Page 28 of Flawless


  * * *

  Craig turned on the Bluetooth as he drove and didn’t care that Kieran was listening to him as he called Detective Mayo, who was still at the scene. Mayo told him that he still had cops watching over Finnegan’s—two men undercover and two in uniform.

  Craig thanked him, then called Eagan and brought him up to speed on what he was doing.

  “Just so you know, we sent Jimmy back to the hospital,” Eagan told him. “I’ve got a man watching him. I think they’re going to check him in for the night. He started getting a splitting headache. Possible concussion from the gunshot.”

  “Did you find the bullet or the casing? What was he shot with?” Craig asked.

  “They didn’t find either one at the scene. The shooter must have taken them while he was mugging Jimmy and robbing him blind.”

  Craig reached Finnegan’s and parked directly in front. “Get out on my side,” he said quietly to Kieran. “And stay in front of me.”

  She nodded, and moments later they entered the pub together.

  Music was playing through the speakers, the bar stools were full and so were most of the nearby tables. Some of the customers looked familiar, but there was no one he really knew.

  He saw the two cops in uniform at a table near the door, and a couple he pegged immediately as the undercover cops sat drinking coffee at another.

  He turned and kept his eyes on Kieran as she left him to join Declan at the bar.

  “Kieran. What are you doing here?” he asked his sister.

  Maybe Declan could talk sense into her.

  Or, knowing Kieran, maybe not.

  “I’m here to be with my family, and that’s that,” she said firmly.

  Declan looked up as Craig approached. “Damn, she reminds me of my grandmother sometimes. Sweet little thing with blue eyes and rosy cheeks—and stronger than steel. Hell on wheels once she got something into her head.”

  Obviously there was going to be no help from Declan.

  “Danny and Kevin here?” Craig asked.

  Declan nodded, indicating the floor. “Debbie’s off, and Mary Kathleen is staying with Bobby, giving Julie a break.” He looked at Craig. “I hear Jimmy McManus was attacked.”

  Craig realized Declan hadn’t heard yet about the dead man in front of his sister’s office, so he filled him in on that, too.

  Declan stared at his sister. “What on earth are you doing here? You should be sleeping in a locked room at FBI headquarters!”

  “Declan, they’re killing their own. They’re scared. Whoever’s the head of this thing is covering their tracks so they can take the money and run,” Kieran said.

  And that was a possibility, Craig had to admit.

  They might never find Sylvia Mannerly or even identify the fourth killer.

  No, he promised himself. He would be damned before he saw it go down that way.

  Marty came up behind him just then. “I’m here,” he announced. “I’ll be here until the bitter end.”

  “Nice way to put it,” Declan murmured.

  Craig turned to Kieran. “I will be back. Don’t even think about leaving until I get here. That goes for all of you,” he said to Declan.

  Declan nodded. “Whatever you say.”

  Craig wanted to take Kieran in his arms, but he couldn’t, not with things the way they were. Most of all, he just wanted to stay wherever she was and watch over her himself, but he couldn’t do that, either.

  He didn’t touch her and hardly looked at her, just nodded at the three of them, turned and left.

  He drove to the offices of Clean Cut Office Services.

  Mike was supervising a half dozen officers as they went through the place.

  “Anything?” Craig asked him.

  “It looks like our Ms. Mannerly was very careful. Everything of hers—everything personal—has been removed. The way I figure it, she was setting up her thieves with her employees—young, innocent girls, many of them recent immigrants—and getting her employees jobs at the places she intended to hit. You know the address that Kieran found on the table at the pub?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “That store was on a list of new clients. I think it would have been hit soon, but maybe the thieves must have gotten wind that the cops were watching the place, or maybe it just wasn’t next on the list. I think Mannerly was smart. She knew the FBI was investigating, so she tried to keep ears and eyes on us.”

  “Maybe Kieran saved another life,” Craig said.

  “I heard about the dead man in front of Kieran’s office.”

  “Throat slit,” Craig said. “They’ve got an APB out on the car.” He shook his head. “Ice-cold, huh? A guy dies trying to keep Bailey Headley from describing Miss Mannerly, who just disappears nice as can be, and suddenly the guy’s buddy is murdered, too. Nice functional work family, huh? Who killed him, do you think? The unknown fourth killer or our Ms. Mannerly—who definitely isn’t Ms. Mannerly, by the way. Eagan called me on my way over. She was using a social security number belonging to a woman who died in 1980.”

  “Figures.”

  “We’re trying to find out who she really is,” Craig said.

  Mike nodded.

  “Anyone search her apartment yet?” Craig asked.

  “We would—if we knew where it was,” Mike told him.

  “She must have an address listed.”

  “She does,” Mike said, and smiled grimly. “It’s in the middle of the Hudson River.”

  Craig swore in frustration. Mike had this covered. Mayo was on the most recent body, which was on the way to the morgue. He wasn’t needed here or there.

  Mike must have read his mind. “Go,” he said. “I’ll let you know if anything new turns up. Where are you headed?”

  “The street,” Craig told him. “I want to find a bullet.”

