Notorious (12 page)

F
or a place so
far removed from the state of nature, New York City exposed its citizens to the elements like nowhere else. Melanie kept her head down and wrapped her arms tight around the autopsy report as she fought her way through the driving rain to the subway. The walk was several blocks, and when she reached the wide-open avenue, a savage wind nearly knocked her down. Today of all days, she'd forgotten her umbrella. Frigid water droplets rolled off her hair and down the neck of her good wool coat, which smelled like a wet dog. At moments such as this, she wondered how much longer she could stand to live in the city of her birth. She dreamed of a warm place, or at least a place where she could afford to keep a car.

Susan had stuck a yellow Post-it on Melanie's computer asking her to stop by as soon as she got to the office. Melanie dumped her stuff and hurried down the hall to the chief's suite. The legs of her jeans were so wet that they stuck to her skin with every step, and her supposedly waterproof boots made squishy sounds.

Susan, Papo, and Jennifer Lamont were all huddled around the conference table.

“You look like a drowned cat,” Susan said.

“Gee, thanks. What's up?”

“Have a seat, Mel. Papo was telling me you two're looking for this guy Vegas Bo.”

Melanie sat down across from Susan, frowning. Susan, while an easier personality to work for and a closer friend, was more hands-on than Bernadette had been as chief. Melanie preferred to make her own decisions on cases, and this trait in her new boss irritated her considerably.

“Yeah. So?” Melanie asked.

“My view is, it's too late in the game to start hunting down new witnesses.”

Melanie's blood pressure began to rise. She hated when Susan questioned her tactics.

“I'm sorry, but we need him,” she insisted. “Bo's our insurance policy. Didn't you listen to that voice mail I left you? Vashon Clark's been getting threats.”

“Yeah, and you took care of it. You separated him. He should be fine now.”

“What if he's not? Bo was right in the middle of the hit on Little D. He provided Vashon Clark with the gun he used to do the murder, on Atari's orders. It's all on the tape. If we find Bo and flip him, not only is he our safety net if something happens to Vashon, but he could really bolster our case. We both know the jury's gonna eat Atari up. Evan Diamond is smooth as they come. Did you see him on the six o'clock news? If we give him half a chance, he'll have the jury believing his First Amendment BS. Don't you want another witness?”

“Well—uh—I hear you,” Susan said. “I'm just concerned you'll
end up wasting a lot of time on this and not be able to find the guy.”

“Vashon gave us a solid lead on Bo's whereabouts. Papo, give Susan the rundown.”

“I got a couple of agents detailed out of DEA's Las Vegas office to set up surveillance at the location, and they spotted Bo right away. He's got a stash house and mill, but not in Vegas, in this for-shit little town out in the desert called Pahrump. Nothing for miles but whorehouses, meth labs, and tumbleweeds. Bo's running a sizable crew. Between ten and fifteen guys in and out of the location, mostly black males, some Hispanics. I told my boys to set up and take some photos, but the place is so sparsely populated that surveillance is tough. They can't stay put in one place long enough to snap a picture without risking getting made.”

“Even so, that's terrific,” Melanie said, turning to Susan. “They've already located him. We can move quickly on this. Not a problem.”

“We-ell, there is a slight problem. I got a call from the DEA supervisor in Vegas. They want the collar, and they want to take their time and do it right. They don't want us burning the lead by popping Bo prematurely on some ten-year-old murder conspiracy.”

“Well, they can't have the collar,” Melanie insisted. “It's our lead. It's our case.”

“If we have to duke it out with them, we get dragged into a huge time suck, Mel.”

“I'll take care of it. I'll handle the turf negotiations. I'm a deputy chief now. I have the juice. Now that we have Jennifer on board, she can take a few of my minor document witnesses. That should free up my time.”

“I'd be happy to do that,” Jennifer piped up, “or I could approach Mr. Diamond and ask him to stipulate to some of the testimony.”

“We tried that,” Melanie said, shaking her head. “He said no.”

“Sometimes a new face helps,” Jennifer said. “He did a trial before my judge when I was clerking, and we had good rapport.”

“Either way,” Melanie told Susan, “Jennifer buys me some time to track down Vegas Bo. I'm doing it, Susan. We need him as a witness. The case could hang in the balance.”

H
er boxes weren't yet
unpacked or her diplomas hung to put the world on notice of her Ivy League education, but the telephone in Jennifer Lamont's office was now working. That was all she cared about as she slammed the door behind her and sank into her swivel chair. She had a phone, and she had an excuse to call Evan.

