Swimming with Sharks (35 page)

“I think so. If you’re okay with that.”

“For heaven’s sake, yes!” Alex was worried about spending time with Oliver, but she still looked forward to seeing him again.

“I’ll stay in touch. Have fun tonight.”

Alex drove with Trevor and Madeleine to the mayor’s reception. Security guards checked their invitations and then let them pass through the gate. The colonial-style mansion was in a magnificent park at the East River, nestled between tall, old trees. Since Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia chose this house as his residence in 1942, it had become a tradition for every successor to live here. Alex felt her heart pounding when she entered the house. She wasn’t quite sure whether or not she liked Nick Kostidis, and she also didn’t know whether it was a good idea to accept his invitation. In the foyer, Kostidis rushed toward them with open arms and a hearty smile.

“My wife and I are extremely happy that you’re our guest tonight, Alex,” he said with sincere cordiality.

“It’s an honor and pleasure for me,” she replied politely.

Through the wide-open glass doors, they stepped out onto a large terrace that offered a magnificent view of the East River. Alex met Christopher—Nick and Mary Kostidis’s son—and his fiancée Britney Edwards. Then Kostidis introduced other guests such as Canadian ambassador Jacques Toussaint and his wife Véronique; Patrick Grimford, the legendary publisher of the
New York Times;
Hollywood actor Michael Campione, who lived in Tribeca; fashion czar Kevin Lang; and Francis Dulong, who was a senior partner of the prestigious law firm Dulong & Kirschbaum.

Alex enjoyed lively conversation. It was wonderful to talk with interesting people and forget about her worries for a while. There were champagne cocktails and Japanese hors d’oeuvres offered to the guests by a liveried waiter. After the sticky July day, the mild evening air added to Alex’s good mood.

Mary Kostidis was an unobtrusive and courteous host. Alex liked her right away. They talked for a long time, and Alex sensed the trust and deep connection between her and Nick that can only result from true love, similar to that shared by the Downeys. She shivered, imagining what it would be like to actually marry Sergio Vitali. At the very least, she would stop receiving invitations to Gracie Mansion. During dinner—which was served in one of the splendid salons, with wide-open terrace doors—Alex sat between Kevin Lang and Michael Campione.

Around eleven, the Canadian ambassador and his wife said their good-byes, which lightened the atmosphere, making it less formal and more sociable. All of the people present seemed to know each other fairly well, and the party moved to a different salon with comfortable sofas and armchairs. Alex was talking to Trevor, Madeleine, Michael Campione, Francis Dulong, and his wife when Nick Kostidis joined them.

“The only possible reason for me to consider running for mayor of New York would be this house,” Trevor said jokingly.

“Really?” Nick replied. “Actually, to be honest with you, it was an important reason for me. And hey, you don’t have to mow your own lawn.”

Everyone laughed. Alex found the mayor was downright likable when he was relaxed like this.

“I hope you’re having a good time.”

“I really am. It’s a highly enjoyable evening.” She smiled.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, I’d love another.”

Nick waved a waiter over to fill Alex’s glass with champagne.

“Let’s go outside for a moment to get some fresh air,” Nick suggested, and Alex agreed. They stepped out onto the terrace. It was a mild, warm night. It almost felt like being in the countryside. The city’s lights sparkled on the river’s ink-black water, and there was a scent of lilac and sweet fading flowers in the air.

“Wonderful.” Alex stepped toward the railing of the terrace, taking a deep breath. “It’s hard to believe that we’re in the middle of New York City.”

“Do you sometimes miss your homeland?” Nick Kostidis asked as he stood behind her. She turned around. He had one hand in his pocket and held his glass with the other, observing her with friendly interest.

“Sometimes I miss certain places where I spent my childhood.” She smiled. “Have you ever been to Germany?”

“Unfortunately not,” Nick replied with regret. “Actually, I’ve never even been to Europe.”

“I spent almost all of my holidays with relatives in France or Ticino,” Alex told him. “My family is large. We have uncles, aunts, and cousins everywhere. I especially liked to go to the mountains in the winter. They’re…one of a kind. Just before the first snow falls, the air is as clear as glass. And when you get up in the morning, the entire countryside is white. And the icy winds really push the snow around on the ground. You don’t really feel the seasons in the city.”

She looked pensively into the park’s darkness.

“I miss the smell of fall—the scent of the moist earth and decaying leaves and the fire. Sometimes in Germany the sky is high and wide, and then it’s all foggy again. In the spring, I clearly remember the feeling I had the first time I could go horseback riding outside and gallop across the meadows after a dark winter. I was so happy.”

Caught in her memories, she paused for a moment without noticing the enraptured way Nick Kostidis looked at her.

“In nature,” Alex continued, “I feel small and unimportant. It puts everything in the right perspective.”

The smile vanished from Nick’s face.

“We take ourselves so seriously,” Alex went on, “our lives, our problems, and everyday worries. Only in the face of nature do we realize how insignificant we really are.”

“Is that what we are? Insignificant?”

Alex looked at him. His question was sincere.

“In comparison to nature—yes. Just think about how many millions of years it took for our earth to form. What’s a human life in comparison to that? And who really cares what you do or what you strive for when you’re gone all of a sudden?”

“Those are frightening thoughts.”

“I don’t know. I think that the steady course of nature is very comforting.”

