He Sees You When You're Sleeping Page 9

  “We’re teaming you with one of our top producers. He wants to get to work with you as soon as possible. By this time next year you could be a star, Billy.”

  The meeting ended with handshakes and a fervent expression of gratitude from Billy.

  Good move, Sterling thought. During the discussion, you impressed him with your composure, but it was time to let him know how happy you are. I know his type. He loves having the role of kingmaker.

  In the lobby, Billy consulted his train schedule and looked at his watch. Looking over his shoulder Sterling could see that he was going to try to make the 6:50 from Jamaica. A little tight, Sterling worried, but it’s an express train, and the next one is a local.

  They covered the seven blocks back to Fifty-ninth Street in half the time it had taken them to get to the hotel. Billy must be walking on air, Sterling thought. For the moment, at least. I’m sure that instead of thinking about the Badgetts, he’s reveling in what the recording contract means to his future.

  They hurried down the subway steps and onto the crowded platform. Consulting his watch again, Billy made his way to the edge and leaned forward, hoping to see a headlight emerging from the tunnel.

  It happened in an instant. Sterling saw a burly man suddenly materialize, and with a slam of his shoulder send Billy teetering over the tracks. Anguished, Sterling tried to grab Billy, knowing that he could not regain his balance on his own, but his arms went right through Billy’s body.

  The train was rushing into the station. He’s going to fall, Sterling thought helplessly. A woman screamed as the same burly man suddenly pulled Billy back to safety, then disappeared into the crowd, headed toward the exit.

  The doors of the train opened. Numbly, Billy stepped aside as exiting passengers rushed past him.

  “Are you all right?” someone asked him anxiously as he boarded the train.

  “Yes, I’m all right.” Billy grabbed the center pole near the door and held on tight.

  An elderly woman admonished him. “Do you know how lucky you are? You should never stand that close to the edge of the platform.”

  “I know. It was stupid,” Billy agreed, then turned away, struggling quietly to normalize his rapid breathing.

  It wasn’t stupid, Sterling wanted to shout, dismayed that he could not warn Billy. Billy doesn’t realize he was pushed. The platform was so filled with people, he must think that the press of the crowd caused him to lose his balance, and that somebody grabbed him in time.

  Sterling hung onto the center post with Billy as the subway bounced and swayed down the tracks. They arrived in Jamaica just in time to make the 6:50 to Syosset.

  All the way home, chilling thoughts kept running through Sterling ’s mind: What happened on the subway platform was no accident, and what will the Badgett brothers do next?

  Lee Kramer sat alone in the small hospital waiting room reserved for the families of people in intensive care. Except for the few minutes at a time that she had been able to stand at the foot of Hans’s bed, this was where she had been since before dawn, when she had followed the ambulance to the hospital.

  A massive heart attack. The words echoed dully in her mind. Hans, who in the twenty-two years of their marriage had hardly ever had a cold.

  She tried to remind herself that the doctor had said that Hans was stabilizing. He said that Hans had been lucky. The fact that the fire department was at the scene and had the equipment to shock his heart and start it beating again had saved his life.

  He’s been under too much stress, Lee thought. The sight of the fire put him over the edge.

  She glanced up when the door opened, then turned away. A number of her friends had stopped in and sat with her during the day, but she did not know this sober-faced, dark-haired man.

  FBI agent Rich Meyers had come to the hospital hoping that he would be allowed to speak to Hans Kramer for a few minutes. That was out of the question, the nurse had told him firmly, but then added that Mrs. Kramer was in the waiting room.

  “Mrs. Kramer?”

  Lee whirled around. “Yes. Is anything…?”

  The strain on Lee Kramer’s face was obvious. She looked as though she’d been punched in the stomach. Her short, ash-blond hair, blue eyes, and fresh complexion told Meyers that, like her husband, she was probably of Swiss extraction.

  Rich introduced himself and handed her his card. A look of alarm came over her face. “FBI?” she asked.

