Red Alert(NYPD Red #5)(73)

“Tell Muriel she’s on my list,” he said. “No, no, wait: Tell her the truth. Tell her Princeton Wells is on a bender, but he’s safely locked up in his great-grandmother’s mansion, which is like the Fortress of Solitude, only with better decorating. Also tell her that the Tremont Gardens project will go on as scheduled. It’s Del Fairfax’s legacy, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it die with him. I’m a little sauced right now, but tomorrow morning I promise I will be sober, and I’ll start writing checks, making phone calls, and moving heaven and earth to get it done. I swear.”

“Mayor Sykes will be happy to hear that,” I said.

“Then we’re good,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks for coming,” he said, and shut the door.

“I don’t get it,” I said as Kylie and I walked back to the car.

“What don’t you get, Zach? That rich people are assholes? That Princeton Wells would rather get drunk and get laid than get out of Dodge?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that he never asked us where we are in the investigation. With Nathan Hirsch it was always, ‘Did you find Segura? Did you arrest La Grande?’ For a man who is the killer’s next target, Princeton Wells seems remarkably uninterested in how the manhunt for Geraldo Segura is going.”

“Which just reinforces my rich-people-are-assholes theory.”

I looked at my watch. “I’ve given the city enough of my life today,” I said. “I’m going to punch out and go home.”

“What are you doing tonight?” Kylie asked.

“Probably have dinner with Cheryl, catch something on Netflix.”

It was true. I just left out the part about my plan to trap her boyfriend into helping me rob a high-stakes poker game.





CHAPTER 70



Trying to hide the truth from your girlfriend is a risky proposition. And when said girlfriend also happens to be a shrink, a cop, and a hot-tempered Latina, the risk factor goes up exponentially, and secret-keeping becomes more of a death wish.

So I decided to do a one-eighty from where I was that morning. As soon as I got to Cheryl’s apartment, I told her everything. She might not approve, but she couldn’t slam me for withholding information. I started with my dinner with Q.

She stopped me immediately. “Q points a finger at these two guys, Jessup and Jewel, and you believe him?” she said. “He has no evidence.”

“Cheryl, this is not a jury trial. Q is a world-class snitch. He said, and I quote, ‘These brothers are spending money like the sultan of Brunei died and named them sole beneficiaries.’ Unquote.”

“That’s specious logic.”

“It’s street logic,” I said. Then I launched into the details of my undercover meeting with the two hip-hop promoters at Rattlesnake. She didn’t say a word until I got to the name of my alter ego.

“Fly Boy?” she said, laughing.

“Johnny Fly Boy Wurster,” I said. “Funny how I got that name.” I told her my story about being thrown off a seventh-story balcony and walking away without a scratch.

She shook her head. “Those two guys actually bought that?”

“What’s not to buy? It’s like Freddy No Nose or Sammy the Bull. It’s a nickname with a story behind it.”

“And they believe you’ve recruited them to stick up a poker game at a private home and get away with a million dollars.”

“A million two,” I corrected. “Eight players at a hundred and fifty K a pop.”

“So now what?” she asked.

“At this point, they’ve had twenty-four hours to think about the score. They figure it’s a piece of cake, and they’re already spending the money in their dreams. So now I’m going to throw a monkey wrench into the deal. Do you want to watch?”

“Of course I want to watch,” she said, adding some more white wine to her glass and sitting down on the sofa with her legs curled underneath her. “As long as you understand that my fascination should in no way be misinterpreted as an endorsement of your actions.”

“Understood,” I said, taking it as a small victory. “Jessup is the less trusting of the two. If the sting is going to work, I have to get him to take the bait.” I got out my burner phone, put it on speaker, and dialed Jessup’s number. He answered on the second ring.

“Tariq, this is Fly Boy,” I said. “I got bad news. That sweet deal we had planned for Saturday night—I’m pulling the plug on it.”

“What the fuck, man? You find someone who would do it for less money?”

“No, I was totally down with you guys. It’s just that I’ve done this before. Always in a new city, always with new players. But I just found out that one of the guys in the room on Saturday is going to be someone who sat in on the game when I pulled this in Phoenix. He’s not stupid. First thing he’s going to think is, What are the odds of being in identical robberies in two different towns, and both times Johnny Fly Boy is at the table with me?”

“He’ll make you in a heartbeat,” Jessup said.

“That’s why I’m moving on.”

“Where you going next?”

“I’m thinking Dallas,” I said.