Page 63
Story: The Saboteurs (Men at War 5)
Dick Canidy got on an empty elevator, pushed the 6 button, and when the doors had closed removed the Colt .45 ACP semiautomatic from his attaché case and slipped it in the small of his back.
Who knew I was here? And how?
Does the mob have insiders working here, too?
The elevator stopped and opened on the sixth floor. He stuck his head out, looking down the hall to the left and then to the right.
Nothing.
He glanced at the small signage on the wall opposite the elevator. It listed a series of room numbers that included 601, with an arrow pointing left.
He went left down the hall, found the door, put in his key and turned it.
He reached inside the door to the suite and flipped on the light switch, then entered and closed the door behind him. He went quickly through the suite, throwing light switches and checking the bedroom, the closet, the bathroom, under the bed.
There was nothing unusual—and certainly no one—in any of the rooms.
It had to be one of the guys using the pay phones outside the diner. One of them worked for Lanza and had been waiting there to follow me, then got lucky when he overheard my phone conversation. He may have even seen the number that I dialed.
But then they called ahead, left the message at the hotel before I had a chance to call them.
Did they do that to send a bigger message—“We can find you”—or was it them just not thinking.
Either way, it’s not good.
Dammit, Dick! Watch your back!
He looked around the suite and now noticed that it was very nice.
It had an outer room with two large couches and two oversized armchairs with ottomans, all upholstered in the same fine, light-colored fabric. There was a large oval coffee table, with copies of Time and Look and the Saturday Evening Post magazines on top and a big bowl of potpourri, which gave the room a pleasant, floral scent. A side table between the oversized armchairs held a thin brass lamp and a black telephone.
Canidy put his attaché case on the coffee table—almost dumping the bowl of potpourri—went to the door, locked the deadbolt, then stuck the .45 in his front right pants pocket. The pistol butt stuck out, but that didn’t bother him.
He walked over to the closed curtain that covered one wall. The curtain went from the floor to the ceiling, and when he pulled back one side he saw that Victor, the front desk clerk, had not exaggerated about the view.
The suite did have a very nice perspective on the whole neighborhood, and especially on the private park across the street. The room was up just high enough to see everything, yet not so high for details—the park’s nicely manicured topiaries, dense bushes planted in intricate checkerboard and circular patterns, and such—to be lost in the distance. There was a woman sitting on one of the wrought-iron benches, and he could almost distinguish what she was reading, while a wirehaired terrier pawed at a ball at her feet.
He let the curtain fall closed, then went through the door into the bedroom.
It had elegant wallpaper with vertical pinstripes in navy and silver. The light pine headboard and footboard of the king-sized bed matched the bedside tables on either side and the enormous dresser with its large mirror.
What a waste for one person! Ann would love this!
Canidy went into the bathroom, took a leak, then washed his hands and face at the white porcelain sink.
He removed one of the thick, soft white-cotton hand towels—each one, including the fat bath towels, had GRAMERCY PARK HOTEL stitched in neat green half-inch-high lettering—from the chrome ring affixed to the white-tiled wall and, almost like he was praying, buried his face in it.
What the hell am I getting myself into?
Then he looked up and at himself in the mirror above the sink.
Make the call.
In the outer room of the suite, he went to the armchairs, pulled the pistol from his right pocket, and put it on the side table next to the telephone. He then reached into his pocket for the message with the Lower East Side phone number and sat in the armchair to the left of the phone.
He picked up the receiver, double-checked the number on the message, and asked for 962-7625.
The call was answered on the third ring.
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