  “We’re investigating the possibility that the fire at your husband’s warehouse was deliberately set.”

  “Deliberately set? Who would do that?” Her eyes widened.

  Meyers sat down in the vinyl chair opposite her. “Do you know anything about loans your husband may have taken out?”

  Lee put her hand to her mouth, and the thoughts that had tormented her all day tumbled out. “When everything turned and the business started to go bad, we took a second mortgage on the house for every cent the bank would lend us. There’s a mortgage on the warehouse, but only as much as we could borrow on it. I know it’s underinsured. Hans was so sure that if he could tough it through a little longer, the business would take off. He really is brilliant. The software program he designed can’t miss.” Her voice faltered. “And now what does all that matter? If only he makes it…”

  “Mrs. Kramer, in addition to the mortgages, were there any other loans your husband may have taken?”

  “I didn’t know about any, but this morning, after we got the call about the fire, he said something like, ‘I borrowed a lot of money…’ ”

  Meyers’s face remained impassive. “Did he tell you who it was borrowed from?”

  “No, that was all he said.”

  “Then you probably wouldn’t have known if he made a phone call yesterday evening and left a message for someone about repaying a loan?”

  “No, I don’t know anything about that. But he was very agitated last night.”

  “Mrs. Kramer, does your husband have a cell phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’d like to have your permission to check his cell phone account and home phone records to see if he made a call last night.”

  “Who would he have been calling?”

  “People who don’t give extensions on loans.”

  Her insides churning, Lee was afraid to ask the next question. “Is Hans in any trouble?”

  “With the law? No. We just want to talk to him about that loan. The doctor will tell us when it’s possible to see him.”

  “If it’s possible,” Lee whispered.

  Charlie Santoli had left the Badgetts’ office as quickly as possible after he’d been excoriated for not succeeding in his mission to buy Billy Campbell’s silence, but at four o’clock Junior sent for him again.

  He hastened down the corridor and around the corner to the executive suite shared by Junior and Eddie. Their long-time secretary was at her desk. Years ago, Charlie had decided that even as a baby, Lil must have had pugnacious features. Now that she had passed the fifty mark, they had settled into a permanent scowl. Still, he liked Lil, and she was probably the only person in the building who was not afraid of Junior.

  She looked up, her eyes magnified by her oversized glasses, and jerked her thumb over her shoulder, always the sign to go right in. Then in a voice made hoarse by years of chain-smoking, she rasped, “The mood is slightly better.” She paused. “Ask me if I care.”

  Charlie knew he didn’t have to respond. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

  Junior and Eddie were sitting on the zebra chairs, glasses in their hands. Toward the end of the business day they often had a drink together before getting into their limo and heading home. If Charlie happened to be there, he was usually told to help himself from the bar.

  Today was not one of those days. He was neither offered a drink, nor was he asked to sit down.

  Junior looked over at him. “Just in case Campbell smartens up, we need to have this scholarship program on the level. Everyone knows w
e just gave big bucks to the old folks. Now we gotta take care of the little ones. You figure out the details. Find nine other outstanding kids from the area, all of’em the age of Campbell ’s kid. We think it would be very nice of us to give them scholarships too.”

  They’ve got to be kidding, Charlie thought. Hesitantly, he suggested, “I think it would be wise if at least some of the children are older. How can you explain to the media that you want to give ten college scholarships to first-graders when there are high school boys and girls who need them now?”

  “We don’t wanna do that,” Eddie barked. “We wanna build for the future. And if Campbell is smart enough to fall in line, we slide his kid’s name in with the others.”

  “Marissa’s marks are good and she’s a nifty little ice-skater,” Junior remarked offhandedly as he bit the end off a cigar. “Go find us other talented kiddies like her.”

  Charlie felt one more turn of the winch that twisted his digestive system. Nifty little ice-skater. How does Junior know so much about Marissa Campbell? he wondered bleakly.

  “Of course, if you can’t persuade Billy Campbell to retract anything he might have said about our little joke, there won’t be any need for a fund,” Junior said quietly. “Don’t let us keep you, Charlie. I know how busy you are.”

