The Investigators Part 56

"What's he want?"

"He didn't say."

Fiorello. It has to be Joey Fiorello. What's with him?

"Is he still on the phone?"

"Yeah," she said and lifted the handset from the bedside-table telephone and handed it to him.

"Philip Chason."

"Joey Fiorello, Phil."

"What can I do you for?"

"I got a quick, good-paying job for you, if you're interested."

"Joey, I'm up to my a.s.s in alligators."

"You heard what I said about good-paying?"

"What does that mean?"

"This is important to me."

"What does that come out to in round figures? And for what?"

"Phil, you're hurting my feelings. You know that I pay good. I thought we were friends."

"What do you want from me, Joey?"

"I want you to ask a few quick, discreet questions."

"Ask who a few quick, discreet questions?"

"Look, Phil, are you going to help me out on this or not?"

"I told you, Joey, I'm up to my a.s.s in work. Whether I can help you depends on what you want me to do, and how much it's worth to you."

"Let me put it to you this way, Phil. You come to my office in the next hour, and let me explain what I want you to do for me, and that'll be worth two hundred to me, whether or not you can help me out."

"Two-fifty, Joey," Phil said.

"Jesus. And I thought we were friends," Joey Fiorello said, obviously p.i.s.sed. "Okay. Two-fifty. I'll be expecting you. Thank you, Phil."

The line went dead in his ear.

"What was that all about?" Irene asked.

"I don't have a G.o.dd.a.m.n clue," Phil said as he swung his feet out of bed.

The warm smile on Joey Fiorello's face when Phil Chason walked into his office at Fiorello's Fine Cars forty-five minutes later, was, Phil thought, about as phony as a three-dollar bill.

I wonder why he didn't tell me to go f.u.c.k myself when I held him up for two-fifty? And he must need me; otherwise, he would have.

"Thank you for coming, Phil," Joey said. "I appreciate it."

"So what's up?"

"Can I have Helene get you a cup of coffee? Or a Danish? And And a Danish?" a Danish?"

"Yeah. Thank you. You said this was important, so I came right away without my breakfast."

"I appreciate that," Joey said and raised his voice: "Helene!"

The magnificently bosomed Helene put her head in the door.

"Honey, would you get Mr. Chason a cup of coffee and a Danish, please?"

"Be happy to. If there's any Danish left."

"If there's no Danish left, honey, send one of my so-called salesmen after some."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Fiorello," Helene said.

Joey reached into his pocket and peeled five fifty-dollar bills off a wad held together with a gold paper clip and handed them to Phil.

"If I can't get you a Danish, the least I can do is pay what I owe you," he said with a smile.

"Thank you," Phil said. "Like the man said, money may not be everything, but it's way ahead of whatever's in second place."

"Absolutely," Joey said.

"So, what's on your mind, Joey?"

"I'm sure I can trust you to keep what I'm about to tell you to yourself."

"That would depend on what you want to tell me," Phil said. "Let me put that another way. As long as it's legal, you can trust me."

"Absolutely G.o.dd.a.m.ned legal," Joey said. "Jesus Christ, Phil, what do you think? I'm a businessman."

What I think is that you're in bed with the mob, is what I think.

"No offense, Joey. But we should understand each other."

"I agree one hundred percent," Joey said. "And you have my word I would never ask you to do anything that would in any way be illegal."

"Okay. Fine."

"The thing is, Phil, I'm a silent partner in the Howard Johnson motel on Roosevelt Boulevard. You know where I mean?"

Phil nodded.

Why don't I believe that?

"Nice, solid investment. You know, people trust a place with Howard Johnson's name on it."

"Yeah, I guess they do."

"You know how that works, Phil? I mean, it's a franchise. We pay them a percentage of the gross. We get to use the name, and they set the standards. They got inspectors-you never know who they are-who come and stay in the place, and eat in the coffee shop, and check things . . . see if the bathrooms are clean, that sort of thing. You understand?"

Phil nodded.

"They insist that we run a high-cla.s.s operation," Joey said. "A nice, clean, respectable place, a family place, by which I mean that a Howard Johnson is not a no-tell motel, you know what I mean?"

"I understand," Phil said.

"The way the contract is drawn, we don't keep the place up to standard, they have the right to do one of two things: either make us sell the place, or take down the sign."

"Is that so?"

"Which would cost us a bundle. Which would cost me, since I have a large piece of that action, a large bundle, if Howard Johnson should decide to pull our franchise."

"And you're worried about that happening, is that what you're driving at?"

"I am worried s.h.i.+tless," Joey said.

"Why?"> "Can you believe there was a drug bust at the Howard Johnson last Thursday night? Can you believe that?"

"Drugs are all over, Joey, you know that."

"Not in my f.u.c.king Howard Johnson motel, they're not supposed to be."

"Those things happen, Joey."

"Like I said I'm a silent partner. I put up the money, and the other partners run the place. Which means they hire the manager."

"Okay."

"He's a brother-in-law of one of the partners. His name is Leonard Hansen."

"And?"

"So far as I know, he's as honest as the day is long."

"Okay."

"So far as I know, is what I said."

Helene came into the office with two mugs of coffee and a half-dozen Danish.

She gave Phil-maybe innocently, maybe not-a good look down her dress as she put his mug and the Danish on the coffee table in front of him.

"No calls, and make sure n.o.body walks in here on Mr. Chason and me, Helene," Joey said.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Fiorello."

Joey waited until she had left the office and closed the door.

"Where was I, Phil?"

"You were saying that so far as you know, the manager of the Howard Johnson is honest."

"Right. And, so far as I know, he knows how to run a motel. We take a nice little profit out of that place."

"Okay."

"Okay. Now, maybe I'm wrong, and I hope to Christ I am, but two things worry me."

"Such as?"

"The drug bust, of course. And then me not hearing about it for three days. Not until last night, and it happened on Thursday."

"Why does that worry you?"

"Like I said, I really hope I'm wrong, but with the amount of money we're talking about, hope don't count."

"I'm not sure where you're going, Joey. You think the manager has something to do with the drugs?"

"What I'm saying, Phil, is that we don't pay him a whole h.e.l.l of a lot of money. I don't really know what I'm talking about here. But drugs in a Howard Johnson motel?"

"What are you thinking?"

"I don't have any idea how it could have gotten started, but hear me out. You got a guy making peanuts, like Leonard Hansen. He finds out that he can pick up a couple of hundred tax-free by loaning somebody a motel-room key for a couple of hours. You beginning to see where I'm coming from?"

"Yeah."

"And all of a sudden, it comes out-I have the highest respect for the detectives who work Narcotics-that my Howard Johnson motel is is a no-tell motel. Not hookers, but much f.u.c.king worse-as far as the Howard Johnson people are concerned-drugs. That's all Howard Johnson would have to hear. So long, franchise. They'd pull that franchise so quick . . ." a no-tell motel. Not hookers, but much f.u.c.king worse-as far as the Howard Johnson people are concerned-drugs. That's all Howard Johnson would have to hear. So long, franchise. They'd pull that franchise so quick . . ."

"I see your point. So you want me to check this Leonard Hansen out?"

"I really hope you find him as clean as a whistle," Joey said. "But you understand, Phil, why I have to know?"

"I understand your problem, Joey."