“Did it work?”
“No. Angeli surprised the hell out of me by putting up a fight to keep Stevens out of jail.”
Sullivan looked up, puzzled. “But why?”
“Because he was trying to knock him off and he couldn’t get to him if he were locked up.”
“When McGreavy began to put the pressure on,” Captain Bertelli said, “Angeli came to me hinting that McGreavy was trying to frame Dr. Stevens.”
“We were sure then that we were on the right track,” McGreavy said. “Stevens hired a private detective named Norman Moody. I checked Moody out and learned that he had tangled with Angeli before when a client of Moody’s was picked up by Angeli on a drug rap. Moody said his client was framed. Knowing what I know now, I’d say Moody was telling the truth.”
“So Moody lucked into the answer from the beginning.”
“It wasn’t all luck. Moody was bright. He knew Angeli was probably involved. When he found the bomb in Dr. Stevens’ car, he turned it over to the FBI and asked them to check it out.”
“He was afraid if Angeli got hold of it, he’d find a way to get rid of it?”
“That’s my guess. But someone slipped up and a copy of the report was sent to Angeli. He knew then that Moody was on to him. The first real break we got was when Moody came up with the name ‘Don Vinton.’ “
“Cosa Nostra for ‘The Big Man.’ “
“Yeah. For some reason, someone in La Cosa Nostra was out to get Dr. Stevens.”
“How did you tie up Angeli with La Cosa Nostra?”
“I went back to the merchants Angeli had been putting the squeeze on. When I mentioned La Cosa Nostra, they panicked. Angeli was working for one of the Cosa Nostra families, but he got greedy and was doing a little shakedown business of his own on the side.”
“Why would La Cosa Nostra want to kill Dr. Stevens?” Sullivan asked.
“I don’t know. We’re working on several angles.” He sighed wearily. “We got two lousy breaks. Angeli slipped the men we had tailing him, and Dr. Stevens ran away from the hospital before I could warn him about Angeli and give him protection.”
The switchboard flashed. An operator plugged in the call and listened a moment. “Captain Bertelli.”
Bertelli grabbed the extension phone. “Captain Bertelli.” He listened, saying nothing, then slowly replaced the receiver and turned to McGreavy. “They lost them.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
ANTHONY DEMARCO had mana.
Judd could feel the burning power of his personality across the room, coming in waves that struck like a tangible force. When Anne had said her husband was handsome, she had not exaggerated.
DeMarco had a classic Roman face with a perfectly sculptured profile, coal black eyes, and attractive streaks of gray in his dark hair. He was in his middle forties, tall and athletic, and moved with a restless animal grace. His voice was deep and magnetic. “Would you care for a drink, Doctor?”
Judd shook his head, fascinated by the man before him. Anyone would have sworn that DeMarco was a perfectly normal, charming man, a perfect host welcoming an honored guest.
There were five of them in the richly paneled library. Judd, DeMarco, Detective Angeli, and the two men who had tried to kill Judd at his apartment building, Rocky and Nick Vaccaro. They had formed a circle around Judd. He was looking into the faces of the enemy, and there was a grim satisfaction in it. Finally he knew whom he was fighting. If “fighting” was the right word. He had walked into Angeli’s trap. Worse. He had phoned Angeli and invited him to come and get him! Angeli, the Judas goat who had led him here to the slaughter.
DeMarco was studying him with deep interest, his black eyes probing. “I’ve heard a great deal about you,” he said.
Judd said nothing.
“Forgive me for having you brought here in this fashion, but it is necessary to ask you a few questions.” He smiled apologetically, radiating warmth.
Judd knew what was coming, and his mind moved swiftly ahead.
“What did you and my wife talk about, Dr. Stevens?”