Even (32 page)

“I don’t agree,” she said, out of the blue. “What you’re proposing, it’ll take too long. It’s turning into a circus. We should hit the New York clinic now. This afternoon. There’s no time to delay.”

“We can’t do that,” Varley said. “We need confirmation that no other agencies are already into this. They could have people in there, undercover. Then we need surveillance. As of now, we have no idea what we’d be walking into. Or whether the big fish are even there. And we need foolproof cooperation from the other cities. It’s no good taking one crew down and letting four more walk away.”

“And something else,” Weston said. “The other end. Iraq. We need someone to sweep that mess up.”

“What a jurisdictional nightmare that’ll be,” Lavine said.

“I’m not a fool,” Tanya said. “I understand the big picture. But while you’re worrying about ‘what if this’ and ‘what if that’ the people we really want will be long gone. David proved that. Look how Taylor reacted.”

“We don’t know who’s involved,” Varley said. “We don’t know how many there are. We don’t have names or faces. And you’ve picked out targets?”

“Yes,” Tanya said. “The people who ordered the five murders. They’re the ones that count. Lives are worth more than money, however much we’re talking about.”

“Agreed,” Varley said. “And we’re going to take them. Because I know what you’re thinking. They’re to blame for your friend’s death. Well, the way I see it, they’re to blame for Mike Raab’s death, as well. Lesley’s guy pulled the trigger, but Mike’s path only crossed because
Tungsten was dropping bodies everywhere. These guys, they’re top of the list. We’ll get them. Have faith.”

“Those are just words,” Tanya said. “I want action. We’re not going to get anyone, sitting here. I want us to do something, now.”

She was starting to sound alarmingly like me.

“OK,” Varley said. “What?”

“We know they’re at the clinic,” Tanya said. “A few streets away. Taylor told David. So we find another reason. Tax evasion. Operating without a medical license. Immigration issues. Anything. Then throw a net over the others later, when you’re ready.”

“No,” Varley said. “And don’t obsess over
later
. We’re not talking days. As soon as we’re done here, we’ll get onto INS. Kyle will get the tech crews rolling. I’ll liaise with the other cities, personally. I’ll talk to the overseas guys, as well. Then, when we know the who and the where, we’ll move. It’ll be tomorrow morning, at the latest.”

“What if Taylor warns them before tomorrow?” Tanya said.

“We’ll up the watch on the airports,” Lavine said. “All flights in and out of that region.”

“And Taylor can’t warn anyone,” Varley said. “He’s in jail. They’re holding him in solitary.”

“What if he already did?” Tanya said. “David left him alone in the apartment. He could have phoned before you picked him up.”

“The phone was broken,” I said.

“How do you know?” Tanya said. “Did you check?”

“No. I broke it,” I said.

“What about their cell phones?” Tanya said.

“They lost their cell phones,” I said.

“All three of them?” Tanya said. “Doesn’t seem likely.”

I reached into my pocket and laid the three phones on the table.

“What if his disappearance spooks them?” Tanya said.

“Tanya, I know you’re frustrated,” I said. “And no one cuts more corners than me. But this is not the time. The organ smuggling, the hit on Simon, finding Mansell, they’re part of the same thing. We’ve led the horse to water. Now leave it. It’s up to these guys to make it drink.”

_______

Varley took Weston and Lavine downstairs to hit the phones, leaving me to keep an eye on Tanya. He didn’t trust her to stay away from the clinic until we reconvened at 5:00
P.M.
The conversation left me wrong-footed. One minute he was shooting me daggers, the next swearing me in like I was his deputy. All I needed was a tin badge. It was a strange role to give me. And not one I was interested in playing.

I went across to the window and watched the city drift by for a couple of minutes. Looking down through the glass made the streets seem remote, like a museum exhibit. Which reminded me of something. I turned and headed for the door. Tanya came with me. She stayed close all the way down in the elevator and through the garage, but she didn’t open her mouth until we’d climbed the ramp and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“What next?” she said.

“Don’t know,” I said. “Should we walk? Or take a cab?”

“To the clinic?”

“No. To the Museum of Modern Art.”

“Why there?”

