Abruzzi was sitting in one of the wingback chairs. His suit was impeccable. His shirt was a brilliant white. His face was expressionless. He motioned to the wingback next to him. “Sit down,” he said. “I thought we should have a conversation.”
Darrow was motionless at the door.
I sat in the chair, and I took the gun out of my bag, and I aimed it at Abruzzi. “What would you like to talk about?”
“Is that gun supposed to frighten me?”
“It's a precaution.”
“Not good military strategy for a meeting of surrender.”
“Which one of us is supposed to be surrendering?”
“You, of course,” he said. “You're soon to be taken as a prisoner of war.”
“News flash. You need serious psychiatric help.”
“I've lost troops because of you.”
“The rabbit?”
“He was a valued member of my command.”
“The bear?”
Abruzzi gave a distracted wave of his hand. “The bear was hired help. He was sacrificed for your benefit and my protection. He had an unfortunate habit of gossiping to people outside my family.”
“Okay, how about Soder. Was he troops?”
“Soder failed me. Soder had no character. He was a coward. He couldn't control his own wife and daughter. He was a useless liability. Just like his bar. The insurance on the bar was worth more than the bar itself.”
“I'm not sure what part I play in all this.”
“You're the enemy. You chose to be on Evelyn's side in this game. As I'm sure you know, Evelyn has something I want. I'll give you a last chance to survive. You can help me get back what's rightfully mine.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
Abruzzi looked down at my gun. “Two bullets?”
“That's all I need.” Oh man, I couldn't believe I just said that. I hoped Abruzzi left first because I probably just wet the chair.
“It's war, then?” Abruzzi asked. “You should reconsider. You won't like what's going to happen to you. No more fun and games.”
I didn't say anything.
Abruzzi stood and walked out the door. Darrow followed.
I sat in the chair for a while with the gun in my hand, waiting for my heart rate to drop back to normal. I stood up and checked the chair seat. Then I checked my seat. Both dry. It was a miracle.
Walking four blocks for a Tastykake had lost some of its appeal. Maybe it would be better to set my affairs in order. Aside from establishing a legal guardian for Rex, the only open end in my life was Andy Bender. I went upstairs to my apartment, and I called the office.
“I'm going after Bender,” I said to Lula. “Do you want to ride shotgun?”
“No way, Jose. You'd have to put me in a full contamination suit before I'd go anywhere near that place. Even then, I wouldn't go. I'm telling you, God's got something going on there. He's got plans.”
I hung up with Lula, and I called Kloughn.
“I'm going after Bender,” I said to him. “Do you want to ride along?”
“Oh darn. I can't. I'd like to. You know how much I'd like to do that. But I can't. I just got a big case. A car crash, right in front of the Laundromat. Well, okay, it wasn't exactly in front of the Laundromat. I had to run a few blocks to get to it in time. But I think there's going to be some good injury.”
Maybe this is for the best, I told myself. Maybe at this point in time I'm better off doing the job alone. Maybe I would have been better off alone always. Unfortunately, I still don't have handcuffs. And what's worse, I don't have a car. What I have is a gun with two bullets.
So I chose the only alternative left to me. I called a cab.
“WAIT HERE FOR me,” I told the driver. “I won't be long.”
He cut his eyes to me, and then he looked out at the projects. “Good thing I know your father, or I wouldn't sit here idling my engine. This isn't exactly an upscale neighborhood.”
I had my gun in the black nylon webbed holster, strapped to my leg. I left my bag in the cab. I walked to the door and knocked.
Bender's wife answered.
“I'm looking for Andy,” I told her.
“You're kidding, right?”
“I'm serious.”
“He's dead. I thought you would have heard.”
For a moment my mind went blank. My second reaction was disbelief. She was lying. Then I looked beyond her and realized the apartment was clean, and there was no sign of Andy Bender. “I didn't hear,” I said. “What happened?”
“Remember how he had the flu?”
I nodded.
“Well, it killed him. Turned out he had one of those superbugs. After you left, he got a neighbor to take him to the hospital, but it went into his lungs and that was that. It was an act of God.”
All the hair stood up on my arm. “I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, right,” she said. And she closed the door.
I walked back to the cab and slunk into the backseat.
“You're awful white,” the driver said. “Are you okay?”
“Something bizarre just happened, but I'm fine. I'm getting used to bizarre things.”
“Now what?”
“Take me to Vinnie's.”
I BURST INTO the bonds office. “You're not going to believe this,” I said to Lula. “Andy Bender is dead.”
“Get out. Are you shitting me?”
The door to Vinnie's inner office whipped open. “Were there witnesses? Cripes, you didn't shoot him in the back, did you? My insurance company hates that.”
