To Die in Beverly Hills Read Online Free Page B

another round. "Hartmann was approached by one of Tony Dio's lawyers and a couple of muscle men," he said. "They tried to force him to switch three hundred grand in cash out of the vault for three hundred grand in phony twenties. Dio figured that even with a big investigation, the last person they would suspect would be the president of the bank. He offered Hartmann the choice between a trip to Forest Lawn Cemetery or a loss for which the bank was fully insured. Hartmann did the right thing and came to us. We wired him, made some tape recordings when they met again and arrested Dio's lawyer and one of his gunsels. As usual, we couldn't make a case on Dio himself. He was too well insulated."
    Bailey nodded. "It all fits."
    "Fits with what?" Kelly said.
    "With what the informant told me," Bailey said. "It all fits."
    Kelly was expressionless, sipped his drink.
    Bailey glanced at his wristwatch; Carr realized it was something he did frequently.
    "I've got another meeting with the informant set up for tonight," Bailey said. "I wanna make sure there are no last-minute changes."
    "Have you notified Hartmann that he's on somebody's list?" Carr said.
    "Finally reached him by phone an hour ago," Bailey said. "He's on vacation in Palm Springs. He said no one knows he is there. I told him to stay there until I called. He agreed. I'm planning to be inside the house when the hit man comes in to do the job...arrest him for attempted murder. I'd appreciate it if you fellas could help me on the stakeout. We're shorthanded."
    Carr didn't answer. He lit a cigarette and blew out the smoke. "How do you know that the hit man is going to do the job at Hartmann's house?"
    "My informant is right in with these people. I really can't tell you any more at this point without revealing the snitch's identity...but I will tell you again that the information is solid. You can bank on it. I mean really bank on it. I'm telling you that the hit man will make his move tomorrow." He looked at his watch again. "I've really gotta run," he said. "Should I count you gents in or out?"
    "What's the hit man's name?" Kelly asked, pressing him.
    Bailey eased himself off the barstool. "That's unknown at this time," he said, turning to Carr. "I can sure use the help tomorrow...and I'm sure you're interested in protecting your witness."
    Carr looked at Kelly. Kelly nodded. "Count us in," Carr said.
    Bailey winked. "I'll give you a ring tomorrow morning. We'll go for it." He looked at his watch again and hurried out the door.
    Kelly stared at the door. "I wonder what he's up to?"
    "I don't know," Carr said, "but we have to go with it. Hartmann is a federal witness. Good info or bad, we have to protect him."
     
    Because of the late hour, it took Travis Bailey less than twenty minutes to drive from Chinatown to Beverly Hills. He steered off the freeway and onto a deserted Wilshire Boulevard. As he passed a Beverly Hills City Limits sign, he stopped at a service station. He stepped into a telephone booth and dialed Lee Sheboygan's number. The phone rang seven times.
    Lee Sheboygan yawned into the phone before he said hello.
    "I need to meet," Bailey said.
    "Now?"
    "I'll see you at the same place as last time." Bailey hung up the receiver. He returned to his car and climbed in. Having cruised a few blocks, he turned into an alley that paralleled some small stores facing Wilshire Boulevard. He parked under an awning at the rear of a pizza shop that was closed for business and turned off the engine. He leaned back in the seat. Less than fifteen minutes later, Lee Sheboygan pulled up behind him in a Mercedes-Benz coupe. The diminutive man, attired in a green jump suit, climbed out of the sports car. His Greek fisherman's hat and neatly trimmed black beard gave him a Middle Eastern appearance. Sheboygan looked both ways in the alley before he climbed in next to Bailey.
    "Hi, guy," Bailey said as he slid into the seat.
    Sheboygan's face made its usual twitch to the left. "You woke me