Omerta - Mario Puzo [100]
“Hi, John,” she said. “You never did come to visit me in the hospital.”
He was so flustered he took her seriously. “You know I couldn’t do that, Detective. But I was sorry to hear about your misfortune.”
Aspinella gave him a huge smile. “I was kidding, John. But I did want to have a little chat with you before your flight.”
“Sure,” Heskow said. He expected he would have to pay off, and he had ten grand in the briefcase ready for just such surprises. “I’m glad to see you looking so well. I was worried about you.”
“No shit,” Aspinella said, her one eye glittering like a hawk’s. “Too bad about Paul. We were good friends, you know, besides his being my boss.”
“That was a shame,” Heskow said. He even gave a little cluck, which made Aspinella smile.
“I don’t have to show you my badge,” Aspinella said. “Right?” She paused. “I want you to come with me to a little interrogation room we have here in the terminal. Give me some good interesting answers, and you can catch your flight.”
“OK,” Heskow said. He rose to his feet clutching his briefcase.
“And no funny business or I’ll shoot you dead. Funny thing, I’m a better shot with just one eye.” She rose and took his arm and led him to a stairway up to the mezzanine, which held the administrative offices of the airlines. She led him down a long hallway and unlocked an office door. Heskow was surprised not only by the largeness of the room but by the banks of TV monitors on the walls, at least twenty screens, monitored by two men who sat in soft armchairs and studied them as they ate sandwiches and drank coffee. One of the men stood up and said, “Hey, Aspinella, what’s up?”
“I’m going to have a private chat with this guy in the interrogation room. Lock us in.”
“Sure,” the man said. “You want one of us in there with you?”
“Nah. It’s just a friendly chat.”
“Oh, one of your famous friendly chats,” the man said, and laughed. He looked at Heskow closely. “I saw you on the screens down in the terminal. Strawberry tart, right?” He led them to a door in the back of the room and unlocked it. After Heskow and Aspinella entered the interrogation room he locked the door behind them.
Heskow was reassured now that there were other people involved. The interrogation chamber was disarming, with a couch, a desk, and three comfortable-looking chairs. In one corner was a watercooler with paper cups. The pink walls were decorated with photographs and paintings of flying machines.
Aspinella made Heskow sit in a chair facing the desk, on which she sat and looked down at him.
“Can we get on with it?” Heskow asked. “I cannot afford to miss that flight.”
Aspinella didn’t answer. She reached out and took Heskow’s briefcase from his lap. Heskow twitched. She opened it and leafed through the contents, including the stacks of one-hundred-dollar bills. She studied one of the false passports, then put everything back in the briefcase and returned it to him.
“You’re a very clever man,” she said. “You knew it was time to run. Who told you I was after you?”
“Why would you be after me?” Heskow asked. He was more confident now that she had given him back his briefcase.
Aspinella lifted her eye patch so that he could see the wretched crater. But Heskow did not flinch; he had seen much worse in his day.
“You cost me that eye,” she said. “Only you could have informed and set Paul and me up.”
Heskow spoke with the utmost sincerity, which had been one of his best weapons in his profession. “You’re wrong, absolutely wrong. If I did that, I would have kept the money—you can see that. Look, I really have to catch that flight.” He unbuttoned his shirt and tore a piece of tape. Two packets of money appeared on the table. “That’s yours, and the money in the briefcase. That’s thirty grand.”
“Gee,” Aspinella said. “Thirty grand. That’s a lot of money for just one eye. OK. But you have to tell me the name of the guy who paid you to set us up.”
Heskow made up his mind. His one chance was to get on that flight. He knew she wasn’t bluffing. He had dealt with too many homicidal maniacs in his line of work to misjudge