Chapter 13

Looking in the mirror, Randall straightened his tie. Glancing briefly at the reflection of the younger man lounging on the bed behind him, he gave his tie a final wiggle before he was satisfied with its appearance. He turned around.

“John, I have a favor to ask you,” Randall asked.

“Certainly, you name it.” John Weber lit a cigarette and took a drag. He set the cigarette in the ashtray on the table next to the bed.

“There’s someone I’d like you to check out.” Randall walked toward the bed and sat down on a chair. He faced John.

“Anyone I know?”

“I don’t think so. His name is Anthony Marino. He’s staying at Cliffwood Motel.”

“What does he look like?” John asked. He reached for his cigarette and took another drag.

“Italian, looks like he should be a Vegas entertainer.”

“Sounds hot.”

Randall chuckled. “The man has raw sexuality, but I have a feeling his interests lie elsewhere. In fact, I am certain of it. It’s my daughter-in-law.”

“Vera, screwing around on Harrison? I find that hard to believe. I’ve never heard a whisper of her stepping out.”

“I don’t believe she ever has—until now. While I’m not in the habit of monitoring my children’s sex life, I’m concerned she may be in over her head. Something about the man, I think he may be dangerous.”

“Have you spoken to Harrison about it?”

“No. I’d rather just handle it.”

“Like you do with everything.” John flashed him a smile. He stood up and walked toward the chair. Bending down, John brushed his lips over Randall’s.

“So will you do it?” Randall asked when the brief kiss ended.

“Have I ever denied you anything? I’ll see what I can find out.”

“When?”

John laughed. “I’ll get right on it. Promise.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “But I have to go, or I’ll be late for the meeting. I’ll call you later.”

Before leaving, John lifted the foot of the mattress off the floor until the Murphy bed disappeared into the wall of Randall’s office. Giving Randall a final wink, John strolled from the room while straightening his own tie.

The door to Randall Coulson’s private office opened and Maryanne Peterson looked up from her desk. John Weber walked out, straightening his tie. Maryanne smiled. He is so handsome, she thought. Of course, he was too old for her. She guessed he was in his fifties. A widower, he had never remarried and from what she understood, he had been working for Randall Coulson since the family moved to Coulson in 1949.

Maryanne had only been Randall’s secretary for six months. His previous secretary had gotten married, and the groom wanted his new wife to stay at home.

“I’ve a call on hold for Mr. Coulson, are you done with your meeting? Can I put the call through?”

“I believe Mr. Coulson stepped into the restroom,” John told her. “Perhaps you should give him a few minutes before you put any calls through.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Weber.”

John flashed Maryanne a smile then left Randall Coulson’s outer office.

Later that afternoon, as Maryanne began getting ready to go home for the evening, John Weber walked back into her office.

“Is he in there?” John asked.

“Yes, he just got off the phone.”

“Please tell him I’m here. He asked me for some papers earlier, and I brought them.”

“Would you like me to take them in for you?”

“No, thanks. I’m afraid I need to go over a few of them with him.”

“Okay.” Maryanne picked up her telephone to ring her boss. When he got on the phone, she explained Mr. Weber was here to see him and had brought the papers he had requested.

“He said to go right in,” Maryann said when she hung up the phone.

“So what were you able to find out?” Randall asked as he lit his cigar and leaned back in his desk chair.

John took the chair next to the desk and opened the file he had hastily prepared.

“Before checking into the Cliffwood, he was staying with his sister and brother-in-law—Nick and Gina Carracci. It looks like Carracci and his wife are straight arrows. They have a boarding house up at Clement Falls and a little girl. It appears Carracci is not fond of his brother-in-law, but his wife is always trying to bail out her brother.

“I don’t think Vera is in imminent danger, because according to my sources, Marino left town for the week but intends to return next Saturday. I’m not really sure where he went, but his car doesn’t seem to be anywhere in town. If Vera is having an affair with him, I really couldn’t find anything to support that.”

“So what about his past? Do I need to be concerned?” Randall asked.

“He’s been married three times. The first wife died in childbirth. But the second wife, she was murdered. Strangled. I talked to some cops in Long Island, and they’re certain he was involved, but he had an airtight alibi and they couldn’t pin it on him. Apparently, a second body was found around the same time. The guy had been shot. According to a close friend of Marino’s dead wife, the wife was having an affair with the dead guy.”

“This doesn’t sound promising. What about the third wife?”

“He had a son with the third wife. Apparently, he used to knock her around a lot. She got tired of being his punching bag and took off with the kid.”

“Are you sure she took off? You think he killed her?” Randall asked.

“I don’t think so. Her family isn’t screaming for the cops to look into her disappearance. They don’t seem to be talking.”

“What about the rest?”

“Well, it looks like he was hanging out with some heavy hitters back east. According to a couple guys I talked to, they’re convinced he’s a hitman for one of the crime families back there. There’s definitely some connection between him and Vincent Santiago.”

“The crime boss?”

“Yes. Word has it he sent Marino out here to cool off. Not sure what happened. There aren’t any warrants out on him, but the cops I talked to say he’s bad news.”

“Anything else, John?”

“No. That’s about all I could find on such short notice.”

“You did great. You always do.” Randall leaned over and patted John’s knee.

“So what are you going to do with the information?”

“I haven’t decided. But it looks like I may have a little time to think about it, if he is out of town. Maybe we’ll be lucky and he won’t return.”

“I hope so. By the way, I’m having a poker game tomorrow night, you want to come over?” John asked.

“Who’ll be there?”

“Just me.”

“I’ll be there.” Randall smiled. “Thanks again John, I owe you.”

“Don’t worry Randall; I’ll make you pay up tomorrow night.” Both men laughed.