  Back in his own office, Charlie tried to reassure himself that, bad as they were, people like Junior and Eddie never went after the children of their enemies.

  But those two… He could not pursue the thought. Instead he found himself praying that Billy Campbell would wise up and accept the scholarship.

  Shaking his head, he reached for a folder with the information about the car dealership the Badgetts wanted to buy. He had intended to spend his whole day on it, but had been too distracted to concentrate.

  At 6:30 he closed the file and got up. He had his coat on and his briefcase in his hand when the phone rang. Reluctantly he picked it up.

  A low, husky voice that he did not recognize said, “Charlie, the boss told me to pass the word that Billy Campbell almost took a dive in front of a subway train, but I managed to save him.”

  Before Charlie could answer, the connection was broken.

  He replaced the receiver and stood at his desk for a long minute. In all the years he’d worked for the Badgetts, the worst he’d done was to speak to potential witnesses as he had spoken to Billy Campbell, and later arrange laundered payments to them. It had never gone beyond that. He could get the book thrown at him for tampering with witnesses, but this was different, and much more serious. They want me to be involved in whatever happens to Billy Campbell and Nor Kelly if I can’t convince them to keep their mouths shut, he thought. I’ve never seen Junior and Eddie as foul tempered as they were today, and I know it’s because they’re worried.

  He closed the door to his office and walked to the elevator. Even if Billy Campbell and Nor Kelly agreed to forget what they had overheard, would that be enough to ensure their safety?

  Charlie doubted it.

  Nor’s Place was bustling when Billy and Sterling returned at eight o’clock. The dinner hour was in full swing and the bar was busy. Nor was talking to people at a table near the bar, but as though she had eyes in the back of her head, she turned around the instant Billy walked into the dining room. Her face brightened, and she hurried over to him.

  “How did it go?”

  Billy grinned. “Chip Holmes is crazy about the ‘special quality to my singing.’ ”

  He does a pretty good imitation of Chip Holmes, Sterling thought. He captures that nasal quality.

  Nor threw her arms around him. “Oh, Billy, that’s fantastic.” She signaled to a nearby waiter. “Nick, we’re celebrating. Bring us a bottle of Dom Perignon.”

  I wouldn’t mind a glass of that, Sterling thought. As he took his usual seat at Nor’s table, a host of memories rushed through his mind.

  His mother and father opening a bottle of “Dom” on his twenty-first birthday…

  Another “bit of the bubbly” shared with them when he passed the bar exam…

  That wonderful crisp October day when he and Annie had driven with another couple to visit the Roosevelt home in Hyde Park. On the way back they stopped for a picnic lunch on the Palisades, and Annie had surprised everyone when she trotted out a chilled bottle of champagne and four glasses.

  After I finished mine, I drank half of hers, he thought. Oh, Annie!

  Sterling swallowed over a lump in his throat and realized he hadn’t been paying attention to Billy and Nor. Obviously Billy had told her about the meeting, because she was saying, “Billy, that’s wonderful! You’re on your way.”

  None of them noticed that Sean O’Brien had come into the restaurant. They all looked up, surprised, when he joined them.

  “Sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier, Nor,” he apologized. “Next time call me on my cell phone. Has anything else happened?”

  “Tell Sean about the call from Badgett Enterprises, Billy,” Nor said.

  Sterling watched Sean O’Brien’s expression darken as Billy related the scholarship offer.

  When Billy shrugged his shoulders and said, “So that’s it,” Sean’s first question was to ask if he had told the FBI about the call.

  Billy nodded. “Rich Meyers wasn’t in his office. I left a message.”

  “He called back here at about five o’clock,”Nor said quietly. “My impression is that he thinks it was an iron fist in a velvet glove kind of warning.”

  O’Brien looked grim. “Listen, after being a detective for nearly thirty years, I know too much about these people. The iron fist will be front and center if you don’t fall in line.”

