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Bobby hung his coat up. “Can we trust him?”
“Absolutely.”
“He wouldn’t be a conduit to Hoover?”
Kemper laughed. “Hardly.”
Bobby looked at him. Bobby gave him his witness-intimidation stare.
“All right. But I want you to tell the man not to do anything illegal. I don’t want a zealot out there wiretapping and God knows what else because he thinks I’ll back him up on it.”
“I’ll tell him. Now, what areas do you-?”
“Tell him I’m interested in the possibility that secret Pension Fund books exist. Tell him that if they do, it’s likely that the Chicago Mob administers them. Have him work off that supposition, and see if he can come up with any general Hoffa intelligence while he’s at it.”
Guests filed past the cloakroom. A woman trailed her mink coat on the floor. Dean Acheson almost tripped over it.
Bobby winced. Kemper saw his eyes slip out of focus.
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Is there anything else you’d-?”
“No, there isn’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
Kemper smiled and walked back to the party. The main room was crowded now-maneuvering was a chore.
The mink woman had heads turning.
She made a butler pet her coat. She insisted that Leonard Bernstein try it on. She mambo-stepped through the crowd and snatched Joe Ke
Joe gave her a small, gift-wrapped box. The woman tucked it in her purse. Three Ke
Peter Lawford ogled the woman. Be
Kemper took a private elevator down to the lobby. He picked up a courtesy phone and badgered the switchboard girl for a straight patch to Chicago.
She put him through. Helen answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“It’s me, sweetheart. The one you used to have a crush on.”
“Kemper! What are you doing with that syrupy southern accent!”
“I’m engaged in subterfuge.”
“Well, I’m engaged in law school and looking for an apartment, and it is so difficult!”
“All good things are. Ask your middle-aged boyfriend, he’ll tell you.”
Helen whispered. “Ward’s been moody and secretive lately. Will you try to-?”
Littell came on the line. “Kemper, hi.”
Helen blew kisses and put her extension down. Kemper said, “Hello, son.”
“Hello yourself. I hate to be abrupt, but have you-?”
“Yes, I have.”
“And?”
“And Bobby said yes. He said he wants you to work for us sub rosa, and he wants you to follow up on that lead Roland Kirpaski gave us, and try to determine if there really are secret Pension Fund books hiding untold zillions of dollars.”
“Good. This is… very good.”
Kemper lowered his voice. “Bobby reiterated what I told you. Don’t take u
Littell said, “I’ll be careful. I may have a Mob man compromised on a homicide, and I think I might be able to turn him as an informant.”
The mink woman walked through the lobby. A slew of bellboys rushed to get the door for her.
“Ward, I have to go.”
“God bless you for this, Kemper. And tell Mr. Ke
Kemper hung up and walked outside. Wind roared down 76th Street and toppled trashcans set out on the curb.
The mink woman was standing under the hotel canopy. She was unwrapping Joe Ke
Kemper stood a few feet away from her. The gift was a diamond broach tucked inside a roll of thousand-dollar bills.
A wino stumbled by. The mink woman gave him the broach. Wind fa
The wino giggled and looked at his broach. Kemper laughed out loud.
A cab pulled up. The mink woman leaned in and said, “881 Fifth Avenue.”
Kemper opened the door for her.
She said, “Aren’t the Ke
Her eyes were drop-dead translucent green.
15
One jiggle snapped the lock. Littell pulled his pick out and closed the door behind him.
Passing headlights strafed the windows. The front room was small and filled with antiques and art deco gewgaws.
His eyes adjusted to the dark. There was good outside light-he didn’t need to risk turning lamps on.
Le
The Icepick Tony killing was five days old and unsolved. The TV and papers omitted one fact: that Ia
Giancana couldn’t believe a self-evident fact Giancana thought Tony walked into Perry’s Little Log Cabin by mistake.
Littell got out his pen flash and Minox. Le
Le
Eclectic Le
One strange thing: His Mob address/numbers didn’t match the on-file THP listings.
Littell flipped pages. Odd names hit him.
Senator John Ke
He shot through the book alphabetically. He held the pen flash in his teeth and snapped one photograph per page. He notched thirty-two exposures up to the M’s.
His legs ached from squatting down to shoot The flash kept slipping out of his mouth.
He heard key/lock noise. He heard door rattles-NINETY MINUTES AHEAD OF SCHED-
Littell hugged the wall by the door. He replayed every judo move Kemper taught him.
Le
He did it Kemper-pure. Le
Le
Littell eased off the carotid. Le
Littell knelt beside him. Littell pulled out his revolver and cocked it.
“I’m with the Chicago FBI. I’ve got you for the Tony Ia
Le
He saw a liquor tray by the couch. Cut-glass decanters full of scotch, bourbon and brandy.
Le
It held two blood-crusted switchblades.
He showed them to Le
It was a bluff. All he got were smears.
“You’ve got no choice in this, Le
Le
Le
“I know bubkes about the Fund. What I know is that co