“His aunt’s place,” Shrader put in.
“Angelini’s,” McCord confirmed with a nod. “She also spent the night with him last night.” Leaning back in his chair, he picked up a pencil, and flipped back through the pages of his tablet. “I can’t believe we haven’t been able to connect Valente and Leigh Manning prior to that opening night party.”
He read from his notes, ticking off each item as he covered it with them: “We’ve checked all of Valente’s phone records and the Mannings’ phone records as well. The only calls made to Valente were a few from Logan Manning’s office placed during the month before he died. The only call made to Valente from the Manning residence was on the day before he disappeared, when Mrs. Manning was at the theater getting ready for opening night.”
He glanced up briefly to see if anyone had anything to add. “We’ve checked with the doormen at both their residences, and we’ve checked with waiters at every restaurant and bar where Valente’s used a credit card in the last year. Nobody has ever seen them together, except at that party on the night before Manning disappeared. Now, of course, they’re inseparable and they phone each other regularly.”
Tossing his pencil on his desk, he leaned back in his chair. “We know from Valente’s note to her that they were pretending they didn’t know each other that night, but how in the hell have they been keeping in touch? How can two people carry on an affair, let alone plan a murder, without leaving a trace of their association? When did they first get together, how long has this been going on?”
Sam suddenly stiffened. “What street did you say Angelini’s is on?”
“Great Jones Street. You were the one who knew all about that restaurant,” he reminded her, frowning in puzzlement at her question and her sudden, avid interest.
“Yes, but I’ve never been there. What’s the address on Great Jones Street?”
“The street is only a few blocks long. What difference does it make?”
Sam burst out laughing and stood up. “They’ve known each other forever!” Without another word, she turned and headed for her desk, where she’d left Leigh Manning’s file.
Chapter 54
* * *
Several minutes later, Sam triumphantly placed Leigh Manning’s open file in front of McCord and pointed to an old New York City address. For Shrader and Womack’s benefit, she said aloud, “Leigh Manning moved to Great Jones Street while she was still attending NYU.”
McCord glanced at the address in the file as he reached into his desk drawer and yanked out a phone book.
“I already checked,” Sam said, returning to her chair. “There’s an Angelini’s Restaurant and an Angelini’s Market listed, and I called there a moment ago. The market has been at that same address for forty-five years, and it’s just down the block from Leigh Manning’s old address. I also checked the early employment records in Valente’s file—he worked there on and off during the same period Leigh Manning lived down the street.”
Shrader sent Sam an approving, paternal nod for her discovery; then he turned businesslike. “Exactly how long ago did she live near the market?”
When Sam told him, he tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes narrowed in thought. “So by the time she met Valente, he’d already done time for manslaughter . . .” In the pause that followed, no one attempted to confirm his statement, because they were all so familiar with Valente’s life history by then that any one of them could have written his biography.
“Let’s consider a different scenario for Valente and Leigh Manning and see if this one plays,” Shrader said. “Valente meets Leigh Kendall when she lives down the street from the market where he works, and they have a fling. Naturally, he tells her the story of his life, and since Valente’s a tough bastard and proud of it, he includes his stint in prison for manslaughter. After the fling is over, she goes her way and marries Manning, and Valente goes his way. Valente and Leigh Manning don’t see each other after that. I mean, they never really had anything in common in the first place, right?”
“Right,” Womack said. “Go on, I’m with you.”
“Fourteen years go by,” Shrader continued; “then one day, Leigh Manning finds out her husband is cheating on her, or laundering illegal money—or whatever—and she decides she wants to get rid of him, permanently. Now, who would she call to advise her about doing something like that? Who does she know who has firsthand experience with murder?”
“She’d call her old friend from Great Jones Street,” Womack agreed aloud.
“Exactly. She calls him from a pay phone, and he picks her up in his car, and they talk there. They meet the same way another time or two to make their plans, but that’s all they do. That would explain why we can’t dig up any evidence they were having an affair—because they weren’t having one.”
He paused, his brow furrowing again. “When I think about it, it’s just as likely that she didn’t call Valente out of the blue with her problem. Manning’s secretary said Manning had been making some business overtures to Valente in the weeks before he died. Maybe Manning brought up Valente to his wife, and that’s when she realized how helpful her old pal could be in disposing of her husband. Doesn’t matter,” he said, giving his big head a shake. “Anyway, on the night before they plan to off old Logan, he suddenly decides he could make some points with his potential business investor by inviting him to Leigh’s fancy party. Mrs. Manning’s secretary—Brenna something—specifically told me Manning added Valente to the guest list himself, at the last minute.”
Womack looked impressed. “So Valente goes to the party, but for obvious reasons, he and Mrs. Manning carefully pretend not to know each other.” He looked at Sam, who was frowning in thought. “You got problems with this theory?”
“I was thinking about the pears he sent her in the hospital,” Sam replied. “I’ve always assumed he knew she liked pears for breakfast because they’d had a lot of cozy breakfasts together, but it’s perfectly possible that Valente simply remembered her shopping habits at his aunt’s market, and in a nostalgic moment, he sent her the pears in the hospital.”
Satisfied, Shrader turned to McCord. “How does this sound to you, Lieutenant?”
The phone on McCord’s desk had started ringing before Shrader finished the question. McCord answered it, listened for a moment, and then said curtly. “Put them in an interview room and tell them to wait there.”
When he hung up, he said, “Valente and Buchanan are here”; then he unhurriedly considered Shrader’s question. “I have one major problem with your theory, and it’s this: The Feds call Valente the Ic
e Man because he’s the most calculating, cold-blooded son of a bitch they’ve ever encountered. Based on what I’ve heard, he wouldn’t help out an old girlfriend—or anyone else—unless there’s something in it for him. In order for him to agree to pop Logan Manning, and risk getting a lethal injection for his trouble, Leigh Manning had to have something to offer him that he wanted very badly.”
Womack immediately came up with a viable possibility: “Maybe she offered him her husband’s dirty money. She doesn’t strike me as the type to try to launder it herself.”
“That’s an inducement that would appeal to Valente, as long as there’s a truckload of money involved,” McCord agreed. “Evidently Mrs. Manning also sweetened the deal by offering him herself, because there is definitely something sexual going on between them now.”
In the silence that followed, Sam reluctantly shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t buy any of this.”
“What do you mean you can’t buy any of it?” McCord said sharply, frowning at her. “It explains things that have bothered me for weeks about their relationship. It makes perfect sense.”
“But only up to a point. It explains why and how two guilty conspirators kept their acquaintance a complete secret while they planned to murder Manning. But what it doesn’t explain is why they abandoned all caution, even before his body was discovered. Why would Valente be stupid enough to fly her in his helicopter to a place he knew would be crawling with cops? Why are they flaunting their relationship now, when they need to look innocent?”