Deadly Diamonds (35 page)

“And?”

“I went to where O'Byrne and Barone were meeting at the beach. When I got there, Barone was dead. He was slumped over the steering wheel of his Cadillac. Kevin O'Byrne was searching his pockets. I came up behind him. I had my gun on him. He turned around. He had a gun on me too.”

“So what'd you do?”

“I was scared crap out of my mind. I knew if I went back without
killing Barone and the Irish guy got the diamonds, Mr. Pesta'd kill me.”

“So?”

“O'Byrne didn't want a bullet either. We made a deal. We'd say I killed Barone. I fixed him up like a traitor like Mr. Pesta told me. O'Byrne said he'd go along with the story if I let him get the diamonds. It had to look right. I had to get back to Pesta quick. I told O'Byrne I'd put Barone in the trunk. I'd drive the Cadillac back to Collini's like I was supposed to. I'd leave the keys in the car while I went in, like I was going to come back and search Barone for the diamonds later. The O'Byrne kid could steal the Cadillac. Then he could search the body himself for the diamonds. I guess that's what he did. Then he drove the car back to his father's place.”

“And that's when Frank O'Byrne called me in to make the peace for his poor, sweet, innocent son.”

“That's the truth.”

“I know it is, Tommy. It sounds right.”

I looked over at Seamus. He gave me an agreeing nod.

I walked outside the building and dialed the private number of Billy Coyne.

“You remember that promise I made you about the O'Byrnes? I'm one step closer, but I need your help. I'm going to give you the mother lode. I need to have you work some of that witness protection magic. Can you do it?”

“Who is it?”

“Tommy Franzone. He can give you testimony on everyone up to Antonio Pesta. He can also lay the murder of Barone on Kevin O'Byrne.”

“How about the father?”

“That's a little tricky. I've got to stay clear of anything I learned when I was representing Kevin. That was before he tried to kill me. I'm working on that. If it works out, you should be able to get him at least for accessory after the fact to Barone's murder.”

There was a pause. “Okay, kid. Franzone's good for a starter against Kevin O'Byrne. I'll need more. Defense counsel will tear Franzone apart as a witness. He's a thug himself with a rival gang. You know what you'd do to him on the stand.”

“I know. At least give me credit for a good start. I'm working on the wrap-up. What'll I tell Franzone?”

“I'll set it up with the U. S. Attorney. He'll want a piece of this too. Where's Franzone now?”

I told him.

“Stay with him. I'll send someone.”

“I'll babysit, but make it fast. These days I don't feel good about being in one place too long.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The stage was set for what I prayed would be the final scene that lay between me and a life of title searching. As nearly as I could figure, each member of the cast was primed and motivated according to plan. It was now up to me to bring them together and let the sparks fly.

In one corner, we had Kevin and Frank O'Byrne. Fortunately for my wishes, Kevin had interjected himself prematurely into Frank's plans for a deal in blood diamonds—and he had blown it monumentally. His blundering efforts had left the two of them with no diamonds, no profits, and a murder rap hanging over their heads. I figured that any option to get back in the game would sound appealing—even if it came from me.

In the other corner, we had Packy Salviti, the heir to Salvatore Barone's ambition to make enough profit on the sale of diamonds to the Irish to take command of the family out of the hands of Antonio Pesta. Packy had also blown it. He, too, had neither diamonds nor profits. And unless he came by an immediate windfall of cash and the power that came with it, he could find himself on Pesta's short list of disposable soldiers. That could motivate him to accept the invitation I had in mind.

My first approach was to the O'Byrnes. I figured Kevin had had time to bring Frank up to date on his latest fiasco as a big-time mobster. They had also had time to attribute the switch of the glass for diamonds to me. I had no intention of taking my vulnerable body into that hornets' nest. I reached them by phone. Frank answered.

“You damn little shyster, you! You think you pull this crap on me and live? I have men looking for you in every rathole in this city. I'll tell you what I'm gonna do to you. I get you, I'm gonna—”

I figured it was best to let him spew it out. I held the phone down to avoid taking in images that could cause sleepless nights. When the rant seemed to have petered out in what sounded like, “You hear me, you damn shyster?” I chimed in.

“Good morning, Frank. Say, with all we've been through together, may I call you ‘Frank'?”

That seemed to have rewound his rubber band. He ripped on for another minute. I jumped in at the first silence for fear of a slamming of the phone on his end that would leave nothing accomplished.

“Hear this, Frank. I have a deal that could put you right back where you want to be in the diamond business. There's money to be made. A lot of it. If you're through with the temper tantrum, let's talk business.”

That seemed to cut through Frank's Irish temper to the part of his brain that told him it's all about business. There was a welcome silence and no hang up.

“What the hell you talkin' about?”

“I'm talking about a deal that puts you at the table with Packy Salviti. He has the diamonds. He's ready to sell. Same price as before Junior decided to get his feet wet in the big pool. You bring the cash. Packy brings the diamonds. We sit down like businessmen. We do the deal and leave. No gunplay. No cheating. Nice and clean. Are you in or out?”

Again, a pause. I think the sudden turn had him off balance. Not for long. At the center of Frank's alleged heart was a cool, hard core of greed.

“Hey, lawyer. What the hell do you get out of this? Why should I trust you?”

“Because if you have half the sense people say you have, you can see that all the shooting and knifing and gangster shenanigans has left everyone holding the crap end of the stick. If we do it my way, you make out. Packy makes out. And I get a good commission from
Packy. Plus, I get to go on with my life and forget about the both of you. That's what's in it for me. Again, and for the last time, are you in or out?”

