Chapter 30
Friday morning I joined Jeannine and Delbert in the waiting room and said, “Delbert, I have your final paycheck. As I said when I hired you, the job was just for the duration of the case, which is now officially closed. With your help it was a success.” I handed him an envelope. “I added an extra two weeks pay as our way of saying thank you for a job well done.”
The information about the severance package didn’t seem to register. Instead his eyes focused on the box I had carried into the room, wrapped in red paper with a blue ribbon and bow. “What’s that?” he asked.
“This is a little something extra that I got for you,” I said as I handed him the box.
Delbert removed the wrapping paper with one mighty swoop of his beefy hand, “Oh my God, what is it?” he asked even though the contents were clearly marked on the cardboard box within. Using two hands he ripped open the box and his eyes lit up when he saw that it contained 24 packages of Double-Stuff Oreo cookies. “Cool. I never saw this many Oreos in one place; not even in the grocery stores. Let’s eat some,” he said as he ripped one of the packages open.
“It’s only 9:30 Delbert. Don’t you think it’s a little early for cookies?” I asked.
“Isn’t this, like, a going-away party?” he asked.
“Of course it is,” said Jeannine. “May I have a cookie?”
Delbert stuck his mitt into the package and came out with about six cookies. When I saw that his hands hadn’t been washed I picked up the package and offered it to Jeannine. She carefully selected one cookie as Delbert shoved half of what was in his hand into his mouth. “OK, I’ll join you,” I said.
“I have a present for you, too,” Jeannine said.
“Really,” he replied, spraying cookie fragments as he turned his head toward her.
Jeannine reached under her desk and removed a box wrapped in paper that said, “We’ll miss you,” all over it. Delbert put his cookies down for a moment and removed the paper. He opened the box and his jaw dropped. Not a pretty sight. With eyes full of wonder he removed a Superman long sleeve T-shirt.
“This is awesome! Look at this!” he exclaimed as he pointed to the red cape on the back of the shirt that hung down with another foot of material below the front and sides. Delbert pulled it on over his uniform shirt and immediately made muscles with his arms.
“I have a great idea,” I said. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off and wear the shirt over to the Center to show everybody.”
“You’re a really cool boss,” he said, grabbed his case of Oreos, and headed for the door.
“Don’t forget your paycheck,” I said, sticking the envelope in his hand.
He tossed it into his box of cookies and said, “I won’t forget it in there.” In a moment he was out the door with a smile and a lot of double-stuff on his face.
At 11:30 AM I met Shamansky at Metro headquarters to look at a couple of line-ups. Two of the Russian paratroopers survived gunshot wounds and were now deemed healthy enough to be identified. The police wanted me to see if either of the survivors was involved in the shooting of Vladimir Torhan. I was hoping to see one of the guys from the Dali Lama the night I played with Doberman’s Stub, but it was not to be. I did manage to identify all four of them when I was shown photos of the deceased. “Can I get a copy. I know a police lieutenant in Odessa who will sleep a lot better once he knows these guys are on their way to hell.”
“You got it,” Shamansky said. When we reached the copy machine he said, “Your mother invited me to dinner tomorrow night.”
“I know,” I replied. “They want to celebrate me and Dennis Kerrigan not screwing things up.”
“I’m not going to be the token non-Irishman, am I?” he asked.
“Absolutely not,” I replied, “unless you bring an Irish girl as a date. But I wouldn’t recommend it. I’m trying to reverse the adverse effects of social inbreeding.”
“Then count me in,” he said as he handed me my prints.
“Was my dad any help during the interrogations?”
“Actually, he was a big help. We weren’t getting anywhere with either of the hooligans. It was apparent they were going to stonewall us until Nigel showed up with the legal team. Then, toward the end of the day, I was taking a last shot at Billingsly when Jim came into the interrogation room and said he was the warden from the city jail. He said he had family in Belfast who were blown up by Orangemen and he had a special cellmate for Billingsly, and wanted to take him right away, before any lawyers showed up.”
“What did Billingsly say?” I asked.
“He got really nervous and asked who the cellmate would be. Your dad told him it was a Catholic from Portadown whose daughter lost an arm in an explosion during the Orangeman parade last year. He said the prisoner was 6’4” and 250 pounds of pure muscle. I guess your dad did his homework on the bombing because it was clear Billingsly knew all about it and went into a panic. From the way he reacted I’d guess Billingsly was in on the blast and was sure the Irishman was about to tear him apart. He gave a full confession in about 15 minutes. I was truly impressed,” Shamansky said.
I got back to the office at about 2:30 PM and found Jeannine talking with Ivana. A burly looking bodyguard-type accompanied her and sat on the waiting room couch with a blank stare.
“Ivana, this is a pleasant surprise,” I said.
“I wanted to say goodbye,” she said. “I’m going to be living with my uncle and his family in Dana Point. I also came to thank you, Jason.”
“You thanked me at your house.”
“Uncle Peter had his lawyer contact Mrs. Tucker. He said he was expecting her to file suit, but she told him that you spoke with her about me and she isn’t going to take me to court. I’m sure this will make it a lot easier fitting in with my new family.”
“What are you going to do with Cerise Records?”
“Mr. Tyler has taken over, but he’s in the process of selling. He’s giving the surviving members of Doberman’s Stub a great deal on the third CD, then releasing them from their contract.”
“That seems very generous,” I observed.
“I think everybody is trying to avoid giving all of the money to the lawyers.”
“That certainly sounds like the best way to go for all concerned,” I said.
“Are you going to miss living in a castle?” asked Jeannine.
“Not at all,” she replied. “I have to get going, but I brought along a couple of going-away presents.” She reached into her large purse and handed Jeannine a snow globe of the Kremlin. “Here’s a nice replica of the best-known castle in all of Russia.”
Jeannine held it on her fingertips and looked delighted. “This is beautiful.”
Ivana then handed me a CD in a special case. She had hand-painted a cover that said, Doberman’s Stub Live at the Dali Lama Yo Mama. “The sound man, Mr. Martin, recorded the show. I thought you’d like to have a copy of it.”
“I love the art work. How does it sound?” I asked.
“You sound terrific, but, I was told to warn you that it can’t end up on the Internet, OK?”
“It will go no further that my living room and the sound system in my car,” I said. “Thank you so much for doing this.”
Ivana beamed at my reaction, then gave us hugs and departed.
An hour later I got a call from Jack Pascal who asked if he and Ian could meet me at my office tomorrow at 10:00 AM. I agreed.