The Bricklayer - Boyd Noah (лучшие книги читать онлайн бесплатно без регистрации txt) 📗

“Exactly what kind of dining experience did you ask her about?”

“You certainly are asking a lot of questions.”

“Sorry, just trying to keep my honor intact.”

“As an occasionally honorable person, I can tell you it’s overrated. Besides, you’re freshly wounded.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“I wouldn’t want to be responsible for ripping open your stitches.”

Kate laughed musically. “You must be quite the athlete. And an even bigger optimist.”

“You’re the one who started it.”

“Me?”

“You’re wearing a dress, and unless my eyes are going, it’s a little shorter than the last time.”

She blushed and looked down at the menu. “I wanted to look nice for you.”

“Accomplished.”

She let her eyes drift up to him slowly. “Thank you.”

“This isn’t a sympathy date, is it? You know, because I’m about to get fired?”

“I thought you were better at reading people than that.”

“Only when it comes to evil intentions. When it comes to the good stuff, I don’t have a clue.”

“That would imply a lack of exposure to the good stuff.”

“Finally someone to show me some compassion,” Vail said. “I’m ready to leave right now.”

“Slow down there, Secretariat. First things first. Since the government is paying for this meal, let’s get the paid advertisements out of the way up front,” Kate said. “The director asked about you this morning.”

“Next time you talk to him, tell him Steve said ‘Hey.’”

“He wants you to stay on board. He said you could work any case you want, anywhere in the country.”

“The work’s not the problem. It’s the bosses.”

“You would report only to him.”

Vail laughed. “You’re becoming quite the salesman, aren’t you, saving that last little tidbit to ambush me because you knew it would be my final line of defense.”

Kate interlaced her fingers and rested her chin on them. “Go ahead, Steve. I want to see how creative your excuse is for not accepting.”

“How about ‘I’ll think about it’?”

“Legitimately?”

“Legitimately.”

The waiter came, and they both ordered the veal. Vail asked him, “Is Nina here?”

“She’s in the kitchen. Did you want to speak to her?” he said, pointing to the back.

“That’s all right. I can go back there.” When the waiter left, Vail asked Kate, “Did you bring the photos of Radek and his crew?”

“Now?”

“Sorry.”

Kate took the mug shots out of her purse and handed them to Vail. “When you called and said you wanted them, I figured it was for tomorrow. I’m beginning to find your concierge story a tad suspicious.”

Vail refilled her glass with the thick velvety wine the owner had sent over. He got up and leaned over, touching his cheek to hers. He let it linger a moment. Then he turned his head until his lips were just touching her ear and whispered, “Would I lie to you?”

A shudder of pleasure ran through her and she shrugged her shoulder toward her ear in an unconvincing gesture of modesty. Then, as though trying to neutralize Vail’s surprising effect on her, she said, “Considering the primary directive of all men—absolutely.”

Vail laughed. “You’re not leaving me much room to operate.” He walked up to the front of the restaurant, where the owner was lining out a reservation. He extended his hand. “Thanks for the wine, Armand.”

He shook his hand and smiled. “For you, I send over the stuff that doesn’t come from a box.”

Vail noticed that Sargasso’s accent had shifted from Brooklyn back a little closer to Italy, apparently something the customers found authentic. “It’s very nice,” Vail said. He looked back at Kate. “I hope it’s as strong as it is good.”

The restaurateur stared at Kate appreciatively. “Molto bello. Maybe I send another bottle to make sure.” Sargasso wagged his eyebrows.

“Thanks, but I think you’ve done enough. Is it all right if I go in the kitchen and talk to Nina? I promise to stay out of everyone’s way.”

Sargasso looked back out the door to make sure no one was coming in and said, “Come on.” Vail followed him into the kitchen and introduced Nina, a thickset woman whose hands were julienning vegetables with a practiced consistency. “This is the man from the FBI I told you about who was asking about the Garlic Man. Please help him if you can.” Sargasso slapped Vail on the shoulder and went back out through the swinging door.

He took out the pictures of Radek, Simms, and Hudson. Since Salton was dead and Pendaran was in custody at the time, they couldn’t have purchased the meals. Vail laid the photos on the counter in front of the sous-chef as she continued to cut the yellow and green vegetables. She blew a long strand of graying hair away from her eyes. “The one on the right, that’s him,” she said. It was Victor Radek.

“Did he say anything other than giving you the order?”

“When I told him that was an awful lot of garlic, he said the weirdest thing. He said, ‘Only if you’re going to eat it.’”

“That makes more sense than you know. Anything else?”

“No, that was about it. Paid with a credit card. Gave me the creeps the way he smiled at me.”

“How so?”

“It wasn’t real, like he had never smiled before.”

“Thanks for your time.” Vail went back to the table, where a fresh bottle of wine had been delivered. Kate nodded toward it. “Quite the operator, aren’t you? Another bottle with the owner’s compliments.” She held up her glass as if to toast Vail.

“I told him I was getting nowhere with you sober.”

“So this Nina, is she my competition?” she said playfully.

“As if anyone could compete with you.”

“There isn’t enough wine in this entire place to get me to swallow that line.”

Vail sat down. “I told you I wasn’t very good at this.”

“Don’t panic just yet, bricklayer, you’re doing all right.”

“That’s a little teaser to get me to tell what happened in the kitchen, isn’t it?”

She tilted her head coyly. “Is it?”

Vail stared at her as if making a decision. “Okay, on the off chance that this will help close the deal, here’s what I’ve been doing. Remember the trash can in the backseat of the car?”

“A story that starts with a garbage can and winds up in a kitchen doesn’t sound like it’s going to be very interesting.”

“That’s the good thing about it, it’s not interesting at all.” The waiter brought their veal, and when he was gone, Vail said, “It would probably be more exciting talking about what we’re going to have for dessert. Or for dessert after dessert.”

“Hmmm, methinks he protests too little. Maybe you better give me the boring details.”

Vail told her about Nina’s identifying Radek as having come to the restaurant the afternoon before, ordering the two heavily seasoned meals, and saying they were not for eating. “So then he puts one where he hides the two million dollars and the other in the building last night.”

“Why?”

“He wanted them to be noticed. The one from last night set up our noticing the one today. In case we survived last night.”

“That means he expected us to find the laundry. Would he leave the money there and then direct us to it?”

“He didn’t plan on dying. If we did somehow survive the shoot-out, he would have gone to the laundry and taken the two million out and left the metal box to electrocute one of us. And just in case that didn’t happen, he left the second garlic clue.”

“To lead us where?”

“Does it matter? He’s dead.”

“Well, something good did come out of the money being destroyed.”

“What’s that?” Vail asked.

“If there were doubts that Radek was dead, there’s no way he would have let it burn up if he were alive.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“But DNA already said he was dead. Why did you chase down this clue?”

“My only reason for checking this out was to make sure it was Radek and not somebody else we didn’t know about,” Vail said. “That’s why I wanted the photos.”