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made the right choice. Vinny's getting lots of heat from everybody. Starting
with Lola's family. The dancing Dakotas, he calls them. A whole chorus line of
whining siblings, waiting for their fifteen minutes of fame. That's what their
mama primed them for." Bart was talking nonstop, tapping the fingers of both
hands on his desktop.
"I got the governor on my back, too. She's big on domestic violence and all
that political garbage. Then we got victims' rights groups. You name it, we
got it. And you know the drill, Alex. When the shit hits the fan, the number
one man is always unavailable for comment. Mr. Sinnelesi had to leave town.
Family emergency down in Boca. Vinny, I tell him Vinny, first I take a huge
pay cut to come work for you and do public service, instead of making a real
living for me and my family. Now I got to have my balls on the chopping block,
too?"
"You wanna come up for air, Mr. Frankel, or you wanna just babble on?"
"Sorry, Mike. It's Mike, isn't it? Exactly what can I help you with?"
I answered, trying to set a pace for the conversation. "I hadn't spoken with
Lola in months, as I think I told you when you and Anne Reininger came to my
office. I'd really like to get a sense of what her life was like those last
six weeks. How she was spending her time, who she was in touch with, what your
contact was with her."
"Me? My contact with Lola?"
"Hey, who do you think she's talking to? You got somebody under your desk we
can't see?"
"No, it's just, I mean well, Anne's the prosecutor assigned to the case. I had
to meet with Lola on a few occasions, just to oversee what was happening with
the sting. Anne's the one who spoke to her almost every day. She can answer
your questions."
"I'd like to begin with you, as long as we're here. Why don't you give us an
idea of how many times you met with her? Where and when."
Frankel thought for a moment and opened his large red desk calendar. "All of
my business appointments are logged in this. Let me just see." He opened the
book about midway, to June, and began to flip through the pages. "I guess the
first time I met Lola was in the early fall. September twenty-third, to be
exact. Anne brought her up to me to introduce us. High-profile case and all
that. Vinny likes me to keep an eye on things."
The intercom buzzed. "Excuse me, Mr. Frankel. I've got your daughter on line
two. She wants to know if she can use the car tonight after you get home.
Would you like to speak with her now?"
"Hold my calls, will you? Tell her yes, and try not to interrupt us till I'm
through here, okay?"
"How many meetings after that?""Skimming through here, it looks like six, at
the most."
"Where were they?"
"That was the only one in my office. The other times I went down to the second
floor, to Anne's bureau. Family Violence Unit."
"Did you ever meet with her anywhere else, outside the office?"
"Yes. I was at her sister's house Lily's the day we staged the shooting. We
went over, Anne and I, with the detectives just to make sure we approved the
setup and to stroke the rest of the family. Pump Lola up."
Frankel was on his feet now, adjusting the blinds on his window as the
sunlight bounced its glare off the icy surface of the parked cars in the lot
below.
"Must have been a very tense morning. Were you there when the scam went down?"
He did the "me" thing again. "Me?"
"Yeah."
"No, I did what I had to do and got out of there. Had stuff to work on back at
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the office."
"What stuff?"
"Had to meet with one of the guys on a home-invasion case. Had to help him
draft a bill of particulars."
"Got that in your big red book?" Mike asked.
"Got what?"
"Your meeting on the case you just told us about."
"That, um, that came up kind of unexpectedly. It's probably not in here."
Frankel patted the cover of the book.
"Mind if I take a look through those entries?"
"I just told you, I doubt that one's in here."
"I mean the references to Lola. Mind if I jot down those dates?"
Frankel opened the book to the first September date and passed it across to
Chapman.
"Help yourself, Detective."
Mike rested his notepad on the desk. He turned the pages and copied the dates
and times of the Dakota-Reininger-Frankel appointments. When he got to the day
of the shooting, he paused and read aloud: "'Thursday morning, December
nineteenth. Nine A.M. Meet Reininger at Dakota scene. Sting preparation. Noon.
Lunch with Vinny. Two P.M. In the field.'
"Strangest thing. When my partner uses that expression 'in the field' it means
he took the rest of his tour off to get laid. But then, we're just cops. What
does it mean to you, Mr. Frankel? What kind of home invasion were you working
on?"
"Who's in control of this operation, Alex, you or this rude ?"
"Mike and I want to know exactly the same information. How did you spend that
afternoon?"
"I, uh, I must have gone ... I guess I left here early. I probably did some
holiday shopping."
"Like Ms. Cooper tells the street mopes that sit in her office and lie to her
all day, 'probably' and 'I guess' and 'I must have' don't cut it. This ain't
ancient history, Mr. Frankel. It's one week ago this very day. When you and
Fat Vinny pushed back from the lunch table, where did you go and what did you
do?"
"My daughter was coming home from college the next day. I went over to the
mall to pick up a few gifts for my kids."
"What stores? I assume you can tell me what you bought and give me receipts
for the things."
"You know, Detective, I'm the executive assistant district attorney for this
county. You blow in here like you're auditioning for a bit part as a wise guy
on The Sopranos. All bluff and bluster and bullshit, and I actually let you
rattle me, like I have something to worry about. Well, you came to the wrong
place this time. I supervised this investigation. I'm not the subject of it.
Why don't you two just crawl back through the tunnel, or however you dragged
yourselves here, and go solve your case like professionals, okay?"
"Did you drive Lola back to Manhattan with your own wheels, or did you use a
government car to take her home?"
Frankel strode to the door of his office and opened it wide.
Mike got up from his chair as though to leave, then walked behind the desk. He
leaned over and reached into the trash, removing from it the Kleenex-wrapped
piece of gum that had been discarded when Frankel first brought us into the
room. He held it up to the light and admired it as though it were a trophy.
"What the f ?"
"I'm sorry. Would you prefer that I have the office sealed off while Ms.
Cooper gets us a search warrant to take your droppings? You a Wrigley's man?
Or would you suggest we compare your underwear to the things we found in
Lola's apartment? I'd say those size-forty shorts would fit him pretty well,
don't you think, blondie?"
Frankel walked over to Chapman and grabbed the tissue from his hand without
meeting any resistance. "You two must have lost your minds."
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