I could hear talking through a hand over the phone with someone in the room—probably Kevin. It took thirty seconds, but he was back.

“So, how do we do it?”

I laid down the ground rules that I had thought out in advance. Frank agreed, for whatever the word of a lifelong thug was worth. I didn't care. The trick was to get them to the table. Whatever fireworks went off after that was out of my control anyway.

The next call went to Packy Salviti. This promised to be easier. At least at our last meeting, he hadn't tried to blow me into numerous pieces. That was a plus.

“Packy, I bet you never expected to hear from me again.”

“Yeah. Broke my heart. What the hell is this? An invitation to lunch at the Four Seasons?”

“Not quite. Although we might wind up there for a celebration dinner.”

“Celebratin' what?”

“The completion of a successful business deal. I'm giving you the chance to sell those diamonds you've been looking for for one hell of a profit to the original buyer, Frank O'Byrne. He still wants to do business with you and your organization.”

“What the hell?”

“That's right. O'Byrne agreed to get the deal back on track. This time like businessmen, not—forgive the indelicacy—two gangs of imbecilic thugs. What do you think?”

“I think you got your head up your ass. Where I always thought it was. There's one problem.”

“Which is?”

“You gotta have the damn diamonds to sell 'em. I don't. You might remember.”

“Not a problem, Packy. Frank O'Byrne will bring the cash. You'll bring yourself. And I'll bring the diamonds.”

“The hell. You got 'em?”

“Would I lie to you, Packy?”

“Yeah. Every time you open your damn mouth. Hey, listen, lawyer, what do you get out of this if I get the cash?”

“I keep getting that question. I'm beginning to think you people don't trust me. I'm sensitive about that, Packy.”

“Cut the crap. Answer the question.”

“If I can get you the price originally agreed on, I'm sure you wouldn't mind cutting me in for, say, fifteen percent.”

Packy rebounded faster than I gave him credit for. “Ten percent.”

If it panned out the way I hoped, the percentage would be irrelevant, but I had to make a show. “Thirteen percent.”

“Twelve percent.”

“Done.”

I laid out the ground rules as I had for the O'Byrnes. Packy was edgy on a point or two, but the prospect of a good cash flow won out.

I set the time of the meeting for the following day to give me time to get a few details in line—details that I chose not to share with my prospective meeting mates. The place of the meeting was to be a small private meeting room in the Hilton Hotel on Dalton Street in the Back Bay. I wanted privacy in a public place, but not my dear old Parker House. When I put nitro and glycerin together, there could be an explosion to which I would not subject that grande dame of hotels.

Seamus and I showed up first. We arranged the table to accommodate Packy on one end, Frank and Kevin on the other, and me in the middle. Seamus would stand at the door to prevent unexpected intruders. We could trust either one of the attendees as far as we could throw the hotel.

Packy was the first to arrive. He had two Italian bodyguards with him as provided for in my house rules. Kevin and Frank were hard on their heels, followed closely by their two Irish bodyguards.

The glaring and staring of daggers that went on could have ignited an inferno. This was the touchy part. If we got as far as having
everyone seated, I figured it would be a victory no matter what happened next.

That being the priority, I did all the talking. One hot word by anyone else in the room could have touched off heaven knows what. According to the rules, Seamus ran a search of each of the four bodyguards in turn for weapons. He indicated that they passed.

I had suggested, and it was mutually agreed, that as a token of trust the principal parties would not be searched. That was pure posturing on my part to pretend that a microgram of trust existed in that room. In fact, I would have bet my Bruins tickets that the O'Byrnes and Packy were all armed to the teeth. I also could not have cared less. I was betting that no bullets would fly before the business portion of the meeting was concluded. At that point, Seamus and I would be out of there, possibly leaving skid marks.

At last, all the players were in position. I proposed that on my signal, the O'Byrnes place their suitcase of cash on the table in front of them and Packy place the bag of diamonds, which I had slipped to him when he came in, on the table in front of him. Nods from both sides.

“Good. On three. One. Two. Three.”

So far so good. Each performed like a trained pony.

“And now, gentlemen. We make the switch. On three.”

“Hold it right there!”

That came from Frank, and it was just what I was counting on him to say.

“Is there a problem, Mr. O'Byrne?”

“Yeah. I'd say there's a problem. With all the shuckin' and jivin' that's been goin' on, how do we know they're real? Could be another one of your little glass tricks.”

I couldn't have written the script for him better.

“Then let's test it. Mr. Salviti, the diamonds, please.”

Packy passed the leather bag to me. I carefully poured the diamonds out of the bag onto the table in front of me and spread them out.

“Mr. O'Byrne, point to any one of the diamonds.”

He squinted at me with a piercingly suspicious look.

“No trick. Any one you want.”

He pointed to one of the diamonds. I made a graceful gesture that would have done Harry Wong proud in picking up the indicated diamond. I held it between open fingers to show I was not pulling a switch. I walked directly to a magnificent mirror over a false fireplace on the wall behind me. With a bit of a flare that I couldn't help enjoying, I carved my initials smoothly and fluidly with a sharp edge of the diamond deeply into the thick glass of the mirror. I figured I could pay for the mirror later.

I turned back to the table. “Gentlemen, is there anything further to say?”

There was a silence that I took to mean that the stone had passed the test. I walked back to my seat at the table. I caught Frank's eye and with a gesture invited him to watch carefully as I replaced the diamonds carefully one by one in the leather bag. That completed I sat down. Now going for the gold.

“Gentlemen, I have just two requests to make before we complete the deal. We're alone in this room. Every one of us is party to this and everything that's led up to this moment. That means that if one of us goes to prison, we could all go to prison for any part of it, including murder.”