She knew exactly the tone she wanted to strike. Professional at first. Not too personal. But just personal enough to remind him of their…encounter on Friday night. She remembered the cold touch of his fingers on her hand, and her pulse started to race. Why, oh why, had she taken hers away just as his started to warm up, to feel like flesh? Nobody would have walked in. Since then, she'd imagined a hundred scenarios for what might've happened next if she hadn't been such a chicken.

Jennifer picked up the receiver, then lost her nerve and let it clatter back into the cradle. Finally, she took a deep breath and punched in the numbers. Her fingers were shaking, but in a delicious, butterflies sort of way.

Voice mail, after all that. Disappointment overwhelmed her, so much that the beep sounded before she was ready.

“Uh, hi, Evan, this is Jennifer Lamont from the U.S. Attorney's Office. I hope you've had a chance to review the discovery I gave you on Friday night. I need to speak to you regarding—”

A loud screech sounded on the line.

“Hey, Dixie.”

“You're there.”

“Sure I am. You think you're the only one with a trial to prepare for?”

“Well, I thought, you know, high-priced firm and all…”

Jennifer felt incoherent, but he picked up the ball and ran with it.

“What? That I have some hotshot associate doing all the heavy lifting? That I'm nothing but a mouthpiece?”

She loved the teasing tone in his voice, did her best to match it.

“I thought you were just another pretty face,” she said.

“Look who's talking.”

“Oh, come on now. You're a flatterer.”

His voice was soft and insinuating as silk. “Don't play coy. You're beautiful, and you know it, too. Long auburn hair, big green eyes, the little freckles across your nose. Mmm, and your body in that nice, tight sweater you were wearing the other night. You're incredible.”

Jennifer couldn't speak for a moment. No man had ever complimented her like that. She'd always thought of herself as ordinary-looking, even mousy. But in Evan's eyes, she was beautiful.

When she'd finally collected herself enough to speak, her voice came out all husky. “You…you shouldn't say those things.”

“Why? Because you like it too much?”

She laughed. “No. Because this is business, and you're opposing counsel, and you're married.”

“Damn, and here I thought you'd be happy to know how I felt. I thought you were calling because you missed me. I miss you, you know.”

“Well, you shouldn't.”

“Shouldn't seems to be your favorite word. I can see I'm going to have to work on eliminating it from your vocabulary.”

“You're right, it is my favorite,” Jennifer said, turning serious. “I'm very attached to it. It's the only way I keep from screwing up all the time. Otherwise…” She trailed off.

“Am I hearing right? Wholesome little Dixie, living life on the edge?”

“Yeah, that's me. I know it doesn't seem that way, but I really do.”

“I'm happy for the company, then. That's where I live.”

“I see that.”

“Of course you do. It's why you like me so much.”

She was struck dumb yet again. He saw right through her.

“Get over yourself,” she said. “How do you even know I like you?”

Now it was his turn to laugh. “Go ahead, fight it. I like a good buildup. But you'll fall in the end. See, I know something about you that you don't even know about yourself.”

“What's that?”

He lowered his voice till she felt like he was whispering right into her ear. “Somebody like you, who lives life on the edge, who feels the power of the dark side? What you really want…”

“Yes?”

“Is for me to pull you in.”

M
elanie and Papo were
sitting in her office literally waiting for the phone to ring. They'd left word for the chief of Narcotics in the Las Vegas U.S. Attorney's Office to call them about Vegas Bo.

“I'm starting to think Susan was right,” Papo said. “We're wasting our time. The guy's never gonna call us back today. It's Sunday.”

“He's lazy.”

“Either that, or we're stupid.”

“If that damn phone company witness wasn't late, at least we'd have something to do while we wait,” Melanie remarked.

Jennifer Lamont tapped on the office door. “Sorry to interrupt. Is it okay if I come in?”

“You're not interrupting,” Melanie said.

“Take a load off,” Papo said, removing his big feet in their scuffed motorcycle boots from the chair next to his.

Jennifer sat down. She cast her eyes downward, which made her look even younger than she was.

“Melanie, you said if I had questions, I should just ask. Hope you don't mind.”

“Of course not.”

“I'm trying to understand the facts better. Who's this new witness I heard you talking about in there?”

“His real name is Kevin Bonner, and he was one of Atari's lieutenants in the drug business. When Atari ordered Vashon to do the hit on Little D, he said Vegas Bo would give Vashon the gun.”

“Do we know where he is?”

“Yes, he's in this town called Pahrump, out in the Nevada desert halfway between Las Vegas and Death Valley. The DEA is setting up on him even as we speak. We're just waiting for a call from the prosecutor to work out the politics.”

“And Bo helps us because…?”