  Billy, tell O’Brien about what happened in the subway, Sterling pleaded silently. You need protection.

  “I guess we have no choice but to wait it out,” Nor said. “Look, here’s the champagne. On a happier note, we’re drinking to Billy’s future.” She turned to him. “You’d better sip that fast. We have to go on pretty soon.”

  Billy got up. “I’ll take it upstairs with me. I have to change, and I want to give Marissa a call. You know her. She wanted me to give her the scoop as soon as I got back.”

  I’ll just wait here and keep Nor company, Sterling decided, when Dennis appeared from the bar.

  “I wanted to congratulate Billy, but he’s disappeared already.”

  “He went upstairs to change,” Nor said.

  Sterling listened as Nor happily filled the men in on Billy’s meeting with the recording executives. Then she said, “The news about the contract is wonderful, but I can’t tell you guys how tense I’ve been all day. Ever since Billy got that phone call, I’ve been so afraid of what the Badgetts might do next… And right now I’d better get ready myself,” Nor concluded. “We’re on in fifteen minutes. Can you stay, Sean?”

  “For a while. Kate’s on duty tonight.”

  Dennis turned to Sean. “I’ve got to get back to work. Why don’t you sit at the bar?”

  As the group broke up, they all spotted Billy running down the stairs, a fire extinguisher under his arm.

  “Mom, your car is on fire,” he snapped. “I called 911.”

  Word of the fire spread through the dining room. Dennis grabbed a fire extinguisher from the bar. O’Brien and Sterling one step behind him, he raced outside to the blazing vehicle and, with Billy, tried to extinguish the flames.

  Nor came out of the restaurant, surrounded by several diners whom she had been trying to calm.

  Fire trucks came roaring into the parking lot, and immediately the firefighters ordered people to stand back.

  It took only a few minutes for the fire to be extinguished. Nor’s car had been in its usual spot near the kitchen entrance, well away from the general parking area.

  Then Nor called, “Come on, everybody.” She stood at the door, ushering people back into the restaurant.

  When the hoses were turned off, the fire chief, Randy Coyne, accompanied by a Madison Village police officer, s
poke to Nor, Billy, Sean, and Dennis privately in Nor’s office.

  “Nor, your car’s a loss, but it could have been a lot worse. At least the fire didn’t spread to any other vehicles, and I can tell you right now you’re lucky it didn’t spread to the restaurant.”

  “How did it start?” Nor asked quietly.

  “We think it was doused with gasoline.”

  For a moment there was complete silence in the room, then Sean O’Brien said, “Randy, we have some idea of who’s behind this, but it’s a matter for the FBI. They’re already investigating a telephoned threat Billy got this morning.”

  “Then call them immediately,” the police officer said. “I’m going to make sure that we have a patrol car stationed here overnight.”

  “And one at Nor’s house,” Sean O’Brien said firmly.

  “I’ll be glad to know someone’s keeping an eye out,” Nor admitted.

  Sean turned to Nor and Billy. “Nor, a piece of advice. The best thing you can do right now is for you and Billy to go out there and conduct business as usual.”

  “Wish I could stay for your show,” the fire chief said with a half smile.

  “I’ll be outside until I can get someone posted here and at your home, Mrs. Kelly,” the cop promised.

  Billy waited until they were gone, then said slowly, “Something happened to me in the subway today. I really thought it was my own stupidity, but…”

  Sterling watched the expressions on the faces of Nor, Dennis, and O’Brien become increasingly grave as Billy told them what had happened on the way home.

  “The same guy who jostled you at the edge pulled you back,” Sean said flatly. “That’s an old trick with these people.”

  The phone rang. Billy answered it. He listened for an instant as the color drained from his face. Then, the receiver still in his hand, he said, “Someone just told me he’s sorry he bumped into me on the platform, and maybe next time I should borrow my mother’s car when I come in to New York.”

  An instant later in eternity, but one week later by the earthly calendar, Sterling requested and received a meeting with the Heavenly Council.