Tick Tock (Michael Bennett 4)
Chapter 40
IT WAS TWO IN THE AFTERNOON when Berger got out of a taxi in Brooklyn’s Grand Army Plaza. Dapper as can be in a chalk-pinstripe Alexander McQueen power suit, he carried a brown paper bag in his right hand, and in his left his lucky cane. The razor-sharp saber inside it had a grinning pewter skull for a handle that he kept hidden under his palm as he strolled.
He arrived at Sixth Avenue and made a right. A block up the leafy, brownstone-lined street, he paused by the steps of a church. He made the sign of the cross as he glanced at himself in the window of a parked Prius. He unbuttoned his jacket to show off his Hermès tie and handmade single-stitched Turnbull & Asser shirt. Now was not the time for Christian modesty.
He counted the addresses until he came to 485. He stepped up the stoop and rang the doorbell with the cane.
The forty-something redheaded man who opened the door was wearing a Fordham T-shirt and shiny black basketball shorts, both speckled with primer.
“Mr. Howard?” the man said, patting at his carrot-colored hair as he opened the door. “What brings you here?”
“I was in the neighborhood, Kenneth,” Berger said, smiling. “I remembered you lived around here and thought I’d give you a buzz.”
The man’s name was Kenneth Cavuto. He’d been a real-estate financial analyst working for Lehman Brothers until the investment bank went belly-up in the financial meltdown. Berger had interviewed the man two weeks ago after contacting him from the Classifieds section of Craigs-list. On the Monday following, at $200,000 to start plus bonuses, Kenneth was supposed to begin running the capital market team of Berger’s fictitious new investment start-up, Red Lion Investments.
“Here, I brought you a gift,” Berger said, handing him the paper sack. “My mother always said when you go for a visit, ring the bell with your elbow.”
“Hey, wow, thanks. You didn’t have to do that,” Cavuto said as he accepted the bag. “What is it?”
“Fresh strawberries and pot cheese,” Berger said.
“What kind of cheese?” Cavuto said, looking into the bag.
“Pot. Though it’s not the kind you’re thinking of, you rascal. It’s the latest thing at Whole Foods.”
“Is that right?” Cavuto said with a shrug. “Please come in. Let me wash up, and I’ll put on some coffee.”
“Don’t bother yourself,” Berger said with a wave. “I just wanted to make sure we were buttoned down on your position. No one else has come in with a higher bid, I hope. You’ll be there on Monday?”
“Of course, Mr. Howard. Nine a.m. sharp,” the redhead assured him with a pathetic earnestness.
Berger smiled immediately as a three- or four-year-old blond girl appeared in the hall behind Cavuto.
“Hey, who’s that?” Berger called to her. “Angela? Am I right?”
“That’s right. You remembered,” Cavuto said with happy surprise. “Angela, come here, baby.”
Berger got down on one knee as she arrived next to her father. He looked at the funny-looking doll she was holding. It was Boots the Monkey from Dora the Explorer.
“Knock, knock,” Berger said to her.
“Who’s there?” Angela said, peering suspiciously at him.
“Nunya.”
“Nunya who?” Angela said, smiling a little.
“Nunya business,” Berger said, standing.
The little girl laughed. He always had a way with kids.
“Won’t you come in?” Kenneth offered again.
“No, no. I’m off,” Berger said. “I have to head over to the zoo in the park now, where my ex is waiting to get my little angel Bethany’s fourth-birthday party started and—”
Berger snapped his finger.
“Where are my manners? Why don’t you come? A couple of vice presidents from the firm will be there as well. It’ll give you a chance to get acquainted before Monday.”