  As he drove, he called the office to get the exact location where Jimmy had been assaulted. It turned out to be very near to where Bobby had been found.

  Very near Finnegan’s.

  Craig headed to the address. The bullet had winged Jimmy McManus on the left-hand side of the head.

  Craig worked all possible trajectories and searched the buildings one by one, running his hands over stone and concrete, paint and graffiti.

  He couldn’t find the bullet.

  Eventually he gave up and decided to head back to Finnegan’s.

  But not until he made a stop at home.

  At his place, he changed. He was all set to leave when Eagan called.

  “May mean nothing,” Eagan said once he’d finished talking.

  Or it could mean something big.

  In fact, Craig was pretty sure it did.

  Glad that he had decided to change, Craig left hurriedly and headed to Finnegan’s, careful to park his car well down the block.

  * * *

  The night seemed especially long, even for a Tuesday.

  At ten o’clock Declan ordered his younger brothers and Kieran to go home.

  Kieran, of course, refused. She was waiting for Craig.

  Danny and Kevin argued, but they finally agreed, promising that they would stay together, go straight to Declan’s place and phone when they arrived, which they did not long after they left.

  Danny would return with Declan in the morning, while Kevin had another acting job for the dating service.

  Declan shook his head at his sister. “You should have stayed home, all locked in, too.”

  “No, I would have imploded, worrying about all of you. And now I’m not going anywhere until Craig shows up.”

  “Well, we’re going to close early. We’ll lock up and wait for him.”

  He announced that they were going to close by midnight. The only people
left in the place were a few regulars and the cops, so no one objected when the last call went out.

  Kieran saw the couple she’d pegged as plainclothes cops stop to speak to the uniformed officers, and then they left.

  The two in uniform stayed. “We’re here to keep an eye on you all night,” one of them assured Kieran.

  “I’m waiting for Agent Frasier to get back,” she told him.

  “Then we’ll wait until he does,” the second officer said.

  Kieran had walked their last customer to the door and was ready to lock it when someone came running toward the door from the street, calling her name.

  “Kieran, wait!”

  It was Gary Benton. He looked like hell, as if he’d been in a fight.

  As if he’d been crying.

  She backed away, so surprised by his appearance that she didn’t think to protest.

  “Gary, what the hell? We closed early tonight.”

  One of the cops came forward. “If you need us to—”

  “No, no,” Gary said. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Kieran, please, I have to talk to you. About Julie.”

  Declan had come forward by then, along with Marty.

  She lifted a hand. “It’s all right. Give me a minute. I’ll talk to Gary in the office.”

  “Wait,” one of the cops said.

  “Wait?” Gary murmured. He looked at them and lifted his arms. “Frisk me, if you think I have a weapon.”

  The cop took him at his word, then nodded at Kieran. “He’s clean.”

  Gary followed her as she led the way to the office, Declan following close behind. The cops and Marty waited at the bar, ready to leave whenever she was.

  “Care if I fool around behind the bar?” she heard Marty ask as they walked down the hall toward the office. “I did some bartending in college.”

  “Go for it, Marty,” Declan said. “Knock yourself out.” Then he joined her and Gary in the office.

  “What the hell is it, Gary?” Kieran demanded, closing the office door behind them. “Because if you’re in on these thefts, I’ll strangle you myself.”

  “I’m not, I swear,” Gary said desperately. “But I think I know who is. Those guys who were in here with Jimmy.”

  “We know that already,” she said, her tone cold and hard.

  “They’re working with someone. They talked about their investor when Jimmy and I met with them. They wanted to know all about where I was working. I think...I think they were watching all of you...maybe afraid you saw something, heard something, when you were waiting on people. And then after you helped catch those thieves, they seemed to be watching you in particular. I didn’t think that much of it at first. I mean, guys watch you all the time. Then—then there was the subway thing. Kind of fishy, I thought. But then tonight I got a call. It was a raspy voice. I don’t know if it was a man or a woman. And they seemed to think that I knew something, too! They said they had Julie, and that they’d kill her if they couldn’t talk to you.”

  “Kieran isn’t talking to anyone,” Declan said.

  “They’re going to kill Julie!” Gary said.

  “Like you care,” Kieran said. She was terrified for Julie, but she knew, too, that if she went anywhere near whoever had made that call, she would be dead herself.

  “Yes, I care, damn you!” Gary said. “Yes, I was a bastard! She’s hugely successful in her career, everyone loves her—and she loves those damned dogs. Yeah, I thought I wanted something else, some excitement, someone who was into me. But I was married to her, and whether you believe me or not, I still love her. Kieran, I’m scared. I was on my way here to talk to you when someone in a mask and a frigging cape caught up to me just outside my building. Slammed me against the wall and put a knife to my throat. Told me they had Julie, and that if anyone ever wanted to see her again, I had to get you to meet up with them.”

  “Where? When?” Kieran asked.

  “They’re going to call. They told me to get here, to find you and then they’d call.”

  They suddenly heard a loud crash from behind the bar.

  “I knew that guy wasn’t a bartender,” Declan muttered. “Stay here,” he told Gary and Kieran. Then he met his sister’s eyes. “And don’t you do anything—anything—until I’m back.”

