Hedging (A Smith and Wetzon Mystery)

Melitta?”
    He squinted at her. “Is that how it’s going to be?”
    “Yup.”
    “Chelsea Market,” he told the cab driver.
    Which is how Judy Blue found them as they walked back to Silvestri’s apartment carrying three fat shopping bags of groceries.
    “Uh oh,” Silvestri said spotting the special agent. “And she’s got a junior with her.”
    “Does she know about Marty Lawler?”
    “Not if our guys didn’t tell them.”
    “Meaning she doesn’t know.”
    Special Agent Blue introduced her associate as Special Agent Gelber. Gelber was a tall, serious young man with a fifties haircut and an ultra smooth shave. From his demeanor, he was definitely a second. Maybe even an agent in training, if the FBI had such a unit.
    As they climbed the stairs to Silvestri’s apartment, there was a flurry of activity from above. Patrice’s head appeared over the stairs. Her wig was a cluster of long, yellow sausage curls. “Silvestri!” she shrieked, raining thousands of shiny bits of confetti down on them. “Hello, Little Les, I knew it was you he was hiding!”
    “Hi, Patrice,” Leslie said.
    “Cat food is sooooo expensive, Silvestri.” Patrice paused. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”
    Something like a chuckle came from Silvestri. “Sure, Patrice. Special Agents Blue and Gelber. FBI. Would you like to come down and meet them?”
    Patrice’s head disappeared. A door slammed.
    Silvestri positioned the folding chairs around the card table. “Sitting or standing?”
    “I’m making coffee,” Leslie said, unpacking the bags, filling the kettle. She rinsed and dried the Melitta parts, set in the brown paper filter, measured the coffee.
    The agents sat down. Judy Blue said, “How’s that memory?”
    “No better, no worse,” Leslie said.
    “What kind of work was she doing for you?”
    Agent Blue rested her eyes on Silvestri. “Let’s let her tell us.”
    “We’re going around in circles,” Leslie said, pouring boiling water through the coffee, inhaling the intoxicating fumes.
    “Identified the bodies yet?” Silvestri set a container of milk on the table along with four unmatched mugs. He didn’t mention he already knew about the dead woman with the Russian name.
    “We have.”
    “So are you going to tell us or is it a state secret?”
    Leslie filled the mugs and sat down.
    Agent Blue put milk in her coffee and passed the container to her associate. “The woman has been identified as Natalie Nostrand. Born Natalya Nostradovich, Odessa, 1972. Emigrated to the U.S. with her parents in 1980. Settled in Brighton Beach. Graduated from NYU with a degree in Economics, 1994. Hired by Smith Barney in 1994 as a sales assistant, at which time she was fingerprinted. She moved to Peck, Landau in 1996, passed Series 7 and became registered as a stockbroker in 1997. Left Peck, Landau in 1999. In January, 2000, she paid two million for a condo in Tribeca.”
    “And between 2000 and today?” Silvestri said.
    “No one seems to know.” Agent Blue’s fingers tapped the card table.
    “Her parents?”
    “Father died. Mother remarried and moved away. No known siblings.”
    “Good coffee, Les,” Silvestri said. He checked his watch.
    The two special agents were looking at Leslie, as if expecting her to contribute to the mix. More tapping from Agent Blue.
    “If you’re asking me if I know her, I don’t.”
    “You never recruited her?” Agent Gelber looked surprised.
    “I don’t remember if I did. My office would know, wouldn’t they? Her name means nothing to me now.”
    “You need a cigarette?” Silvestri asked Agent Blue.
    “I quit.”
    “So did I,” Silvestri said, taking a pack of Marlboros from his shirt pocket and offering it to Agent Blue.
    They both lit up and inhaled with gusto.
    Leslie laughed. “You don’t smoke, Agent Gelber?”
    “No.”
    “You will,” Agent Blue said with uncharacteristic good cheer.
    Silvestri brought over an ashtray. “Did you identify the second body?”
    The agent’s face changed, stiffened. Her eyes moved from Silvestri to Leslie, back to Silvestri. Silvestri, puzzled, moved his chair closer to Leslie.
    “We have.” She stopped and waited.
    Exasperated, Silvestri said, “Well, what’s the big secret?”
    Judy Blue’s voice was flat. “We were able to identify the remains of the second body by a print. He was one of yours at one time, Silvestri.”
    “Fuck!” Silvestri was on his feet.
    “In the past. He got his law degree