“We could really use another witness with direct knowledge about the hit. When Atari told Bo to give Vashon the gun, he presumably told him why, what it was for. That's great testimony if we can get it. But the bigger issue is, we don't want to hang the whole case on one witness. Right now, we can only get the wiretap tape into evidence if Vashon testifies and the jury believes him. Evan Diamond doesn't know this, but the only other person besides Vashon who can authenticate that tape is the DEA agent who handled the tape recorder ten years ago, and he's in Iraq. My hope is, Bo would be able to authenticate the tape, too. I have a hunch that he was in the room listening when Atari and Vashon had that phone call.”

“So if you lose Vashon, you lose the tape,” Jennifer said.

“Yes, and we lose the whole case, unless we have Vegas Bo in pocket by then.”

Melanie's phone rang. “Excuse me,” she said.

“Melanie Vargas.” Melanie gave Papo a thumbs-up. “Hi, Glen. I have the case agent here with me. I'm gonna put you on speaker.”

“Who'm I talking to?” asked a gruff male voice from the speakerphone.

Melanie glanced at Jennifer and put her finger to her lips.

“Agent Paul West from DEA is here with me. We call him Papo. Papo, this is Glen Begley, chief of Narcotics in the Las Vegas U.S. Attorney's Office.”

“Papo? What kind of criminalistic name is that?” Begley said with a big belly laugh.

Papo smiled. “I'll tell you, scares the bejesus out of the scumbags when they hear it.”

“I'll bet it does. So what can I do for you fine folks on a Sunday that's important enough to interrupt eighteen holes for?”

“We're handling the case against Atari Briggs,” Melanie said.

“Heard of it. I'd have to be living in a pit in the ground to miss that one.”

“There's a witness we need, and we've got a lead on him. He's in your jurisdiction, and we'd like your assistance in placing him under arrest.”

“This is Kevin Bonner you're talking about.”

“Yes. So you know why I'm calling.”

“I've been briefed by our local DEA. But from what they tell me, Bonner belongs to them. He's part of a major ongoing narcotics investigation.”

“Ongoing for one day,” Melanie said. She caught Papo's eye and pointed at the telephone like,
Do you believe this shit?
“Local DEA only knows about this operation because we told them. We gave them the address. They didn't have a clue about it before yesterday.”

“That's not how they tell it. They claim to've had informant information on this Pahrump location going back months.”

Melanie looked at Papo, who shook his head vigorously.

“No way,” Papo said

“They did, son. They showed me the reports,” Begley insisted.

“If they had something, they hadn'a done jack shit with it before yesterday. I know. I talked to Andre Ferris myself, and every word I said was news to him.”

“What we got here is a failure to communicate,” Begley said. “And I have to side with my agents. They're looking to make a case, maybe go up on a wiretap. I can't pull the rug out from under 'em with a premature arrest. I work with these boys every day of the week.”

Melanie hit the mute button and caught Papo's eye.

“Is there any truth to what he's saying?”

“Total bull. Whether the DEA guys are feeding him a line and he's buying it, or whether he's in on it, I can't say. But they're trying to dick us over, plain and simple.”

She took the phone off mute.

“Glen, I'm going to trial in a week. I'm not about to sit on my hands while you build probable cause to steal my target. I'll be faxing you an arrest warrant within an hour for Kevin Bonner, and if you don't execute it right away, I'll have Main Justice on your ass before you know what hit you.”

Begley belly laughed again. “I love New York. Everybody plays hardball.”

Melanie rolled her eyes at Papo. “Is that a yes?” she said into the phone.

“If you feel that strongly. But somebody's got to make it right with DEA. If those boys get mad at me, my business dries up.”

“I'll take care of that,” Papo said. Then under his breath, “I'll punch their fucking lights out is what I'll do.”

“You get them on board, you have my blessing,” Begley said. “All right with you folks if I go back to my golf game?”

“Sure thing,” Melanie said. “Thanks for your time. We'll be in touch.”

“Honey, I'm sure you will.”

Melanie dropped the call. “Can you believe that guy?”

“I can't believe those agents,” Papo said. “Fuckin' snakes, and they're supposed to be my brothers.”

“We need to get an arrest warrant on Bonner right away, and fax
it to Begley before he changes his mind. You have time to sit here and write up a complaint with me?”

“I'm fine, but what about you? Don't you have all those document witnesses coming in?” Papo asked.

“Oh, don't worry about them,” Jennifer exclaimed. “I got Evan Diamond to agree to stipulations.”

“Jennifer, that's amazing,” Melanie said. “Good for you! How'd you manage it?”

“I called and asked him, and he just said yes,” she said with a shrug.

It had really been that easy. He'd said he could never refuse her anything.

“He knows you clerked for Fox, right? And Fox hates it when attorneys won't stipulate. Maybe Diamond was afraid you'd tell your judge on him.”

Jennifer smiled. “That must be it.”