Chapter Twenty-Six
‘Who’s talkin?’
‘Rico! It’s Zand Steinherr here …’
‘Hey, Mister Steinherr, how you doin’?’
Rico was an Italian American from Hell’s Kitchen who was the most reliable man in town when it came to getting the dirt on a dodgy politician, finding out who was schtupping who they shouldn’t be, or getting secret paperwork pertaining to unlawful developments at City Hall.
Rico had found unscrupulous ways to help Lysander Steinherr win big cases over the years, and Lysander always managed to find legitimate ways to use that information.
Lysander didn’t beat around the bush.
‘I’m calling from Geneva airport with a sensitive favour …’
‘All favours are sensitive with me,’ Rico reassured him.
‘Great – well can you do a deep dive into Kiki Bouffon Steinherr? She’s, er …’ Lysander looked around at the people sitting at the departures gate.
‘I know who she is,’ Rico said steadfastly.
‘There has to be something from her past. Her employment history is documented, no gaps, but I’m particularly interested in what she did before she was twenty-one.
’ Lysander had already looked into Kiki’s employment when his father married her, and her stories about Monte Carlo, Vegas and Atlantic City had all tallied. ‘I know you’ll do great.’
‘I’m already looking into it, boss.’
‘Great. Usual rate, usual fee. But if you can find something watertight that gets my dad out of alimony, then I’ll double it.’
‘Thank you sir, I’ll get on the case.’
‘Thanks Rico.’
‘No problem, have a great flight.’
Lysander ended the call, turned his phone onto airplane mode and walked up to the gate, Swiss and American passports in hand.
He knew that by the time he was back at his desk in Midtown Manhattan there would be a manila envelope furnished with salaciousness.
No woman could have fought off that many hard-ballers without having an interesting story along the way.