Notorious (17 page)

Phone taps,
Melanie thought.
Maybe Atari's cooperation was real after all. Maybe Diamond overheard something and squealed to Abdullah.

“I can't believe Lester tolerated this situation,” she said.

“I told you, Evan had something on him about this Charity Bishop thing that had never come to light before. He was doing his best to get rid of the bugs, but he didn't want to go to the police about it. Anyway, I showed up at the town house Friday at three o'clock so Brenda and I could talk before the FBI arrived. The ambulance was already out front. I went into the foyer and talked to the cops. The guy told me Brenda OD'd, that the house was sealed off, and that the family had the situation under control. I'm thinking, family, what family? The only family Brenda had was Les. Then I'm standing downstairs in the hallway, and I hear Evan upstairs schmoozing the police.”

They were both silent for a moment, thinking about the implications of that.

“None of this is proof, you know,” Melanie said.

“I understand that. If it was, I would've come to you sooner.”

“Diamond's office is downstairs, so there's an innocent explana
tion for his presence in the building at the time of the OD. As for family, maybe the police meant Philippe. Maybe he was here already for his father's funeral.”

“No. I know it wasn't Philippe, because I picked him up myself at the airport the following morning.”

“Diamond killed Brenda to shut her up?”

“That's what I think. But like you said, none of this is proof. Cookie?” he asked, pushing the plate toward her.

Melanie had finished her cheeseburger but she was still hungry. She could feel the lost pounds piling right back onto her hips, but she couldn't help herself. Life was too damn stressful.

“Thank you.” She broke off a piece and munched on it.

“So what are you going to do with my information?” Adelman asked.

“Whatever I can. But given the lack of hard evidence, and the Briggs trial in two weeks, that might not be very much at the moment.”

“Oh, right,” Adelman said, nodding.
“Briggs.”

“You said you had some background on the case for me?”

“You may already know this, but Evan used to represent Atari Briggs.”

“I didn't know. When?”

“Long time ago. Back in the early nineties, when Atari was on his way up in the drug business in East New York. I'm surprised this isn't institutional knowledge in the U.S. Attorney's Office. You people have too much turnover.”

Melanie grabbed Adelman's sleeve. “Bob, this is important. What case did Diamond represent him on?”

“Oh, it wasn't just one case. Evan was house counsel to Atari's organization. They were thick as thieves.”

J
ennifer Lamont had a
meeting scheduled with Evan Diamond at five o'clock to review stipulations, and all day it'd been the only thing on her mind. She'd been daydreaming about it continuously with a sappy smile on her face—that is, up until the moment she sat at counsel table and watched him nearly lick the ear of that fat, ugly courtroom deputy. Now she thought she'd spit on the floor if she ever saw the man again.

Jennifer was sitting in Susan's office, listening to Papo West on the speakerphone. They were talking about the need to send a team to Las Vegas immediately to track down Kevin Bonner, the possible backup witness in the case. Jennifer made a mental note of the name, thinking how much Evan would like to know it, and how he wasn't going to get a thing from her now.

“One of you guys needs to come with me, you know,” Papo was saying. “We've got a turf problem. That's not an agent issue. Only a prosecutor can work out jurisdiction.”

“Take Melanie. Jennifer's too junior, and as chief, I'm needed here.”

“As chief, you can pull rank,” Papo said.

Susan laughed. “You got me.”

“Prosecutors
. Who the hell runs away from a free trip to Vegas?”

“Turf wars make me crazy. I'd end up shooting somebody,” Susan said.

“Out there it's legal to shoot anybody who pisses you off. That's the beauty of it.”

“Melanie will handle this as well as I ever could. I'll let her know.”

“All right.”

They said their good-byes and hung up.

Jennifer looked at her watch. “I need to call Evan Diamond's office and cancel that meeting about the stipulations.”

“Cancel? Why would you cancel?” Susan asked.

“Oh, well,” Jennifer said, blushing, “with the trial postponed, I just assumed—”

“Don't assume. We need those stipulations signed. I'd be worried he'd change his mind. You call him right now and make sure it's still on.”

 

W
hen Evan Diamond showed up—forty minutes late—Jennifer went out to the guard's station to meet him. Looking into his opaque black eyes gave her a thrill that distracted her from her jealous fury. This was going to be tougher than she thought.

