Betrayers(38)

Doctor Easy: Before we leave, Roland . . . have you made a decision yet?

Roland: About the fund? I think I’m ready to go ahead, as long as you and Lucas are still on board.

Doctor Easy: We are. It’s a solid investment, seems to me. And a worthwhile cause.

Roland: No question about that.

Doctor Easy: You still sound hesitant.

Roland: I’m not, but [I? Vi?] . . . completely convinced yet.

Doctor Easy: Another reading?

Roland: Yes.

Doctor Easy: Will you know by Saturday night?

Roland: I think so.

Doctor Easy: Good. Lucas is anxious to get things moving.

Stewart: What sort of investment, if you don’t mind my asking?

Doctor Easy: You’ll meet Lucas tomorrow night. He’ll give you the details if you’re interested.

Stewart: You said it was a worthwhile cause?

Doctor Easy: Worthwhile, and potentially lucrative for the investors. Helping black families in need.

Stewart: Helping them how?

Doctor Easy: Tomorrow night, Deron. Let’s be moving on now. I’m late for dinner as it is.



Investment fund to help black families in need. Worthwhile, lucrative—the perfect con to work on well-off African Americans who were both socially conscious and greedy. Uh-huh. Scam devised by Lucas, probably with Mama’s help. Manipulate the vics by pretending to be one of the investors himself. Roland needs more convincing than Doctor Easy, but he’s into psychics, Lucas introduces him to Mama, and she tells him it’s a terrific deal and he should go for it. One more reading—yeah. Chances are he’s the big pigeon, with the most money to invest; that’s why they’ve spent so much time and effort setting him up.

Tamara listened to the section again, and a third time, trying to make out the words Roland had said right before “completely convinced.” Somebody had called out for the bartender at that point. First word: “Vi,” not “I.” She was pretty sure of that now. The other missing word. “Isn’t?” Had to be.

“Vi isn’t completely convinced yet.”

Vi. Short for what? Violet, Viola, Vivian . . . and a bunch of other possibilities. Whatever, she must be Roland’s wife. So were they both into psychics? Or maybe just her and she was the one who needed convincing by Alisha’s readings? But if that was it, then why had Roland gone straight to Mama’s from the lounge meeting tonight?

Lots of questions that needed answering before she could figure out the best way to blow up the scheme. She had to have evidence, too, in order to put Lucas and Alisha away. Didn’t exist anymore where the identity and property theft was concerned; and using somebody’s name wasn’t a crime, unless you did it to commit fraud. But setting up a scam wasn’t a fraud felony until and unless money changed hands. And if you waited too long after that happened, they’d skip and disappear with the loot.

Tamara listened to the entire tape, start to finish, in case there was anything useful Stewart might’ve missed. There wasn’t. Most of the conversation was feeler stuff, strangers getting to know one another in general ways, and sports chatter. Doctor Easy did most of the talking, asking Stewart questions, some of them with thinly veiled sexual overtones. Stewart fielded them all smoothly and with just the right amount of nervousness, the way he had on the phone with Hawkins. Roland, as Stewart had told her, didn’t have much to say. A listener, she thought. Brought along to evaluate the new recruit. At some point Roland had probably given Doctor Easy a signal to go ahead and issue the invitation to the club meeting tomorrow night.

Zeller was mentioned a few times, mostly by Stewart in casual attempts to draw out information. No such luck. The brief exchange about the investment fund was all there was on that subject.

It was late, after ten o’clock, when she switched off the recorder and locked the tape in her desk drawer. She was tired, gritty eyed, but she doubted she’d sleep much again to-night. Too keyed up.

Quiet in the office, too—too quiet. That late-night stillness empty buildings had. The walls were thick enough and insulated enough so that none of the South Park sounds penetrated. She was in the midst of a big, teeming city, with only a hundred yards or so separating her from crowds of people having a good time, but it was as if she were a long way off from anybody, alone on an island of light surrounded by darkness.

Lucas had done this to her. Just when she’d gotten her life back in sync, he’d screwed it up again. Brought the loneliness back. Damn him! Then she thought: Sure, blame him, but blame yourself, too. Tamara Corbin, hotshot de-tective, who makes all the wrong personal decisions, who tries to live in the fast lane but keeps ending up as lifestyle roadkill.