of his safe.”
“You have a point,” Dino said. “But she’ll still come out a winner. She has his apartment and the furnishings. That’s gotta be worth a lot.”
“Do you think Randy really managed to fix horse races?” Stone asked.
“My people checked with the tracks. He hasn’t won more than a thousand bucks in the past three months.”
“He probably bet with his bookie and got better odds.”
Dino laughed. “If he’d bet with a bookie and won that kind of money, he’d more likely get a bullet in the head than a payoff. Oh, that’s right, he did, didn’t he?”
“There’s your motive. You should be looking at Pantero.”
“We’ve looked at him up, down, and sideways. Among those who get away with murder, the wiseguys are usually the winners. We’re lucky we found a body.”
“Pantero must know Randy has a lot of cash stashed somewhere.”
“Maybe Pantero doesn’t know about Randy’s co-op,” Dino said. “He managed to hide that possession from pretty much everybody, including his wife.”
“Still, Randy was getting deliveries of cash there.”
“That must be from the smuggling,” Dino said. “Maybe he has another partner in that racket, instead of Pantero.”
“Anything’s possible,” Stone said.
* * *
—
They made it to Louie’s Backyard before the sun set, and the light was beautiful, even if the sun was setting in the wrong direction. The breeze was nice, too, and that kept it from being too hot.
They ordered drinks and had a look at the menu, then ordered food.
“You feeling better?” Stone asked Max.
“Don’t I look better?”
Stone laughed. “Yes, you do. When are you going to honor us again with your presence in New York?”
“Well, with the smuggling case wrapped, I’m back on the stolen bicycle detail. Have you got an extra seat on your airplane?”
Stone smiled. “I think we can squeeze you in.”
“Good,” she said, “because I’ve already asked for a week’s vacation.” Her cell went off, and she fished it out of her small purse. “Excuse me,” she said, “I want to take this.” She got up, walked a few yards away, and sat on a chair near the deck railing.
“Well, that’s working out well for you, isn’t it?” Dino said, chuckling. “Robbie cast aside, and Max is coming to town.”
“I’m a lucky guy,” Stone said.
“You might remember that Robbie may have murdered the last man who disappointed her.”
“I’d rather not think of that,” Stone said.
“Max will help keep your mind clear, I expect.”
Max came back and sat down. “That was our FBI friend in Naples,” she said. “His team has been grilling the shrimper’s crew since they docked.”
“Have they spilled any New York names?”
“McWilliam, the shrimper’s owner, mentioned Hedger but nobody else.”
“Well, shit,” Dino muttered.
“I almost forgot. Dixie came up with something this afternoon.”
“What something?”
“He said that McWilliam was aboard the shrimper on one of his deliveries, and that he heard the man mention a couple of names. Hedger was one of them.”
“Swell,” Dino said. “Everybody wants to talk about the dead guy.”
“He heard another name, too, and now I’ve forgotten it, just like Dixie did.”
“Concentrate,” Dino said.
“It was an artist’s name.”
“Picasso? Van Gogh?” Stone asked.
“I don’t think they were smugglers,” Max said.
“Then who?”
“Who does those lovely mobiles?”
Stone and Dino looked at each other and spoke simultaneously. “Calder!” they said.
55
As they were landing at Teterboro, Dino took a phone call on his cell and chatted for a couple of minutes, then he joined Stone on the way to the car. “One of my guys called: he says Roberta Calder gave her employees a cash bonus today.”
“So?”
“I think the operative word is cash,” Dino said. “In other words, she didn’t write them checks. In fact, she told them it was tax-free.”
“So Robbie is dipping into Randy’s cash reserve?”
“Sounds that way.”
“I’ll nip that in the bud,” Stone said. Once in the car, he called Herbie Fisher.
“Herb Fisher.”
“Hi, it’s Stone.”
“Are you still in Key West?”
“No, we just landed at Teterboro, and we’re on our way into the city. Dino just got some news that should interest you.”
“I’m always interested in interesting news.”
“Earlier today, Robbie doled out cash bonuses to her employees and told them not to bother reporting them to the IRS.”
“That’s not possible,” Herb said.
“Why not?”
“Because I sequestered all the cash in Randy’s safe and the package that was delivered. It’s under seal in a safe-deposit box. I was afraid she’d start dipping into it, and I didn’t want to have to deal with that.”
“Did Randy have any other cash stashed somewhere?”
“Not that I can find. I’ve been over his apartment with a fine-tooth comb, and