  As soon as Declan was gone, closing the door behind him, Gary lunged across the desk.

  He was reaching for Declan’s letter opener.

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  CRAIG SAT ON THE sidewalk just down the street from Finnegan’s, an empty cup from a fast-food restaurant at his side.

  He had a ukulele with him that he’d gotten as a gift when working a case in Hawaii seven years ago. He couldn’t play it, of course. He only knew the practice notes that came out “my dog has fleas,” the way he’d been taught to play.

  He wasn’t sure if he was flattered or insulted that a fair amount of change, and even a few dollar bills, had been tossed into his cup.

  He continued to strum the ukulele, singing ridiculous songs and pretending to be very drunk.

  And watching.

  Always watching.

  He watched as Declan started to close the place and the customers left, and he nearly jumped to his feet when Gary went rushing past him.

  But he saw the cops at the door and forced himself to wait, still watching.

  Gary hadn’t been there five minutes before a couple walked by him, their faces hidden, the man’s by a hat pulled low over his eyes, the woman’s by her hooded cape.

  They went straight to the door of Finnegan’s, which he knew was locked at that point, but then the man took something out of his pocket.

  A key?

  Who the hell had a key to Finnegan’s except for a Finnegan?

  Craig leaped to his feet, but the couple was already inside. And the second they were in, he heard a sound he knew all too well: gunfire. Muted by a silencer.

  Craig raced inside, trying to assess the situation. The couple, both of whom were carrying guns, had taken everyone by surprise. He still couldn’t make out their faces, but he was sure he knew who they were.

  The gunmen were ordering the cops and Marty to lower their guns. Just as they started to comply, Declan came hurrying out from the back office, and both guns swung in his direction.

  Craig started to talk, slurring his words as if he were drunk. “Hey, what is this place? A pub or a movie set? Hey, lady, you look like that actress—what the hell was her name? Betty Grable? No, no... Clark Gable? Hell, no, he was a man.”

  He succeeded in confusing them, if only for a moment, and that would have to be enough.

  “Shoot the damned drunk,” the man snapped.

  Jimmy McManus. Jimmy, who had shot himself for effect, then dismissed his bodyguard and left the hospital without being discharged.

  Craig poured on the speed and crashed into the woman, taking her totally unaware. They crash-landed in a pile right in front of the bar. Her gun went flying beneath a stool.

  One down, one to go.

  A shot was fired, but Craig realized with relief that it went straight into the air.

  “Someone get that stupid drunk out of the way!” Jimmy ordered. His voice was different from his usual friendly tone, cold as ice. “Now—or I start killing people. I want Kieran. I want her out here now.”

  “McManus, you can shoot everyone in here, but I will not let you kill my sister,” Declan announced.

  “You can’t kill all of us,” Marty said boldly.

  Another shot rang out, and Marty screamed as blood oozed from his shoulder.

  “I’m a crack shot, and yes, I can kill all of you,” McManus said. “Now drag the drunk back there with the rest of you and get Kieran Finnegan out here.”

  * * *


  “Gary, you bastard,” Kieran snapped, slapping her hand down on the letter opener before Gary could reach it. “You bloody bastard.”

  He looked at her, tears streaming down his face. “I wasn’t going to use it on you. I was going to use it on myself.”

  Looking into his eyes, she believed him.

  But before she had a chance to tell him to stop being a drama queen, she heard shouting and then...gunfire? Adrenaline raced through her as she realized someone was shooting up the bar!

  She hurried out to see what was going on and froze.

  It was like something out of The Godfather crossed with the Three Stooges. A man in a fedora was standing there with a gun trained on Marty and the cops. Then he looked straight at her and she gasped.

  Jimmy McManus.

  Meanwhile Declan was trying to help some drunk off a woman in a cape.

  None of which mattered because Jimmy was staring at her with hatred, and his gun was aimed at her heart.

  “Kieran, precious Kieran, pride of the entire Finnegan family—and the stupid bitch who ruined everything,” he said.

  “Jimmy, you piece of dirt. I don’t know how I ruined everything for you, but I’m glad I did.”

  “My gun,” the woman on the floor muttered. “Where’s my gun?”

  Jimmy didn’t even seem to hear her. He was completely focused on Kieran. “You knew...you heard things—you fucked everything up.”

  “I wish I had heard things. Then you could have ended up behind bars sooner,” she told him.

  “The other guys would have been caught and blamed—even with their ridiculous squirt guns—but no. Who the hell wouldn’t think that they killed sometimes and not others, once they were caught red-handed? You went to the damned holdup. On purpose. You heard them talking—you went there to stop it and you did. You’re a little snoop, eavesdropping in here all the time. And you think you’re a superhero! Any decent person, well...no. Some people know that there are consequences for their actions!”

  * * *

  The scene had become actively surreal, Craig thought, but he was finally beginning to grasp the truth, or at least what passed for truth in the deluded mind of Jimmy McManus.

  McManus had somehow decided that Kieran, not the FBI, had stopped the robbery.