Chapter 6

 

New York, March 1984

 

The sun rolled in and forced away the darkness; it peeked between the drapes but still he lay there. Thomas Devlin’s mind continued to work frantically as it had most of the night. Over and over he replayed the scene in the DA’s office. In his years of knowing Andrea, how could he have missed so many important details? Those damn books for one thing. If only he’d found them, they’d be ashes now. She had given birth and he never noticed? Shit! Women didn’t wear signs. If this was John Connors’ kid—

He rolled over and made a grab for the hand reaching for the phone.

“Sorry.” She pulled back her hand. “Force of habit.”

“Well break the habit!” Devlin said while the insistent noise continued. Swinging to the edge of the bed he sat and rubbed at his forehead.

“Answer the damn thing!” Springing from her side of the bed, Shelia Connors Beechen grabbed a robe and did a swift exit. She slammed the door and Devlin felt his bedroom walls shudder. What had once been fun and exciting, their relationship had deteriorated into a nerve-wracking situation for him.

Devlin lifted the receiver. “Yes!”

“Tom?”

“Who else.”

“Tom, I need help.”

Recognizing the voice, the sharpness left Devlin’s tone. “John, what’s the problem?”

“What isn’t?” John Connors sounded disgusted. “The guy was a lousy shot so Reagan’s still in the Whitehouse. Then there’s my family—so what’s new. My dad’s raising a ruckus. No one has heard from my sister in three days. That bastard she’s married to has decided to pack it in again. He’s on his way here now. Oh, by the way, the reason I called. I need you to set up a blind trust. Something really hidden so all the digging in the world won’t tie it to the family. How soon can we get together?”

“I could be at your office—”

“Say, in about an hour. Dad wants some other things cleared up. You wouldn’t know where Shelia is?”

“Me?”

“Just asking. We’ll expect you before noon. I’ll plan on ordering in lunch—it could be a long afternoon.”

Devlin hung up the phone. Why in hell had John asked him about Shelia’s whereabouts? He shrugged off an uneasy feeling as he looked up at the woman in question. She hadn’t even washed her face or combed her hair. Not that anything short of major surgery could return this broad to some semblance of the beauty he’d first encountered in what now seemed eons ago.

Shelia was holding two fresh drinks.

“God that was close,” Devlin said as he indicated the phone. “Your brother. When will you learn never to touch my phone?” He was starting to dress.

“You’re going out? Johnny whistles and you run like an obedient puppy dog. I don’t believe you.” Shelia wore a little girl pout. “What will I do with myself?” She started sipping her drink and set the other on the nightstand.

“Hey, Shell, hot things are happening.” He laughed softly. “You better get your butt back home or else. Your dad may already have the FBI out.”

Shelia finished off her drink and picked up the one Devlin ignored. “You should ease up on the booze.” He warned. “Darn it, Shelia, it’s not ten o’clock and you’re half lit.” He had his trousers on and was working his feet into a pair of short boots. When he glanced up, she tossed the drink at him.

“Christ!” He leaped sideways to avoid the liquid and nearly landed on the floor. He cursed as he righted himself. “Just what I need, ninety proof cologne.”

“Whatever. You wear it on the outside; I’ll wear it on the inside. Maybe I’ll tag along with you. Fat chance.” Shelia snickered. “Daddy found out about us, he’d have me locked away in a nut house. He’s threatened to do that you know.” She headed for the adjoining room that held more whiskey.

Devlin groaned. This bitch is going to finish me. “Shell,” he called after her. More like an order than a suggestion. “Stay here until you sober up.” The last thing the Connors’ needed was her getting picked up for another DWI. “Think about going to the shore this weekend. I’ll try to make it out tonight. We’ll have all Saturday and part of Sunday.”

“Can’t.” Shelia called back. “I promised James I’d play hostess for his family this weekend. Oh Christ, it’s Thursday already. I think his mother is supposed to arrive this morning.”

“It’s Friday, Shelia. Where in hell were you before you got here last night?”

She’d returned to stand in the doorway. His robe hung loosely on a tall frame that had started to go skinny from lack of food; it gaped at the top exposing her breasts. An angry red bruise ran between them like the wound from a dull blade. “Sometimes when I think about Andrea…” She hesitated, and then seemed to lose her train of thought. “I wish James would divorce me. It’s such a hassle playing the proper little wife.”

He knew she’d probably marked herself. He’d stopped her from doing it enough times, so he didn’t question where the bruise came from. He didn’t even bother to tell her if she went home, she would find her husband gone again. He didn’t want to deal with another hysterical scene. The previous night was still too fresh. In a drunken rage she’d banged on his door at 1:00am. Screaming because she thought he had someone else there and locked her out. It had taken hours to settle her down. He tried to make love to her, but was grateful when she passed out, and he wasn’t required to continue. “You need some sleep.”