“I heard they’ve got a helicopter in one of the displays.”

“What do you want with a helicopter?”

“Nothing. But in an art gallery? It sounds interesting. And we’ve got to do something till five o’clock.”

“We’re not going to the clinic?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no point. The only reason would be to find out what’s happening and work out if it’s a problem. But we know what’s going on already. We’re in a different phase now. It’s time to pass the baton.”

“Not good enough, David. We need to at least go and look.”

“No. Why?”

“They’ll be getting ready to run. If we lose them now, we’ll never find Mansell.”

“No. It’s more likely we’d just spook them.”

“We don’t have to go in. We could just drive by. Find something to convince Varley.”

“No. We’re not going anywhere near that place. Neither of us. Have you got that?”

Tanya didn’t reply.

“Is that clear?” I said. “The risk is not justified.”

“Risk?” she said. “Listen to you. Since when have you worried about risk? When we went to Tungsten’s place? Rooted round their office? Stole their mail?”

“That wasn’t a risk. That was a tactic.”

“When you made me meet Hamad, then? Got into a knife fight with him? Or when you went to see Taylor and his thugs? No. But now Varley wants to take the reins and you think there’s a chance to sneak back home . . .”

“Tanya, your judgment’s impaired. Your head’s still stuck in Morocco. The answer is no. We stay away from the clinic.”

“This has nothing to do with Morocco.”

“Your obsession with finding James Mansell, then.”

“It’s not an obsession. . . . David, wait. See those two men? They’re the ones who were watching me this morning.”

“Which ones?”

“Black car, four bays down on my right. Reading newspapers.”

I saw it. A black Cadillac Deville with no license plate at the front.

“Sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

“OK. Let’s see if they’re happy with just watching. This is what I want you to do. Lean over and kiss me on the cheek. Softly, like we’re friends saying good-bye. Then I’ll head into the garage. You take a couple of steps—no more than two—and take out your phone. But don’t hold it to your ear. Keep it low, like you’re texting. Ready?”

“I guess . . .”

Nothing happened for twenty seconds after I moved out of sight. Then a car door slammed. I heard an engine start. A man came into
view, walking fast. He was a fraction over six feet tall, slim, in his early twenties with short dark hair, black leather bomber jacket, and mid-blue jeans. He was heading for Tanya. He sneaked right up behind her, hesitated for a moment, then grabbed her. He locked his arms around her waist. She started to struggle. The Cadillac appeared. It pulled in next to them, snaking across to our side of the street. Its trunk lid was already swinging open. The guy on the sidewalk started to wrestle Tanya toward it, lifting her half off her feet.

The driver rolled down his window and gestured impatiently. He looked jumpy and inexperienced. I didn’t want him escaping while I was still disentangling Tanya so I stepped up to the car and punched him hard, just to the side of his ear. He went over sideways, sprawling across the front seats and revealing a small black Colt .38 that had been wedged under his left thigh. I paused to check he wasn’t moving. Then I heard a voice behind me.

“Hold it.” A man’s voice. He sounded nervous. “Don’t turn around.”

I turned around. The other guy had moved back, out of reach, almost pressing into the little booth at the top of the ramp. He still had one arm around Tanya’s waist. A black .38 was grasped in his free hand. Another Colt. It matched the driver’s. Only this one was pressed against Tanya’s right temple.

“On the ground,” he said. “Or she’s dead meat.”

I reached down behind me, through the car window, using my body to hide the movement. My hand found the waistband of the driver’s jeans. I traced my way down his leg until my fingers brushed against metal. I felt for the textured surface of the handgrip, took hold, and smoothly withdrew my arm. The safety was on the top left of the frame, at the rear. I held my hand out so the guy could watch me flick it down. Then I pointed the gun straight at his face.

“This is what’s going to happen,” I said. “I’m going to shoot you in the mouth. Twice. The first round will sever your spinal cord, just where it joins your brain. That way, no nerve signals can reach your trigger finger. The second is just for insurance. Then I’m getting lunch.”

“I don’t think so,” the guy said. “I’m going to blow her brains out.”

“What do you fancy, Tanya?” I said. “I feel like a big sandwich. Pastrami and Swiss, maybe. I had a great one the other day. Are there any good delis around here?”

