A Handy Death

“I’ll catch up, anyway,” Gunnerson said, and turned to call a waiter. To his amazement a hand reached over his shoulder and Jeannot, personally, was handing him his Scotch on the rocks. It was a double. Mike grinned.

“My apologies.” He raised his glass in a small salute, took a long drink, and set it down. “That’s better. We may even survive. Say, Hank, I hear you pulled a real Ross in court today.”

Ross smiled. Praise from Gunnerson was praise indeed.

“We did all right. Gorman raised a fuss, but he wasn’t really all that surprised. He’s quite an actor.” He grinned. “He’ll be more surprised when he discovers that getting Billy out is going to play merry hell with some of his prosecuting tactics in the next trial.”

“Good,” Mike said. “Anything that upsets Louie Gorman can’t be all bad.” He glanced around. “Where’s Billy?”

“We got him released from the Tombs about three this afternoon, and I checked him into the Marlborough on Lexington. I suggested he go out and get some decent clothes, or at least enough to last him through the trial, but he said that could wait; he wanted to go to the movies.” He grinned. “My guess is he picked a double feaure and will probably sit through it twice. I called the hotel before and left a message for him to join us here if he got back in time.”

“Well,” Mike said understandingly, “the last year or so there haven’t been too many privileges granted up at Attica. At least the movies are a better place for him to be than in a bar.” He smiled and raised his drink. “Which is where I’d be if I’d been in prison for the past four years.”

“Which is where you are even though you haven’t been in prison for the last four years,” Ross reminded him with a smile, and then moved aside to allow the waiter to bring their food. The dishes were carefully placed under the eagle eye of Jeannot; Ross picked up his knife and fork, tested the steak, and smiled his appreciation. Jeannot beamed and moved away.

“Well,” Ross said, cutting away, “enough of this Sybaritism, if there is such a word. Let’s get back to business. What have you got for us?”

Gunnerson finished his drink, signaled for a refill, and reached for his knife and fork.

“Well, my man up in Glens Falls was at this Jim Marshall for hours, but Marshall refuses to say a thing. He’s got a little shop up in Lake George Village about eight or nine miles above Glens Falls; he repairs bicycles and does odd jobs. Lives in a sort of shack about a mile from his shop. Not too prosperous. Don Evans — my man up there — has a feeling some money might loosen up his tongue.”

Ross looked up from his plate. “So offer him money.”

“I intend to, but I want to do it myself. I’m taking the early morning plane up there tomorrow morning.”

“Good. Anything new on Neeley?”

“I’ve had a man backtracking on him and I’ve got the report here in my pocket.” He tapped his jacket pocket for confirmation, accepted his second drink, tested it, and went back to his dinner. “But later you and I are meeting an old friend of mine who may be able to give us a bit more on Neeley than I have in this report. And information that’s a bit more reliable.”

“Oh?” Sharon paused in eating. “I’m not invited?”

“Not to this place,” Mike said positively.

“Not with two big, strong, and tough men to protect me?”

Mike laughed. “Oh, the place is safe enough. It’s just that I had enough trouble getting my friend to agree to talk even in front of Hank here. Bring along anyone else and all we’d get would be the silent treatment.”

“Well,” Sharon said, “then I guess I should have double-dated with Molly tonight instead of tomorrow night.”

Ross looked at her. “Why not both nights?”

“Because I don’t have Molly’s energy. If I kept her hours and spent them all dancing, too, I wouldn’t be able to stay awake in the office.” She sighed. “Maybe I’ll take in a movie, like Billy.”

“No double features, though,” Ross warned. “Remember staying awake in the office.”

Sharon made a face. Ross grinned and turned back to Mike.

“What about that report in your pocket?”

“Well,” Mike said, speaking around a large bite of steak, “it’s odd. Or at least it strikes me as odd. Neeley still lives — lived, would be closer — in that same apartment after all these years. The only one, as I said before. And as far as we have been able to determine, he’s never left town, not even for a vacation. I don’t understand it.”

“What’s to understand? Lots of people never leave town.”

“Well, I was sure he’d go after this Grace Melisi, wherever she was, and I was sure she wasn’t in New York. I figured he had to try and get his hands on her if only to break her arm, maybe. Just to teach her manners.”

Ross said, “Maybe he couldn’t afford the luxury of revenge. Sometimes it comes high.” He studied Mike across the table. “How was Neeley fixed financially? What did he do for a living?”

“When he didn’t have some mark on the hook? I don’t know. That’s one of the things I’m hoping to find out tonight.”

“How would your friend react to an attaché case?”