Read Online Death Never Sleeps by E.J. Simon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: E.J. Simon
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Besides the natural intimacy of the arrangement, they both enjoyed the view of the room and the ongoing show of New York nightlife that paraded by. Before Donna could respond, however, Michael quickly interjected, “No thanks, we prefer to face each other.”
The restaurant had a full house of well-heeled and smartly dressed New Yorkers. Michael watched as Donna took in the room. “Michael, that’s Regis Philbin and his wife, Joy, over there on your right. Oh God, I see Mayor Bloomberg and Oprah sitting in the back. This place is unbelievable.”
“I’ve always enjoyed it. The food is great and it’s just quiet and calm, yet it has an East Side buzz about it. I know that’s a contradiction. Anyway, Samantha and Sofia love it here too.”
“Oh, Michael, I do miss Alex, but he hated places like this. Too many ties, too many suits, too many hushed conversations. He said he didn’t like going to restaurants where everyone looked like they had a rod up their ass.”
“Alex did have a way with words.” Michael’s sarcasm, he knew, was lost on Donna.
Michael had called Donna early in the morning and told her exactly what had happened at his home the night before. He expected her to have brought it up for discussion by now. He was anxious to get her thoughts on what she thought was going on.
“Donna, do you realize all the shit that’s been going on here? This is dangerous stuff.” Michael needed to try to get Donna to focus on the total picture of everything that had happened. “Someone had Alex and Russell murdered, and they’ve got to be connected to whoever broke into my house. Samantha is hysterical. I have private security guards watching the house twenty-four hours a day. Where is your guy, by the way?”
“He’s having dinner in his room. I told him to just stay there. I figured I’d be okay with you, and I preferred that he keep an eye out on my room instead. He’s also got hotel security watching us like a hawk. Every time I go to the elevator, it seems like there’s a plainclothes security guy somewhere in the hall.”
“How do you know it’s hotel security if he’s in plain clothes?”
“Michael, you can’t miss them. They’ve all got radios and earphones in their ears. You can hear the radios going even from the room sometimes. Either they’re all security, or there’s a goddamned deaf people’s convention at the Carlyle.”
Touché, Michael thought. “And what about the police investigation? Have you heard anything new?”
“Not really. They called me this morning. They have gone through Alex’s insurance office and the computer he had there. Naturally, they found nothing unusual. Let’s face it, whatever is happening is not a result of the shitty little insurance brokerage he had. Even the cops know that was just a front. It gave him enough legitimate income so the IRS wouldn’t get suspicious.”
“What about Alex’s real office?” Michael was suddenly concerned about the police finding Alex’s bookmaking and loan-sharking records—and his handgun in the desk drawer. He was also trying to remember whether he ever actually picked up the gun. His mind raced through the implications of his own fingerprints being discovered by the police.
“They don’t know about his other office. You know, only the Lesters and a few others of his closest guys were ever allowed into that place.”
“But, Donna,” Michael interjected, “the cops know Alex was a bookie; they’re going to want his records. They’re going to need to know who he was doing business with, who may have wanted him dead—”
Donna interrupted. “Of course the cops know Alex was a bookie. Some of his best customers were cops. I just said he was an insurance agent as far as I knew. I played the dumb wife who knows nothing about her husband’s business—or businesses. These guys have all seen The Sopranos . They believed what I told them, or it was what they wanted to believe. I also gave up Alex’s
The restaurant had a full house of well-heeled and smartly dressed New Yorkers. Michael watched as Donna took in the room. “Michael, that’s Regis Philbin and his wife, Joy, over there on your right. Oh God, I see Mayor Bloomberg and Oprah sitting in the back. This place is unbelievable.”
“I’ve always enjoyed it. The food is great and it’s just quiet and calm, yet it has an East Side buzz about it. I know that’s a contradiction. Anyway, Samantha and Sofia love it here too.”
“Oh, Michael, I do miss Alex, but he hated places like this. Too many ties, too many suits, too many hushed conversations. He said he didn’t like going to restaurants where everyone looked like they had a rod up their ass.”
“Alex did have a way with words.” Michael’s sarcasm, he knew, was lost on Donna.
Michael had called Donna early in the morning and told her exactly what had happened at his home the night before. He expected her to have brought it up for discussion by now. He was anxious to get her thoughts on what she thought was going on.
“Donna, do you realize all the shit that’s been going on here? This is dangerous stuff.” Michael needed to try to get Donna to focus on the total picture of everything that had happened. “Someone had Alex and Russell murdered, and they’ve got to be connected to whoever broke into my house. Samantha is hysterical. I have private security guards watching the house twenty-four hours a day. Where is your guy, by the way?”
“He’s having dinner in his room. I told him to just stay there. I figured I’d be okay with you, and I preferred that he keep an eye out on my room instead. He’s also got hotel security watching us like a hawk. Every time I go to the elevator, it seems like there’s a plainclothes security guy somewhere in the hall.”
“How do you know it’s hotel security if he’s in plain clothes?”
“Michael, you can’t miss them. They’ve all got radios and earphones in their ears. You can hear the radios going even from the room sometimes. Either they’re all security, or there’s a goddamned deaf people’s convention at the Carlyle.”
Touché, Michael thought. “And what about the police investigation? Have you heard anything new?”
“Not really. They called me this morning. They have gone through Alex’s insurance office and the computer he had there. Naturally, they found nothing unusual. Let’s face it, whatever is happening is not a result of the shitty little insurance brokerage he had. Even the cops know that was just a front. It gave him enough legitimate income so the IRS wouldn’t get suspicious.”
“What about Alex’s real office?” Michael was suddenly concerned about the police finding Alex’s bookmaking and loan-sharking records—and his handgun in the desk drawer. He was also trying to remember whether he ever actually picked up the gun. His mind raced through the implications of his own fingerprints being discovered by the police.
“They don’t know about his other office. You know, only the Lesters and a few others of his closest guys were ever allowed into that place.”
“But, Donna,” Michael interjected, “the cops know Alex was a bookie; they’re going to want his records. They’re going to need to know who he was doing business with, who may have wanted him dead—”
Donna interrupted. “Of course the cops know Alex was a bookie. Some of his best customers were cops. I just said he was an insurance agent as far as I knew. I played the dumb wife who knows nothing about her husband’s business—or businesses. These guys have all seen The Sopranos . They believed what I told them, or it was what they wanted to believe. I also gave up Alex’s
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