Couples

Chapter 113

Eli steps off the elevator to the 12th Precinct bullpen at six fifty-five a.m. Despite an incredible but late night, both he and Lana were up early. She's already working her shift. Five minutes from now, he'll listen to whatever Palmer Hitchcock has to offer, assuming Scalisi's lawyer makes it on time. Eli's not going to give him much of a grace period. But in the remaining few minutes, he can avail himself of some of the wonderful coffee that Rick's gift to the precinct puts out. The writer has a great appreciation for food and drink. If he ever runs out of plots, he'd probably do just fine with restaurants. But Eli hopes Rick's fountain of words doesn't dry up. Pages 104-105 of Heat Wave do wonders to put Lana in a mood that reflects the title.

Palmer Hitchcock rushes through the entrance of the 12th Precinct, stopping just long enough to pick up a visitor's badge. As that sonofabitch Eli Douglas predicted, Palmer was up all night. Figuring out what Scalisi would offer was easy enough. Of course, it will be every damn thing he knows about the Lorenzos' connection to Momentous Mops. But that doesn't add up to all that much. The defense attorney won't need to pull him into the meeting with Douglas, at least not yet.

Palmer is another story. As he truthfully told Scalisi, he doesn't represent the big boys at the top. But he's represented plenty of members of the organization a level or two down. For the most part, they are the ones who handle the dirty work – or are assigned to cover it up. Everything he heard was assumed to be under attorney-client privilege. But that doesn't count for anyone who wasn't officially his client. Also, theoretically, privilege isn't supposed to apply if it means covering up a future crime, whether for a client or not. So far, he's honored that little detail more in the breach than in the observance, but that's changing. Right now, he has to look out for number one, or if the state doesn't get him, the Lorenzos will.

Hitchcock gazes longingly at the mug of coffee Eli carries into the conference room. "Where did you get that? No one offered me any."

"The detectives here reserve it for family and friends. You're neither," Eli replies. "But unless you have something impressive, you're not going to be here long enough to drink anything. So what are your proffers, Palmer?"

Hitchcock passes several sheets of paper, with the text on numbered lines used for legal documents, across the table. Eli skims the first one. This is for Scalisi. He's offering the name of at least one member of the Lorenzo family who ordered the robberies. But I don't see a connection to murder except for the broadest implication."

"He can flesh it out later," Hitchcock insists. "Look at mine. That's where the red meat is."

Eli scans carefully through the notations. "You're claiming that you heard Vinny Mazzetti tell Valentino Lorenzo, 'The Ford bitch is in the garbage where she belonged.' Is that a precise quote?"

"It is. And I heard a lot more."

"We'll go through it. You want a water?" Eli offers.

"I'd rather have a coffee."

"Maybe," Eli replies. "We'll see about that after you give me the rest."

"What are you doing?" Benedict Auchincloss asks, buttoning his chef's coat as he enters the kitchen of Imagination Patch.

Christine eyes him in surprise. "I'm working on some things for Mr. Castle's party before I start prep. Why are you here? I thought you planned to be at your other restaurant this morning. Didn't you have a meeting with one of your suppliers?"

Auchincloss raises an eyebrow. "I didn't know you kept track of my schedule that closely. I did, but the farm manager put it off. One of the trucks carrying vegetables overturned on the Long Island Expressway. He's trying to figure out how to cope with the loss and re-allocate the remaining produce. So, I thought I should put in some time here. I talked to Castle. He said that every time he's come by, you'd been the only chef in the kitchen."

Christine's eyes widen. "Oh! I hope he wasn't disappointed. I tried to make sure he and Lily got what they wanted."

"If he was disappointed, it wasn't in you," Auchincloss asserts. "I believe that was his not-so-subtle way of saying I'm pushing off too many of my duties. And he didn't expect you to volunteer to make the food for the party. He was just trying to pick your brain for ideas. But as long as you stepped in, I might as well assist you. Otherwise, you'll never get the rest of your work done."

Christine reaches for an aerosol can. "Thank you, Chef. I really didn't expect any help. I think I have things handled."

"Do you?" Auchincloss queries. "I hope you weren't planning to use that on the ring molds."

Christine examines the label. "Oh, God! It's the egg white spray we use to make seeds stick to the buns. Nothing would have released from the molds. Thank you, Chef. Again."

"It's all right. No harm done. But I think Castle is correct. Maybe I've been working you too hard."

"No, you haven't," Christine argues. "It was my choice to work on the food for Mr. Castle's party. I should put it away for now before I really make a mess. Then, I'll start the prep."

"Relax, Christine," Auchincloss counsels. "We can both do the prep. And if there's time left to work on your project for Castle, I can help you with that too. Did you know that according to Mark's figures, our lunch business is up 10 percent, and dinner rose by fifteen? So you've been doing fine. But don't burn yourself out. I've seen it happen to too many young chefs, and it isn't necessary."

"Yes, Chef," Christine agrees. "I'll just finish what I'm doing and join you."

Auchincloss holds up another spray can. "Then, you'd best use this."

"Wow!" Rick exclaims at Kate's report when she returns to the loft. "So Scalisi's lawyer is implicating a Lorenzo in Calista Ford's murder. When's the last time you flipped a lawyer?"

"Never," Kate admits. "And I don't think he flipped because of anything I did. Hitchcock is only interested in saving his own ass. And there's something personal going on between him and Eli."

"I would think there's only one personal relationship on Eli's mind right now." Rick quips.

Kate grins. "I don't think he's about to honeymoon with Palmer Hitchcock. Although if Scalisi was along, that twerp might want to watch. I got that vibe from him."

Rick points down his throat with two fingers, making gagging noises. "I don't even want to think about that. But as far as Eli is concerned – and Lana, of course, I've made progress on the party. Or more like Christine Azaria has. First, she came up with a theme and went to town. Then, when she called me, she said Auchincloss even got into the act."

"That's strange," Kate observes. "I never pictured him as into romantic stuff. If he's having a love affair, it's with his knives."

"Or his recipe for pie crust," Rick suggests. "But you never know. Even after all my years of people watching, they still surprise me."

"I know what you mean," Kate agrees. "I've found the evidence against murderers I would have sworn couldn't hurt a fly. I also had to arrest the sweetest little old lady. She found out her husband was cheating on her and beat him to death with her cane."

Rick chuckles. "I would have liked to see that. Did the jury convict her?"

"Her lawyer claimed she had dementia and got her off. But I'll bet at least one of the women on a jury would have cheered for her."

"An argument for lifelong fidelity if I've ever heard one," Rick declares, "not that there's another woman that could ever measure up to you."

The tinkling of a sound-activated mobile, followed by a demand for Mama, issues from the nursery monitor. "Lily's naps are getting shorter," Kate notes. She kisses the tip of her finger and touches it to Rick's lips. "We can pick this up later."