I exhale, relieved. “Of course.”
Anna waves to Boris to zip up the suitcases. She watches him do so. We both do. Then the old woman turns to me and asks, “Your client, he was good with this?”
“Not hardly,” I say. “But I convinced him that he had no choice.”
“As I knew you would.” With that, Anna reaches into a white leather handbag and removes a mustard-colored nine-by-seven-inch envelope. “As we agreed,” she says, handing me the envelope. “Two copies.”
I reach out for the envelope, take it, and bring it to my lap. I hesitate. “These are all the copies of the video? There are no others?”
Anna Groszek casts me a cold look. I have offended her. “Your client is safe. You have honored your end of the bargain, and now so do I.”
Anna stands and I follow her lead. “Look,” I say, “there’s something you should know. I’m pretty sure Mr. Hanson has figured out you’re the source of the video. The angle of the video is straight on and down, and yours is the house directly behind Jennifer Yamura’s house. My client is a powerful man, Mrs. Groszek. And recent events indicate to me that he’s more cunning than I’d given him credit for. And more dangerous. I’m not sure when you’re planning on leaving the country, but I’m thinking the sooner the better.”
The old woman processes what I’ve just told her. She looks once at Boris, then back at me. “Do not worry about me, Mr. McFarland. This money will be deposited this morning into my bank and wired immediately to my other bank in Poland. Tomorrow, Boris and I fly on US Air to Frankfurt, then to Warsaw.”
“Envoy class, of course.”
Anna Groszek smiles.
23
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 20; SUNDAY, OCTOBER 21
It’s been a week since I met Anna Groszek, and Piper and I are in our room at the Park Hyatt at the Bellevue. We checked in an hour ago, enough time to change and get ready before heading down to the ballroom and this year’s American Way charity gala.
I watch Piper pull on the strapless black Romona Keveza gown she bought at Latrice, a pricey boutique in Bryn Mawr. The dress looks great against her shoulder-length blonde hair, and I say so. I put on my jacket, and we leave the room, take the elevator down to the hotel lobby, and walk toward the elliptical marble-and-iron stairwell that leads up one flight to the grand ballroom. The ballroom is vast. Almost a hundred feet long and eighty feet wide, with thirty-foot ceilings, the space can comfortably accommodate eight hundred people. Tonight it holds seventy-five tables set for ten. Each is fitted out in white linen, white china, sterling silver, and glistening crystal stemware—appropriate for the annual blue-chip charity affair. I lead Piper into the room, toward our table near the front. I spot Kimberly Baldwin, who, apparently, will be sitting with us. Next to Kimberly is a good-looking man who appears to be twenty years her senior. The imprisonment of Kimberly’s husband, Phillip, doesn’t seem to have stunted her social life.
“Hello, Mick. Piper, you look smashing!” Kimberly gushes as she leans in to kiss me and Piper. Kimberly introduces us to her date. “My dear, dear friend, Allen Cohen. He’s been such a godsend to me through the nightmare of the past two years.”
Piper praises Kimberly’s gown and hair, and Kimberly makes Piper promise to give Kimberly the name of her stylist. Allen and I are exchanging small talk about the Eagles when I spot my partner, Susan, coming up to the table. Piper and I stand to greet her.
Just as Susan joins us, I hear Piper say, “Uh-oh.” I turn to my head in time to see Devlin Walker approaching us. With him is his wife, Leisha, wearing a blue sequined gown altered to accommodate her condition. She’s visibly pregnant, her abdomen sticking out, though you probably couldn’t tell if you were standing behind her. Leisha is apparently one of those lucky women who carries her pregnancy only in the front. “Basketball on a stick,” Piper once described it.
“Hello, Mick, Piper,” Devlin says, extending his hand. “Leisha, you remember Mick and Piper McFarland from Mick’s days at the DA’s office. This is Mick’s law partner, Susan Klein.”
“So, when are you due?” Piper asks Leisha.
“If I stuck myself with one of those temperature thingies turkeys come with nowadays,” Leisha says, “it would pop.”
We all smile, then Leisha says to Devlin, “Come on, honey, I need to sit down.” Devlin takes Leisha’s arm, and they walk away.
We take our seats, and I scan the room. Our table is one row back from the stage. The front line of tables includes three containing the American Way of Eastern Pennsylvania officers and directors and their spouses. Another table is filled with local politicians. I see the president of the city council and his wife. Seated with him is the chairman of the Philadelphia Democratic City Committee and his wife, and the president judge of the court of common pleas and her husband.
The fifth table in the front row was purchased, as it is every year, by Hanson World Industries. David’s half brother, Edwin, sits facing the stage. The physical differences between Edwin and David are striking. Where David is tall and lean, Edwin is a fireplug, maybe five foot seven, and thick and solid as rock. In contrast to David’s fair complexion and sandy-blond hair, Edwin is olive-skinned and has dark hair. There is something striking about David’s older brother, though. He radiates strength, energy. Not the charismatic Kennedy type that wins instant affection, but the subdued, smoldering kind that commands respect, even fear. Contributing greatly to this are Edwin’s eyes: wide set on his large face and deep and dark, almost black. They give the impression that they front a keen and calculating intelligence.
To Edwin’s left is a dour woman who appears to be in her late forties and who I assume is Edwin’s date. To Edwin’s right are Kevin Kratz, David’s law-school lackey, and Kevin’s wife, Loretta. After we graduated, David made sure to enlist Kevin to follow him to HWI’s general counsel’s office. Based on what I’ve learned recently about David, my guess is that he knew that in order to seize the general-counsel position, he would need a loyal lieutenant by his side at HWI, just as he did in college and law school. Ironically, when David stepped down, Edwin tapped Kevin Kratz to succeed him. I’m sure this galls David, and I’m equally sure that was a big part of why Edwin did it. To the left of Edwin’s date sits Brandon Landis, the president of HWI’s North American operations. Next to Brandon is his trophy wife, Lauren. The last two seats at the HWI table are empty. I wonder who had the audacity to stand up Edwin Hanson by no-showing.