“Come in, Evan,” she said coldly, squaring her shoulders.

She walked ahead of him back to her office. They didn't speak. She crossed the threshold first, leaving the door gaping open, and retreated behind her desk, gesturing for him to sit in the guest chair.

“I've prepared the stipulations we discussed,” Jennifer said, keeping her voice impersonal. “I'll show them to you, and if you have any objections, please let me know. I'd like to resolve any disagreements
and get everything signed now so we know what witnesses to call.”

His face fell. “You're upset. You're upset at how I talked to the courtroom deputy. Baby, I'm so sorry. Swear to God, that meant nothing.”

Jennifer hadn't anticipated that he'd apologize, or that he'd even care, or that her coldness might have the power to hurt him. The look on his face weakened her defenses.
And
he'd called her baby. She loved that word.

“You practically had your tongue in her ear,” she said, but her tone was pleading rather than angry.

“Believe me, I can't stand the sight of her, but I have to try a case in that courtroom. If you don't suck up to her, she punishes you. You gotta understand, I have a client to think about. This says nothing about my feelings for you.”

Jennifer experienced a brief moment of sanity. Her door was open. “We shouldn't be talking like this.”

“Not here. You're right.” He leaned forward, dropping his voice to a near whisper. “Is anything else upsetting you? Did somebody say something against me?”

“Yes, somebody said something,” she scolded. “They think you ordered the attack on Vashon Clark. They're investigating.”

“They're investigating
me
?”

His eyes narrowed, and Jennifer saw the enormity of what she'd just done. She'd breached every rule of confidentiality. She'd told a target he was being investigated. She'd joined the enemy.

“Yes,” she said.

His voice was low and urgent. “That's going to happen. They'll come after me because I'm a threat. And they'll tell you every sort of evil thing about me. I swear to you, Jennifer, none of it is true.”

“No?”

“Of course not.”

“You didn't have Vashon attacked? Because getting him out of the way certainly helps your case.”

“Is he badly hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he now?”

She went hot all over. Was he just using her? “Uh, uh—I—”

“Never mind, don't answer that. I never want you to think that I'm using you. Listen, baby, attacks like that happen every day on the inside. It had nothing to do with me.”

Jennifer didn't believe him. But to her astonishment, she found she didn't care.

“Let's get the stipulations signed,” she said. “Then maybe we can figure out a way to talk alone.”

M
elanie was so tired
that she could barely see, and though she managed to unlock the front door of her apartment with one hand while holding numerous legal folders and a big stack of mail with the other, she tripped over the threshold and dropped everything just inside the front door. She nearly burst into tears, that's how ragged her nerves were, but the light spilling from the living room cheered her up. Not only did she have a kid, she had a kid sister, and Linda had come by to babysit Maya tonight after Yolie left.

Melanie collected her things and went to see her sister in the living room. Linda was splayed out on the sofa, her legs in black tights up on the sofa back as she talked on the telephone. Always the fashion queen, she was wearing a Pucci minidress with lots of chains and bangles, so that she made a lovely tinkling sound every time she moved.

“Hola, mami, dáme un besito,”
Linda said.

Melanie blew her a kiss. “How long you gonna be?”

Linda held her manicured thumb and forefinger an inch apart. Melanie took this as a signal to go lose the suit she'd been wear
ing since seven o'clock this morning. But first she needed to stop in Maya's room.

The light from the hallway shone on the little girl snuggled against the wall, surrounded by stuffed animals, her dark lashes lying against lustrous skin. Melanie reached out and stroked her daughter's hair, and Maya shifted and sighed in her sleep, her eyelids fluttering. The breathless pang of love and guilt was like a stitch in Melanie's side. Week after week and month after month, she couldn't find enough time for Maya. A few hours on a good night—what kind of life was that for a mother and child? She knew she needed to make some changes, but
which
changes exactly—well, that continued to elude her.

Back in the living room after donning her bathrobe, Melanie found Linda still on the phone.

“No way I'm paying that for some shit hole with no pool. I want to be in South Beach anyway.” Linda caught sight of Melanie. “Teresa, let me call you in the morning. Mel's here, and I have to get the latest scoop on my lover boy, Atari. Ciao, baby.” Linda swung her legs around and sat up.

“How's my hottie?” was the first thing she said.

“He's a drug dealer and a killer, just like the last time you asked.”

