He ran to the printer and pressed the button again.

Stone froze to his chair, unable to move, unable to speak. The man’s face had surprised him, but the woman’s rendered him nearly catatonic. The man was Barron Harkness; the woman was Cary Hilliard.

“Perfect, perfect!” Eggers yelled in triumph, shoving the
print in front of Stone. “You can have that for your scrapbook.” He pressed the button for another print. “The cat’s out of the bag now, though. I’m sorry for my little subterfuge, but I guess you recognize the guy. His wife is my client.”

Stone was unable to speak. His eyes ran up and down the two forms frozen on the screen. Harkness was clearly furious, Cary terrified. Her breasts shone with sweat in the bright light, the nipples erect; her lips were swollen and her eyes round with fright.

“Let’s see the rest!” Eggers cried. “Here we go!” He started the tape again.

Harkness reared up in the bed, upsetting Cary from her perch atop him.

“Jesus, the guy’s hung!” Eggers said admiringly. “And look at the tits on that broad! Shit, I don’t blame the guy!”

The camera backed out of the room as Harkness rose from the bed and came after it. In the nick of time, the front door closed, and the camera wobbled out of control. Teddy’s hand could be seen applying his latch to the knob and the molding.

“An absolute goddamned Academy Award winner!” Eggers yelled, jumping out of his chair and doing a little dance. “Gotta call my client; she’s waiting on tenterhooks.” He grabbed a phone and started dialing. “Stone, you win the Oscar for best producer,” he was saying.

Stone willed himself to move. He shoved the photograph into his overcoat pocket and got shakily to his feet.

“Hello, Charlotte? This is Bill Eggers. My dear, your settlement is assured!” Eggers crowed into the phone. “I’m going to come over to your house right now and show you the videotape that’s going to do it. Hang on a minute…” Eggers looked up to see Stone leaving the room. “Stone, where are you going?”

Other books

Tyrant: Destroyer of Cities by Christian Cameron
The Armchair Bride by Mo Fanning
Play Dead by John Levitt
Heart of a Stripper by Harris, Cyndi
The Vengeance Man by Macrae, John
Rough Justice by Gilda O'Neill