Friday 9th May
Roark's Bar
The pitcher of beer sat in the centre of the table with two empty glasses beside it and Goren sat for a moment watching the condensation run down the outside of his own. The silence between himself and Eames was close to gloomy.
"Perhaps she will contact one of her family" said Eames.
His glance across at her in reply had a "you must be kidding" quality to it. They had spent part of the day tracking down family, friends and co-workers of Liz Dipnall. None claimed to have heard from her or know where she might have gone. Trouble was, they both believed them.
And her husband recovering in hospital was still saying nothing. Not even the prospect of generous consideration on kidnap and robbery charges, as soon as the labs matched his blood with that found on Paul Young, had moved him from his "no comment" strategy. Even when encouraged by his own lawyer to think hard about telling Goren and Eames all he knew, when they went to the hospital to question him.
Goren sipped his beer. "Most likely thing to get us something to go on is a press release. Announcing we have information will lead us to the gang"
Eames glanced at him. "That would be a death sentence to Jed Dipnall while he's on remand at Northern or East Jersey. Not that I have a lot of sympathy with him, Bobby. But you know that would be the result and still leave us without anything to go on. Apart from checking out hundreds of Lincoln's for sign of recent damage"
"Unless…" he said glancing up as two figures came towards them.
Logan and Wheeler slid into the booth beside them as Goren poured beer into the other glasses.
"We bring good news" grinned Mike.
"Or at least not bad" said his partner.
They had been working the angle of "who" or "what" was the link between Chester Lonsdale and Thomas Lacey III. Going through appointment books and checking back with the dead man's office and family.
Logan lifted his glass "Lets' drink to The Windy City"
"Chicago?" frowned Eames.
"Uhuh" Megan swallowed. "Or the National Association of Insurance Providers. That's where they held their bi-annual convention almost two years ago. Both men were there and that's the only thing we found they have in common. Lonsdale for the full week and Lacey for a couple of days"
"How many were at the convention?" asked Goren.
"Close to five thousand people over the whole week" said Logan. "But before either of you groan, they are sending us a full list of the delegates. I figure we start with the local ones. See what they turn up and since we have to work tomorrow and are under instruction from upstairs to give this priority, we'll be sharing your misery"
"If that helps?" added Wheeler.
"Yes" said Eames.
"No" said Goren before noting the looks and amending that to "A little"
He drained his glass with a glance at his watch and said "excuse me" to Megan to let him out of the booth.
"I…um…I need to go" he said slipping on his jacket, picking up his folder and turning to the exit. "See you tomorrow"
When he was out of earshot in the crowded bar, Wheeler spoke.
"Bobby seems very distracted by all this Alex. He okay?"
"Tired" she shrugged. "Personal stuff too I think"
She was thinking of, but not saying anything about, Jenny Archer. Who she was, how she was somehow involved with Goren's brother and how her partner had gone back to some of his "old ways". When he was badly worried about Frank or his Mom in the past, he would never mention them. Close down completely on his private life and that was exactly what Bobby had done all week.
"Don't blame him" shrugged Logan. "I would be distracted in his shoes. Going to meet a woman I have to tell I need to cut short the house hunt this weekend. For work."
"Mmm" said Eames setting down her glass.
"Now that is a thankless job for any man" he went on. "Oh we must go back and see this one again honey and yes I know we can't really afford it. Either that or they fall in love with a fixer upper will take you the rest of your life to fix"
"You really do know how to endear yourself to women don't you Mike?" growled Wheeler.
"I don't think his ideas of endearment extend beyond not dropping his clothes on the bedroom floor and letting himself out quietly" said Eames.
Logan grinned. "Well you got two out of three right. But one of you ladies will have to do a little more to achieve the trifecta. Be worth it. I guarantee you"
"No thanks" the two women in unison.
"And not according to the locker room wall" added Megan with a wink at Eames.
That shut him up and left Logan with a slightly puzzled expression made them laugh.
Saturday 10th May
Custom Cars, Rego Park, Queens
Marty Clarkson wiped the cocaine residue from the end of his nose, told Crystal to get out and sat back for a moment at his desk. Angry and thinking this is what you got for "being nice". Should have pushed Weasel Dipnall off the Triborough Bridge with a couple of cinder blocks round his ankles. Instead of listening to that former smack head, Denton and letting him drive the guy back to Jersey.