“I didn't shoot him at all. He died from the flu. I was just at his apartment. His wife told me he was dead. From the flu.”
Lula did the sign of the cross. “I'm glad I learned about this cross thing,” she said.
Ranger was at Connie's desk. He had a file in his hand, and he was smiling. “Did you just get out of a cab?”
“Maybe.”
The smile widened. “You went after an FTA in a cab.”
I rested my hand on my gun and blew out a sigh. “Don't give me a hard time. I'm not having a great day, and as you know, I've got two bullets left. I might end up using them on one of us.”
“Do you need a ride home?”
“Yes.”
“I'm your man,” Ranger said.
Connie and Lula fanned themselves behind his back.
I climbed into the truck and looked around.
Ranger cut his eyes to me. “Are you looking for someone?”
“Abruzzi. He threatened me again.”
“Do you see him?”
“No.”
It's not a long drive from the office to my apartment building. A couple miles. Progress is slowed by lights and occasionally traffic, depending on the time of day. I would have liked the drive to be longer today. I felt safe from Abruzzi when I was with Ranger.
Ranger turned into my lot and parked. “There's a man in the SUV by the Dumpster,” Ranger said. “Do you know him?”
“No. He doesn't live in the building.”
“Let's talk to him.”
Ranger and I got out of the truck, walked to the SUV, and Ranger rapped on the driver's side window.
The driver rolled the window down. “Yeah?”
“Waiting for someone?”
“What's it to you?”
Ranger reached in, grabbed the guy by the front of his jacket, and pulled him halfway through the window.
“I'd like you to take a message to Eddie Abruzzi,” Ranger said. “Can you do that for me?”
The driver nodded.
Ranger released the driver and stepped back. “Tell Abruzzi he's lost the war, and he should move on.”
We both had guns drawn, and we kept them steady on the SUV until it was out of sight.
Ranger looked up at my window. “We're going to stand here for a minute to give the rest of the team time to get out of your apartment. I don't want to have to shoot anybody. I'm on a tight schedule today. I don't w
ant to get hung up filling out police forms.”
We waited five minutes and then went into the building and took the stairs. The second-floor hall was empty. The keypad reported that security had been breached on my apartment. Ranger went in first and walked through. The apartment was empty.
The phone rang just as Ranger was leaving. It was Eddie Abruzzi and he wasted no time with me. He asked for Ranger.
Ranger put him on the speakerphone.
“Stay out of this,” Abruzzi said. “This is a private matter between the girl and me.”
“Wrong. As of this moment, you're out of her life.”
“So you're choosing sides?”
“Yeah, I'm choosing sides.”
“You leave me no choice then,” Abruzzi said. “I suggest you look out the window, into the parking lot.” And he disconnected.
Ranger and I walked to the window and looked out. The SUV was back. It pulled up to Ranger's truck with the bug-eyed lights, the guy in the passenger side lobbed a package into the truck bed, and the truck was instantly engulfed in flames.
We stood there for a few minutes, watching the spectacle, listening to the sirens get closer.
“I liked that truck,” Ranger said.
BY THE TIME Morelli arrived it was after six and the remains of the truck were being hauled onto a flatbed. Ranger was finishing up police paperwork. He looked over at Morelli and gave him a nod of acknowledgment.
Morelli stood very close to me. “Do you want to tell me about this?” he asked.
“Off the record?”
“Off the record.”
“We had a tip that Evelyn was at Newark Airport. We drove to Newark and caught her before she boarded. After hearing her story I decided she needed to get on the plane, so I let her go. I had no reason to detain her anyway. I just wanted to know what this was about. When we got back, Abruzzi's men were waiting. There were some words, and they torched the truck.”
“I need to talk to Ranger,” Morelli said. “You're not going anywhere, are you?”
“If I could borrow your truck I'd get a pizza. I'm starved.”
Morelli gave me his keys and a twenty. “Get two. I'll call it in to Pino's for you.”
I pulled out of the lot and headed for the Burg. I turned at the hospital, and I checked my rearview mirror. I was being careful now. I was trying not to let my fear surface but it was boiling inside me. I kept telling myself it was only a matter of time before the police got something on Abruzzi. He was too flagrant. He was too wrapped up in his own craziness, playing the game. There were too many people involved. He'd killed the bear and Soder to keep them quiet, but there were others. He couldn't kill everyone.