Melanie plopped down on the sofa beside Linda.

“I try to care about that, Mel, but I just can't. Those eyes, that body, mmm,
mamacita, le amo
. Did you tell him I'm his fangirl?”

“That didn't come up.”

“What about the interview? Did you ask him yet? I'm gonna wear my Versace. It takes a serious outfit to make a man like Atari Briggs sit up and take notice.”

“I hate to break it to you, but given that I'm about to put him behind bars for the rest of his life, he's not likely to grant my sister an interview.”

Linda was an entertainment correspondent for a local cable TV show.

“You know if you win that trial, every woman in America will hate you, right? Including me.”

“If he's convicted, won't that tarnish his image?”

“Tarnish? It'll just give him street cred. We'll love him all the more, and be very mad at you.”

“I try to care about that, Lin, but I just can't.”

“Loca!
Don't you love his music?”

“Honestly, I've never even heard it.”

“That's foolish if you ask me. You know he raps about the life, right? I bet there's evidence for your case in there and you're totally ignorant of it.”

Melanie looked at her sister with a spark of interest. “Seriously?”

“Hell, yeah. Every track on
Myrtle Avenue Mayhem
is a different murder. He raps about packing drugs, his money-counting machine, his favorite guns. What's your case about again, exactly?”

“A hit Atari ordered on a guy named Little D, who was selling his own product at Atari's spot.”

“Hmm. There's a track on
Back in the Day
called “D Is for Dead” that sounds right. Let me see.” She tapped out a beat on the coffee table with her fingernails. “It's like this. ‘You take one real clean in the back of the head, your blood in the street, your brains on the concrete.' I'm blanking on the rest.”

Melanie looked stunned. “You say that's called ‘D Is for Dead'?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Little D was shot in the back of the head and left to die in the street.”

“See, there you go. Atari's music is so relevant.”

“Do you own that CD?”

“I have all his stuff on my iPod. If you want, give me your MP3 and I'll download it for you.”

“That would be great.”

“I help you, you help me to get the interview,” Linda said with an ingratiating smile.

“Ugh, you don't get it.”

“C'mon, I'm kidding. You look tired,
chica
.” She patted the sofa. “Put your feet up here.”

Melanie swung her feet around, and Linda began massaging them.

“Oh, you are
such
a good sister,” Melanie said, throwing her head back. “Tell me you're not leaving, puh-lease. Maybe you won't find an apartment. Then you'll have to stay.”

Linda had just been offered a job as a weekend anchor at a network affiliate in Miami. It was a huge break, the one she'd been waiting for. But hard as Melanie tried to feel happy for her sister, she couldn't get past the fact that she was losing her best friend.

“Oh, I'll find a place,” Linda said. “And I am leaving. Sorry.”

“But it's only temporary, right?”

“Sweetie, it's for as long as it takes.” Linda regarded Melanie steadily, then reached out and placed her hand on Melanie's. The gesture was so full of sympathy, of pity even, that Melanie immediately suspected something was up.

“What?” she demanded.

“I might as well tell you now, since we're on the subject. Mom has some news, but she's too chicken to tell you herself.” Linda paused, grimacing.

“You're giving me a heart attack.”

“Mel, she's getting older. She's ready to retire.”

Melanie sat up instantly. “She's going with you?”

“I tried to talk her out of it. But remember last month when I went to interview and she came along for the weekend? She went crazy for the place.”

“How could you do this to me?”

“Me? You think I
want
to move to Miami with a sexy new job and bring my mother? Please! She'll be so in my way. There was nothing I could do, honest.”

Linda's news came at the worst possible moment. Dan leaving, Lester dying in front of her, the case falling apart, the trial bearing down on her, and now this. Melanie thought of Maya, lying so innocent under the covers in the back bedroom, completely unaware that her little world was about to change. Her grandma and her aunt were a big part of her life.

“You're not just leaving me, you're leaving Maya. How can you abandon her?”

“Don't get all dramatic on me. Maya has the best mommy in the world. And Yolie is a fantastic babysitter. You can come visit, and if that's not good enough, there's an obvious answer.”

“What's that?”

“Move with us. I could totally see you there. It's a happening place, sis, and there's a real-estate bust on. You could pick up a great condo, cheap.”

“I can't move.”

