Paranoia (Michael Bennett #17)

CHAPTER 114

I HAD A good position behind the column. I was tucked away but could still see Celeste Cantor and Kevin Doyle at their booth. I had an earpiece to listen in. Any time someone’s conversation is being monitored and recorded, I get anxious, waiting to hear if the suspect will incriminate themselves. It was no different tonight. Even with the distracting band a few feet from me, I could hear the conversation clearly over my earpiece.

I listened to them chat for a minute, catching up about family and their childhood memories. It was like any normal conversation between two adult cousins. Then Doyle switched the conversation to business. He said, “I’m done with the job you gave me. All the retirees as well as the drug runners.”

Cantor didn’t answer immediately. Finally, she said, “What happened with Bennett?”

“We never really got a chance with him.”

“I haven’t heard from Joe. He’s not answering his phone. How was it working with him?”

Doyle shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since we bailed on catching Bennett at his office. But I gotta tell ya, you shouldn’t associate with those kinds of guys. He’s a disgrace.”

“Because of what he does for a living?”

“Because of what comes out of his mouth.”

That seemed to satisfy her. The waiter came over, but Cantor dismissed him quickly, telling him to bring two waters and two glasses of house red.

Out of the blue, Doyle mumbled, “I didn’t like killing cops.”

Cantor reached across and patted his arm. “I know. I didn’t like it either. But we have to look toward the greater good. Think what I can accomplish on the City Council. Think where that might lead. We both grew up here. It’s not the same city that we knew. I can change that.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“No, no, it doesn’t. But it was necessary. I’m sorry you had to be involved, but you’re the only one I could trust.” She looked at Doyle for a moment, then said, “Is there any chance Bennett knows anything?”

Doyle shrugged. “How would I know?”

“When, exactly, did you plan on leaving the city?”

“Like I said, tomorrow morning.”

Cantor didn’t say anything for a moment. She was thinking. Then she said, “I know Bennett. He won’t give up. I think you need to wait a few days before you leave. Maybe try again.”

“You want me to try again to kill Detective Bennett? That’s going to take more planning and time. And my costs go up too.”

I glanced through the restaurant, sensing that things might be coming to a head. I was particularly satisfied that Doyle had used the word “kill” instead of some euphemism. It would help when the case went to court.

Cantor feigned a frown like she was actually sad. She reached across the table to tenderly touch Doyle’s shoulder. Then she pinched his cheek. It looked like a doting aunt harassing a young nephew.

I was trying not to be obvious as I leaned forward slightly to look past the pillar in front of me. Thankfully, the band took a break. There was no one to really see me tucked away in the corner, so I shifted my seat to where I could have a better angle on Doyle and Cantor’s booth. There were maybe thirty people in the place. I wondered how we could do this without anyone noticing.

When I looked past Cantor, I noticed the wide window facing the street. And leaning on a car just outside was Dennis Wu. I didn’t know if he thought he was invisible or just assumed no one would bother to look out the giant window. Like a guy in a suit just waiting around doesn’t stand out. Wu might as well have been looking in the window with his hands cupped at the sides of his head.

I reached for my phone to tell him to back away. Then I looked up and saw it was too late.