I phoned Biel the next morning, just to let him know what was happening. Even though it was Sunday, he was in his office. He felt since there was Sunday racing in New York, there was no reason for him to be off.
“What’s your reaction to Benjamin?” he asked.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask,” I answered.
“That bad?”
“I can’t say that I like him, Howard,” I admitted. “In fact, given time, I could probably very easily dislike him.”
“It’s unfortunate that Benjamin has that effect on people,” Biel said, but he made no attempt to explain why this was the case.
“I met Lassiter,” I told him. “Can’t say that I like him either.”
“Did you meet anyone yesterday that you did like?” he asked. He was kidding, but the way he asked made me wonder if he didn’t know that I had met Brandy Sommers.
I thought about Brandy, and even Debby Gannero, but chose not to comment on either one.
“What’s your feeling about Penny, Hank?” Biel asked.
“My feeling is that she’s missing,” I told him, “and if I keep talking on the phone I’ll never find her. I’ll keep in touch.”
“Hank, I would, uh, appreciate you giving this your very best effort. Penny is very, uh, special to me.”
“How special?” I asked.
“She’s my goddaughter, Hank.”
“Okay, Howard,” I said. He wasn’t the type of man who was used to showing his emotions, so I didn’t dwell on the matter. “I’ll do my best, as always.”
“I know you will. Thank you.”
“Wait a second,” I called before he hung up.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing: I just wondered if anyone was back yet?”
“Shukey got back last evening,” he told me.
“Good. Maybe I’ll give her a call. I might be able to use her. Good-bye, Howard.”
Shukey Long had originally been an investigative reporter for one of the country’s leading racing publications, until she was offered a position as one of Howard Biel’s special investigators — on my recommendations.
In fact, I met Howard Biel and Shukey Long at the same time. Not at exactly the same moment, but during the job I had done for Biel I had crossed paths — and, to a certain degree, swords — with Shukey. She had made a favorable impression on me, not only as a lovely woman, but as a capable one. As a result of that I made my recommendation to Biel, he made his offer to Shukey, and she accepted.
I dialed her number and she picked up on the first ring.
“Sitting on the phone waiting for me to call, huh?” I asked.
“Henry?” She likes my first name and refuses to call me “Hank.” She’s half English and, in fact, lived in her father’s country up until the time she was eighteen. She retains a good deal of her English accent, although sometimes she lays it on kind of thick.
She can also lose most of it, should the need arise.
I like Shukey, I like her a lot, but we’ve never had a thing going. We both avoid it. It would get in the way of business. “Yeah, it’s me, Shuke. How are you?”
“I’m fine, and you?”
“Great. How was California?”
“Oh, it was lovely, simply lovely. If I hadn’t had to work it would have been that much more beautiful.”
“I know what you mean. Have you got anything in the works now?”
“Not that I know of. Mr. Biel didn’t mention anything in the offing. Have you got something?”
“I have need of your talents,” I told her.
“Which ones?” she asked, suspiciously.
“As a seductress.”
“A what?”
“A vamp.”
She started laughing and I waited for her to finish.
“I’m serious. Do you still have your old ID from the magazine?”
“I think so.”
“I want you to go down to Island Downs and make like you want to do an interview with a young apprentice named Danny Aiello,” I explained, and went on further about what I wanted her to do.
“You want me to play up to this kid, Aiello,” she recapped, “and see what he knows about Penny Hopkins’ disappearance, if anything.”
“Right.”
“And also see how he feels about Eddie Mapes?”
“Right again.”
“Are Hopkins and Mapes part of the same case?” she asked.
“They might be,” I hedged. “Hopkins is the main event, though. Also, see if he’s seen another jock named Louie Melendez recently. Can you do all of that for me, Shuke?”
“For you, Henry? Anything, anytime. I’ll get on it today.”
“Great. Oh, and Shuke …”
“What?”
“If our paths cross today, we don’t know each other, okay?”
“Okay, Henry. I’ll try to restrain my natural impulses to throw my arms around you and smother you with passionate kisses.”
“Hey, we’ll discuss that another time.”
“Fat chance,” she told me, and hung up.
I think I might have sent Shukey after Aiello more for the Mapes thing than for Penny’s disappearance. There was really no reason to believe that Danny Aiello might know more about Penny than anyone else. From what I’d told Shukey, she realized that, too. She had agreed simply as a favor to me, and I appreciated it. I made a mental note that I owed her one.
At least.
I got my car out of the parking garage where I store it and jumped on the Brooklyn Bridge. From there I took the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway to the Verrazano Bridge and into Staten Island.
The track had been built in the Clove Lake area in an attempt to develop the Island a little more — and bring more people through the bridge toll booths. The city stood to make quite a bundle, and not just from the added revenue the track would bring it.
My first step of the day was to find Benjamin Hopkins. I had hoped to find him at the morning workouts again, but I wasn’t that lucky. It wasn’t that bad, though. Although I didn’t find him at the work outs, I did locate him at his stable. He and a vet were going over Penny’s Penny.
“Good morning,” I greeted, having an endless supply of cool openings.
He grunted something, but didn’t look away from Penny.
“Any problem?” I asked.
“No, just a checkup, “he answered, still not looking away from the animal.
“Well, I don’t want to bother you, Mr. Hopkins, but I do need a picture of Penny — your daughter — and a look into her room, if that could be arranged.”
His hand went into his pocket and came out with a set of keys. He let them dangle from his fingers and I took them.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“The keys to my house. Go take whatever picture you need, and have your look into my daughter’s room. I’ll be here all day so you can bring the keys back or leave them with Howard, if you like. In fact, you could leave them in the house; I have a spare set.”
He never looked at me the whole time, just kept watching the vet and Penny.
I backed away and left, wondering if he’d even remember that I’d been there.