“Why not? How bad do you complain about life up here, huh? Your job is killing you. You have no time for Maya. You hate the weather. You're miserable.”

“I love my job. As for Maya, of course I want more time with her. But that wouldn't be any different in Miami. I'd have to work just as hard.”

“You'd love it there.”

“Lin, stop. There are so many reasons I can't move that I can barely count them all. Steve lives here and we have a custody agreement. I could go on and on. Anyway, I don't have time to discuss this any more right now.”

“Why not?”

“I'm leaving for Las Vegas tomorrow on a case, and I have to pack. And since you and Mom are ruining
la pequeña
's life by abandoning us, you can watch her for me at night till I get back.”

 

T
en minutes after Linda left, as Melanie was in the middle of packing a suitcase, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Is she gone?” Dan asked.

“Is who gone?”

“Your sister.”

“How'd you know she was here? Are you having me watched?”

“Christ, no. I called before, and she answered, that's all. She didn't tell you?”

“No, but don't take it personally. Linda doesn't do messages.”

“Believe me, this was personal. She gave me an earful. Whatever you told her about me, she hates my fucking guts.”

“I told her about you and Diane. And yes, that would make her hate your guts.”

“Did you tell her I didn't go through with it? That I came straight to you and confessed, and—”

“Dan, I'm not interested enough in this topic to waste my breath discussing it with you. Is there something else you want to say? Otherwise this conversation is over.”

The connection was good. She heard his aggrieved sigh loud and clear.

“I'm trying to pass along some information that might help you.”

“Fine, I'm listening.”

“The tip the dead lawyer gave you about Gamal Abdullah is not panning out.”

“Meaning what?”

“Abdullah's not moving around Spain under the alias Sebastien Calais. We can't find any evidence of that alias ever being used or even associated with his organization. Abdullah's not in Spain as far as we can tell. He's not anywhere else in Europe, and hasn't been for some time. Our information is, he was in Pakistan for a while, and—get this—he's believed to've died in an explosion that went down in a bomb factory there several months ago.”

“Gamal Abdullah is
dead
?”

“That's what we think, but keep it on the down low. Nobody knows we know he's dead. If they knew we knew, it would burn our source.”

“Okay.”

“What we're hearing is, Abdullah was with his technical guys in a bomb factory in the tribal regions about two months ago when somebody screwed up and connected the wrong wire. Place went up like a Roman candle, took a bunch of the scumbags out. We don't have bodies or DNA. The IDs are based on informant information alone, but this source is considered highly reliable.”

Melanie rubbed her forehead. “I'm trying to think what this could mean,” she said. “Atari Briggs claims he never offered to cooperate against Abdullah, that Lester Poe lied to me. But Lester was assassinated using the same plastic explosives that Abdullah was known to use, which suggests Abdullah killed him to stop the cooperation.”

“Don't make too much of the fact that the explosives match. Anybody with underworld connections can buy those same explosives on the black market.”

“The explosives aren't the only evidence. I had new information today confirming that Diamond bugged Poe's phones. That would explain how the news got to Abdullah that Briggs wanted to cooperate against him. Then, boom, Lester's killed and Evan Diamond takes over the case. The cooperation shuts down. It's a straight shot.
Evan Diamond blabs to Abdullah, then Abdullah orders the hit on Lester to stop the cooperation. Well?”

“I'm telling you, Abdullah was dead already. That lawyer was feeding you bullshit.”

Melanie considered what she'd learned about Lester Poe in the course of the past few days. Brenda shooting up while he partied on. Charity Bishop dying in his swimming pool. Evan Diamond blackmailing him. She hadn't really known the man, had she?

“Anything's possible,” she said.

“Under the circumstances, we're closing down over here and pounding leads closer to home. I'll be back stateside tomorrow.”

Melanie didn't react to that news, and Dan's words hung in the air.

“Question for you,” he said. “Any truth to the rumor you were sleeping with the lawyer?”

“Who told you that?”

“Never you mind. All the way in fucking Spain, I'm hearing this shit.”

“Oh, it must be true, then. God, are you really stupid enough to listen to that BS?”

“How quickly they forget. Yeah, I'm pretty stupid.”

“I'm not talking to you about who I do or don't sleep with, Dan. Now is there anything else?”

“Yes, although I don't know why I still care enough to say it. The leads are closer to home now. Watch your back.”