“You’re a real philosopher,” Nick said. Alex tried to detect if she heard a hint of mockery in his voice, but he was sincere.

“No.” She laughed self-consciously. “I just got a bit carried away.”

She was surprised at how openly she could talk to Nick Kostidis.

“In any case, you’ve sparked my interest about Europe,” Nick said. They looked at each other in silence, and then Alex turned away. She didn’t want this conversation to get too personal.

“I couldn’t believe that I was seated next to Michael Campione, of all people. I had a huge crush on him when I was younger,” she said, smiling.

“Really?” Nick also seemed happy to talk about a harmless subject again. “Mike’s an old friend of mine. We grew up in the same neighborhood and had similarly ambitious dreams.”

“Did you realize your dreams?” Alex asked.

“I’ve reached many of my goals,” Nick said, looking at her seriously, “but it’s a strange thing…”

“You don’t dream about the dark side,” she said, and he nodded.

They stood together in silence.

“Which one of Mike’s films is your favorite?”

Alex looked at him for a moment, and then she laughed in embarrassment.

“If I tell you, then you’ll probably think,
Of course, what else
.”

“Why?”

The intensity of his dark eyes made her nervous, but she had to admit deep inside that she had misjudged Nick Kostidis. He seemed so likable and authentic now.

“It’s
Murder, Inc.
”

Voices and laughter could be heard from the house.

“Why should I think that?” Nick asked quietly.

“Well, that could explain my fascination with a man like Vitali, don’t you think?”

Nick shook his head slightly.

“I don’t think that you’re fascinated by him anymore.”

Alex stopped breathing. How could he know that?

“You got angry when I asked you about him on Christmas Day,” Nick said. “But I think you were insecure, and you got mad at me because I saw that.”

Alex laughed insecurely now.

“Did you study psychology?”

“Something like that.” He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “I was a US attorney, and I think that I’ve developed a fairly good understanding of human behavior. I—”

Mary Kostidis stepped onto the terrace escorted by a young man. Alex recognized him as the one she’d seen with Nick that evening at the Plaza. But she also knew that she’d seen him somewhere else, and that she had a bad feeling about him.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Mary said. “Nick, Ray wants to talk to you for a second.”

“Yes, of course.” He turned toward Alex. “Would you excuse me please, Alex?”

She nodded, looking after him with a mixture of fascination and uncertainty as he disappeared into the house.

“Come in, Alex,” Mary said in a friendly tone, “we still have a little dessert.”

“What’s so important?” Nick asked his assistant after he’d closed the door to his office.

“Another letter was dropped off for you,” Raymond Howard replied, handing him the envelope with just his name written on it.

Nick ripped the envelope open.
You didn’t shut up. You will die.

“Bullshit!” He crumpled the paper indignantly. “Where did you get this?”

“It was dropped off with one of the security guards,” Howard said. Nick shrugged his shoulders and sat down at his desk. He ran all ten fingers through his thick, dark hair and stared out the window into the nighttime blackness of the park.

“By the way, the US Attorney’s Office has ordered a judicial investigation in the case of Cesare Vitali.”

“Why would they do that?” Nick looked at his assistant in consternation. “I thought the autopsy confirmed that it was suicide.”

“Vitali claims that his son was killed.”

“That’s utter nonsense! The kid was all coked up and lost his marbles!”

“Well,” Howard said as he strolled through the room, “de Lancie wants to summon you for the investigation.”

“Excuse me?” Nick sensed cold rage rising inside of him. “What’s this all about? What do I have to do with it?”

“You stepped on de Lancie’s toes,” Howard explained. “You compromised him when you stepped in front of the television cameras that morning. And de Lancie is very sensitive.”

“Call him. Now.”

“It’s after midnight.”

“I don’t care,” Nick said abruptly. “I want to speak to him now.”

Howard glanced at his boss and then grabbed the telephone receiver and dialed a number. It took a few seconds, which Nick spent pacing angrily across his office.

“John!” Nick yelled into the telephone, enraged. “I just heard that you’re ordering a judicial investigation.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” John de Lancie replied, not even mentioning the unusual time of this call. “There are a few inconsistencies that require clarification.”

“What kind of inconsistencies? This kid raided an apartment building with some criminals known to the police under orders from his father. Two people were killed in the process. Vitali Junior was unstable, high on drugs, and then he committed suicide in a sudden panic!”

“He was pressured and physically abused,” de Lancie countered. “The NYPD is currently investigating all officers of the Forty-First Precinct who were on duty that night.”

“For what reason?”

“Cesare Vitale’s body had signs of physical abuse all over it. He was beaten before he died.”

“Well,” Nick said. “And why am I being summoned? Do you think I did it?”

“I’m not obliged to inform you of the details,” de Lancie answered, “but I’ll tell you anyway. You were surprisingly fast showing up at the police station. You talked to officers, made a statement in front of the cameras, and put me in an uncomfortable position.”

“You’re summoning me because you’re upset that I did your job?”

“You interfered with an ongoing police investigation,” the US attorney replied coldly. “You shouldn’t be surprised that now you’re tangled up in this case.”

“That’s ridiculous. And you damn well know it!”

“The only thing I know is that the kid was abused in order to extract a confession. There’s also a well-founded suspicion that it occurred at your instigation.”