“I need to get my butt home, before James has a fit. Besides, knowing my brother, you’ll be wiping Johnny’s nose until his new crisis is resolved. What did he want anyway?”

“No biggie, I’ll tell you about it when I get back. Promise you’ll stay here.”

“Hmmm…Might, lover. Then again…”

~~~

 

A while later as he entered the reception area of the Manhattan suite of offices, Thomas Devlin simply asked for conversation, “He’s in?”

“Oh yes. He’s expecting you.” The lady at reception smiled at the man who needed no introduction to her.

“He’s still alone I hope?”

“Sorry, William got here a few minutes ago. Mr. Connors Senior hasn’t arrived yet. But I think John called him after he had talked to you.”

Well at least the old man’s not here, Devlin thought. He might grab a few minutes to talk with John alone. He passed a victory sign to the woman and moved quickly down the carpeted hallway to the private offices in the rear. Now and then he paused to acknowledge a wave or signal from people he knew in those few offices with open doors along the way.

As he stepped into the elaborate set up that was one of John Connors’ homes away from home, he flashed the V for victory sign at John’s younger brother, William, who was spread out on the leather couch.

“You’ve been a busy boy,” John Connors said from behind the large desk. “I expected you yesterday. I had to call you this morning. What have you been up too?”

“A little problem named Mark Storm,” Devlin answered.

“I see he didn’t lock you up.” William Connors’ tone gave the impression that such an occurrence wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest.

Devlin returned William’s insulting smile with one of his own before he moved up to perch on the edge of John’s desk. He knew this irritated John, but he did it anyway because he knew he could. “You really shouldn’t withhold information from me John,” he said allowing a frown to settle on his face.

“Information? Good heavens Tom, you know more about me than my mother does.” Connors waved towards his brother, “Get us a scotch.”

“Just coffee for me.” Devlin corrected.

“I’ll buzz—”

“Just go get it, Will. I need to talk to John alone.”

“Why?”

“Oh go ahead Will. I’ll fill you in later.” John promised. “If Tom wants to play little boy secrets we’ll let him.” Before the door slid closed, John nearly came out of his chair when he leaned close to Devlin with the demand, “Now what’s this nonsense about?”

“Andrea’s kid for one thing. I want the truth. Is he yours?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Was apparently a lie by Connors because he immediately came back with, “All right!” He stood up and circled the desk pounding one fist into the palm of the other. “Andrea has been sucking my blood for years.” He stopped at the bar and poured a neat scotch, consumed it in one gulp before he poured another. “Her kid doesn’t make a difference; the knowledge of our affair alone would destroy me.”

“You got that right. When did you find out about the kid?”

“Only a few years ago. My father has always done the paying; maybe his guilty conscience about his own youth kept him from burdening me. You know I was pleased when you and Andrea became a couple. Even Raymond would have taken your marriage kindly.”

“Wishful thinking on the Connors’ part,” Devlin said. “Sorry I disappointed you. Figured the last thing this lad needed was any wife.” Devlin had risen now and he claimed the bottle from John’s hands and poured himself a drink.

“John.” He stared firmly at the other man. “You and Andrea had called it quits when I met you. Why in God’s name did you rekindle that relationship?”

“I didn’t!” Connors nearly gagged on the scotch he’d just put in his mouth as he protested. “What the hell do you think I am, stupid? Believe me, I’ve done the arithmetic, her child couldn’t be mine. But we couldn’t chance her spreading that rumor.”

“John…” Devlin paused for William had come in with the coffee. “Took you so long, I decided to switch to booze.”

“The girls were brewing a fresh pot.” William set the tray on the desk and eyed his brother. “What’s this? You look like someone ready to be executed. What’s Devlin stirring up now?”

“Can it Will, Tom’s just looking out for my interests as usual. He’s not to fault for my mistakes.”

“Does he know?” Devlin asked as his head tilted towards William.

John shook a quick no as William demanded, “Know what? Don’t play games with me! Can this hurt the election! I’ve worked damn hard—”

“Ease off,” John ordered. “Tom will take care of the problem. Won’t you Tom?”

“How many knew about you and Andrea?” Devlin asked for he wasn’t really certain he could.

“This is about Andrea again?” William said in disgust. “What now? I thought you moved in when John moved out, Tom?” This was followed by a short laugh. “So why should we be concerned except of course if our buddy here,” he popped Devlin on the shoulder, “should get arrested for her murder?”

The light on the intercom flashed.

“Dad’s in his office,” John said. “With Shelia again off to places unknown, her husband ready to escape, he’s pissed off like you wouldn’t believe so no sense in keeping him waiting.”