I didn't see anyone turn with me, but that was no guarantee. If more than one car is used it's sometimes hard to spot a tail. Just to be safe, I had my gun out when I parked in the lot. I had just a short distance to go. Once I was inside I'd be okay. There were always a couple cops in Pino's. I swung down from the truck and started for the door to the bar. I took two steps and a green van appeared from nowhere. It glided to a stop, the window rolled down, and Valerie looked out at me, her mouth duct-taped shut, her eyes wild with fear. There were three other men in the van, including the driver. Two of them wore full rubber masks: Nixon and Clinton again. Plus there was a guy in a paper bag with two eyes torn out. I guess the budget only covered two rubber masks. The Bag held a gun to Valerie's head.
I didn't know what to do. I was frozen. Mentally and physically paralyzed.
“Drop the gun,” the Bag said. “And slowly walk to the van, or I swear to God, I'll kill your sister.”
The gun fell out of my hand. “Let her go.”
“After you get in.”
I reluctantly moved forward, and Nixon shoved me into the backseat. He duct-taped my mouth and wrapped tape around my hands. The van roared off, out of the Burg, across the river into Pennsylvania.
After ten minutes we were on a dirt road. Houses were small and sporadic, stuck into patches of woods. The van slowed and then stopped on the shoulder. The Bag opened the door and shoved Valerie out. I saw her hit the ground and roll, off the shoulder, into the brush at the side of the road. The Bag pulled the door shut and the van took off.
Minutes later the van turned into a driveway and stopped. We all got out and went into a small clapboard bungalow. It was pleasantly decorated. Not expensive stuff, but comfortable and clean. I was directed to a kitchen chair and told to sit. A short while after I took my place, a second car crunched on the dirt and gravel outside. The bungalow door opened, and Abruzzi walked in. He was the only man not in a mask.
He took a chair opposite me. We were close enough that our knees touched, and I could feel the heat from his body. He reached out and ripped the tape from my mouth.
“Where is she?” he asked me. “Where is Evelyn?”
“I don't know.”
He hit me with an openhanded slap to the face that caught me off guard and knocked me off my chair. I was in shock when I hit the floor, too stunned to cry, too frightened to protest. I tasted blood, and I blinked tears away.
The guy in the Clinton mask hauled me up by my armpits and set me back on the chair.
“I'm going to ask you again,” Abruzzi said. “I'm going to keep asking you until you tell me. Each time you don't answer I'm going to give you pain. Do you like pain?”
“I don't know where she is. You give me too much credit. I'm not that good at finding people.”
“Ah, but you're friends with Evelyn, aren't you? Her grandmother lives next door to your parents. You've known Evelyn all your life. I think you know where she is. And I think you know why I want to find her.” Abruzzi got up and went to the stove. He turned the gas on, got a poker from the fireplace, and held it into the flame. He tested the poker with a drop of water. The water sizzled and evaporated. “What first?” Abruzzi said. “Should we poke out an eye? Should we do something sexual?”
If I told Abruzzi Evelyn was in Miami, he'd go down there and find her. Probably he'd kill her and Annie. And probably he'd kill me, too, no matter what I said.
“Evelyn is on her way across the country,” I said. “She's driving.”
“That's the wrong answer,” Abruzzi said. “I know she boarded a plane for Miami. Unfortunately, Miami is a big place. I need to know where she's staying in Miami.”
The Bag held my hands on the tabletop, the guy in the Nixon mask cut my sleeve away, then held my head, and Abruzzi held the hot poker to my bare arm. Someone screamed. I guess it was me. And then I fainted. When I came around I was on the floor. My arm felt like fire, and the room smelled like pot roast cooking.
The Bag dragged me to my feet and set me on the chair again. The most horrifying part to all this was that I honestly didn't know where Evelyn was staying. No matter how much they tortured me, I couldn't tell them. They'd have to torture me until I was dead.
“Okay,” Abruzzi said. “One more time. Where is Evelyn ?”
There was the sound of a motor revving outside, and Abruzzi paused to listen. The guy in the Nixon mask went to the window, and suddenly lights blazed through the curtains, and the green van crashed through the picture window in the front of the house. There was a lot of dust and confusion. I was on my feet, not sure where to go, when I realized Valerie was driving the van. I wrenched the side door open, threw myself inside, and yelled at her to go. She put the van into reverse, backed out of the house at about forty miles per hour, and careened out of the driveway.
Valerie still had her mouth and hands duct-taped together, but it wasn't slowing her down. She barreled down the dirt road, hit the highway, and skidded onto the bridge approach. My fear now was that she'd dump us into the river if she didn't slow down. There were chunks of wallboard stuck to the windshield wipers, the windshield was cracked, and the front of the van was smashed.
I ripped the tape off Valerie's mouth, and she let out a howl. Her eyes were still wild, and her nose was running. Her clothes were torn and dirt
-smudged. I yelled at her to ease off the gas, and she started to cry.