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It came out in spurts and dashes.
“I have information to trade if we not deported.”
“We can’t make that sort—” began Mark.
Barry touched Mark’s arm. “If it’s important and you are able to help us solve a crime, we will speak to the Immigration authorities. We can promise no more than that.”
Mark mused; with six million illegal immigrants in the United States, another couple was not going to sink the boat.
Casefikis looked desperate. “I needed job, I needed money, you understand?”
Both men understood. They faced the same problem a dozen times a week behind a dozen different faces.
“When I offered this job as waiter in restaurant, my wife very pleased. On second week I was given special job to serve lunch in a hotel room for big man. The only trouble that the man wanted waiter who not speak English. My English very bad so bossman tell me I could go, keep my mouth shut, speak only Greek. For twenty dollars I say yes. We go in back of van to hotel—I think in Georgetown. When we arrive I sent to kitchen, join staff in basement. I dress and start taking food to private dining-room. There five-six men and I heard big man say I no speak English. So they talk on. I don’t listen. Very last cup of coffee, when start talking about President Kane, I like Kane, I listen. I heard say, ‘We have to blow her away.’ Another man say: ‘The best day would still be 10 March, the way we planned it.’ And then I heard: ‘I agree with Senator, let’s get rid of the bitch.’ Someone was staring at me, so I left room. When I downstairs washing up, one man came in and shouted, ‘Hey, you, catch this.’ I looked around put arms up. All at once he start come for me. I run for door and down street. He shoot gun at me, I feel bit pain in leg but I able to get away because he older, big and slower than me. I hear him shout but I knew he couldn’t catch me. I scared. I get home pretty damn quick, and wife, and I move out that night and hide out of town with friend from Greece. Hoped all would be okay, but my leg got bad after few days so Ariana made me come to hospital and call for you because my friend tell they come around to my place look for me because if they find me they kill me.” He stopped, breathed deeply, his unshaven face covered in sweat, and looked at the two men imploringly.
“What’s your full name?” said Calvert, sounding about as excited as he would if he were issuing a traffic ticket.
“Angelo Mexis Casefikis.”
Calvert made him spell it in full.
“Where do you live?”
“Now at Blue Ridge Manor Apartments, 11501 Elkin Street, Wheaton. Home of my friend, good man, please don’t give trouble.”
“When did this incident take place?”
“Last Thursday,” Casefikis said instantly.
Calvert checked the date. “24 February?”
The Greek shrugged. “Last Thursday,” he repeated.
“Where is the restaurant you were working in?”
“A few streets from me. It called Golden Duck.” Calvert continued taking notes. “And where was this hotel you were taken to?”
“Don’t know, in Georgetown. Maybe could take you there when out of hospital.”
“Now, Mr. Casefikis, please be careful about this. Was there anyone else working at this luncheon who might have overheard the conversation in that room?”
“No, sir. I only waiter attend in room.”
“Have you told anyone what you overheard? Your wife? The friend whose house you’re staying at? Anyone?”
“No, sir. Only you. No tell wife what I hear. No tell no one, too scared.”
Calvert continued to interview, asking for descriptions of the other men in the room and making the Greek repeat everything to see if the story remained the same. It did. Mark looked on silently.
“Okay, Mr. Casefikis, that’s all we can do for this evening. We’ll return in the morning and have you sign a written statement.”
“But they going to kill me. They going to kill me.”
“No need to worry, Mr. Casefikis. We’ll put a police guard on your room as soon as possible; no one is going to kill you.”
Casefikis dropped his eyes, not reassured.
“We’ll see you again in the morning,” said Calvert, closing his notebook. “You just get some rest. Good night, Mr. Casefikis.”
Calvert glanced back at a happy Benjamin, still deeply absorbed in $25,000 Pyramid with no words, just money. He waved again at them and smiled, showing all three of his teeth, two black and one gold. Calvert and Andrews returned to the corridor.
“I don’t believe a word of it,” Barry said immediately. “With his English, he could easily have got hold of the wrong end of the stick. It was probably quite innocent. People curse the President all the time. My father does, but that doesn’t mean he would kill her.”
“Maybe, but what about that gunshot wound? That’s for real,” said Mark.
“I know. I guess that’s the one thing that worries me,” Barry said. “It could just be a cover for something completely different. I think I’ll speak to the boss to be on the safe side.”
Calvert headed for the pay phone by the side of the elevator and took out two quarters. All agents carry a pocketful of quarters; there are no special telephone privileges for members of the Bureau.
“Well, was he hoping to rob Fort Knox?” Elizabeth Dexter’s voice startled Mark, although he had half-expected her to return. She was obviously on her way home: the white coat had been replaced by a red jacket.
“Not exactly,” replied Mark. “We’ll have to come around tomorrow morning to tidy things up; probably get him to sign a written statement and take his fingerprints, then we’ll pick up the gold.”
“Fine,” she said. “Dr. Delgado will be on duty tomorrow.” She smiled sweetly. “You’ll like her, too.?
?
“Is this hospital entirely staffed by beautiful lady doctors?” said Mark. “How does one get to stay the night?”
“Well,” she said, “the flu is the fashionable disease this month. Even President Kane has had it.”
Calvert looked around sharply at the mention of the President’s name. Elizabeth Dexter glanced at her watch.
“I’ve just completed two hours’ unpaid overtime,” she said. “If you don’t have any more questions, Mr. Andrews, I ought to get home now.” She smiled and turned to go, her heels tapping sharply against the tiled floor.
“Just one more question, Dr. Dexter,” said Mark, following her around the corner beyond the range of Barry Calvert’s disapproving eyes and ears. “What would you say to having dinner with me later tonight?”
“What would I say?” she said teasingly. “Let me see, I think I’d accept gracefully and not too eagerly. It might be interesting to find out what G-men are really like.”
“We bite,” said Mark. They smiled at each other. “Okay, it’s 7:15 now. If you’re willing to take a chance on it, I could probably pick you up by 8:30.”
Elizabeth jotted her address and phone number on a page of his diary.
“So you’re a left-hander, are you, Liz?”
The dark eyes flashed momentarily up to meet his. “Only my lovers call me Liz,” she said, and was gone.
“It’s Calvert, boss. I can’t make my mind up about this one. I don’t know if he’s a jerk or for real so I’d like to run it past you.”
“Fine, Barry. Shoot.”
“Well, it could be serious, or just a hoax. He may even be nothing more than a small-time thief trying to get off the hook for something bigger. But I can’t be sure. And if every word he said turned out to be true, I figured you ought to know immediately.” Barry relayed the salient parts of the interview without mentioning the Senator, stressing that there was an added factor he did not want to discuss over the phone.
“What are you trying to do, get me in the divorce courts—I suppose I’ll have to come back to the office,” said Nick Stames, avoiding his wife’s expression of annoyance. “Okay, okay. Thank God I got to eat at least some of the moussaka. I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Barry.”