Either the stab wound was worse than he said or for some reason Weasel never got to that struck off doctor Harcourt knew. One would treat wounds "no questions asked" and do illegal abortions. That had to be how the cops lifted him so easy and the only good thing was they must have found nothing at that moron's apartment to link Dipnall to him and the others. And he had not talked. Yet.
With no way to get at Weasel to ensure his silence so long as he was tucked up in hospital under police guard, Clarkson had no choice but to wait to deal with him. When he was sure where he was. However, that did not stop him punishing Harcourt Denton.
He picked up the cell to call his half brother Jack. They might be descended illegitimately but the legend that was Don Fredo Masucci was still his grandfather, God rest his soul. And that still counted for something.
It was only after another snort of cocaine he remembered why there was probably no reply earlier from that bitch Jenny. Still out celebrating no doubt.
Sunday 11th May
St Luke's Place, Greenwich Village
"You'll be telling me next you couldn't live on a street named for a saint" Caro teased him.
"I just think it will take a lot of work" said Goren as he took another look round a kitchen they had already decided needed completely re-fitting.
"One reason it's so cheap" she shrugged leaning over the sink to look into the garden below.
"Want to go look at that jungle next I suppose?"
"Want to take that scowl off your face Rob? And no. The basement"
He followed Caroline meekly to the stairs. Her folks might have offered to give them the same sort of financial gift they had her three siblings when they got married, or in David's case, moved in with the woman he now had a son with. It had taken her a while to persuade him out of what she called his "stiff necked independence and pride" to even consider accepting it. Goren knew when he got home from work yesterday she was up to something. The dinner cooking, clothes showed her hard to resist assets to best advantage and the offer to run him a bath.
To his credit he did get it out of Caro, pre-coital not post when, like most men, he'd be like putty in her hands. Physically and mentally. Nor was it that he did not see the potential of the lower three floors of a five story town house. It even came, given the location, with the almost obligatory middle-aged gay guys on the top two floors.
Down in the dusty basement, which had originally been a kitchen and servant accommodation when the house was built, they picked their way by empty boxes and ancient newspapers.
"Great place for a pool table" he mused. "Maybe a bar that end and…"
Even by the dim light from the three bulbs he knew he pushed that idea as far as he could. Instead, he took one end of the tape measure Caro took from the pocket of her jeans and held it where he was told. And waited for her to complete an inspection of some pipe work in the corner.
"Excellent idea Rob" Caro smiled. "We could even have a hot tub put in this corner"
"Or?"
"Or we could, since the services are here move the kitchen down here, make a big open living space…" he watched her pace to the door into the garden. "I wouldn't mind betting we could widen this. To create doors out to the garden…use that corner and under the stairs to make a laundry or cloakroom save hiking up to the second floor"
"There's not enough room in the old kitchen upstairs for a pool table sweetie. And a hot tub"
"No but it would make a extra space on the first floor we could use as an office or maybe a third bedroom"
It made perfect sense. The second one upstairs was on the small side. But Goren wasn't about to admit that immediately. He had to make out he still had some "cohones" left.
"The bathroom needs tearing out Caro"
"I know but it's big enough to take a separate shower. Which you really like"
"And I can't do all of the work myself. More than simple plumbing is a mystery to me. Or did you buy a large D-I-Y manual when you were out yesterday?"
"No. But I did work out what we would save on the commute even from your apartment. In time and money. And it doesn't all have to be done at once. Most of the first floor is just decoration Rob"
"Once the kitchen is moved I guess it would be" he paced to and fro. "But you don't know it won't require major steelwork to open that end up more"
"It won't"
"Who says?"
Goren stared at her and knew a "guilty" expression when he saw one.
"Peter upstairs" she mumbled.
"I didn't quite catch that Caro" he cupped his ear.
"Well okay. I had a few minutes to spare so came here yesterday. He's an architect Rob so…um…so he also had a rough idea what it would all cost" her voice dropped again "And we can afford it"
"What was that Caro?"
"I said try to use your imagination Rob"
She glanced at him "And not like that!"
To be continued…