“It won’t work, the mouth thing,” the guy said. “Shoot me, and she dies.”

“Shut up,” I said. “I don’t know who you are, but I do this for living. And in three seconds’ time, you’re going to lose the back of your skull. Unless you put your gun down. One . . .”

The guy didn’t move.

“Two . . .”

His hand started to shake.

“Normally I don’t bother with three,” I said. “I just pull the trigger on two. But I’ve got a feeling about you. I don’t think you came to kill anyone. So put the gun down. There’s still time to straighten this out.”

He didn’t react for fully five seconds. Tanya closed her eyes. She didn’t breathe. Then the guy started to sag. He lowered his right hand. The gun slipped from his grip. It hit his foot and clattered six inches across the sidewalk. He dropped down onto his knees. For a moment I thought he was trying to retrieve his weapon, but he’d just lost his balance. He fell forward again, landing on all fours. And then he puked. Three long gut-wrenching torrents, flooding the ground in front of him and spattering up his sleeves.

Tanya turned to me, holding her hands out like a shield against the stinking puddle. She looked half shocked, half disgusted. Finally she opened her mouth, but before she could speak her phone began to ring.

“It’s Lavine,” she said, holding the handset away from her mouth. “He’s got a lead on Mansell. The NYPD have picked him up. Or someone that might be him. They want us to go and see. They’re still bogged down prepping for the clinics.”

“Excellent,” I said. “Maybe this has a happy ending, after all. But tell him to send someone to sit on these guys till we get back.”

“David, let’s not waste time. You’re not going to make a big deal out of this, are you? I mean, no harm’s been done. They’re only kids. Couldn’t we just let it slide? Or leave it to the police?”

“Why? Do you recognize them?”

“No.”

“Have you had a row with anyone lately? Someone in your building?”

“No. I only moved in a couple of days ago.”

“At the consulate?”

“Of course not.”

“What about work? Anything that could come back and haunt you?”

“No. Nothing. I haven’t been here long enough. I’ve had no problems at all. Until you turned up.”

“Then, no. We can’t let it slide. They were stalking you. They tried to snatch you off the street. And they know where you live. Where you work. That’s not something you turn a blind eye to. Ever.”

“OK. I guess you’re right. I’ll tell Lavine to send some people.”

“Good. And Tanya—tell him they’ll need a sponge. I’m not spending time with this guy till he’s been cleaned.”

I don’t remember a great deal about my grandfather.

He died when I was too young. I’ve seen photos of him, and heard stories from relatives. But I never got a sense of what he was really like until a couple of years ago when his few remaining possessions found their way through to me, sealed up for years in his old army trunk.

It turned out the old man had been fascinated by the
Titanic
. He’d built up a whole hoard of books and articles and clippings about it. Accounts of how it was built, in Belfast, near where he was born. The night it sank. The conspiracy theories. The expeditions to find the wreck. Biographies of the survivors. Histories of its sister ships. I read every word. But it wasn’t the technical details that struck a chord with me. It was how that final night must have felt for the passengers. One minute, their ship was indestructible. An unsinkable engineering marvel. The next it was a metal coffin on the way to the ocean floor. Their world was turned on its head. In an instant. With no warning.

I’ve had that feeling, myself. On more than one occasion.

And, as with icebergs, you never know when it’s going to strike.

The trip to pick up James Mansell was a complete waste of time. The NYPD’s “ninety percent match” turned out to be a sad, confused drunk
with an English accent. He’d been spotted dancing naked in the turtle pond in Central Park. The police had fished him out, dried him off, covered him up, and taken him to their station house. That part was easy enough. Getting an ID was another story. They were going nowhere until Lavine’s bulletin came through. Then they saw the chance to palm him off on the bureau. Which seemed like a good idea, until we got there. When Tanya realized what they were trying to pull I was lucky to get her out without any blood being spilled.

The dead end at the police station set the tone for the rest of the afternoon. Tanya was too disappointed to speak much on the way back to the FBI building. She preferred to sit and stare silently at the traffic. Every street we tried was completely choked with it. There was no obvious reason why. There was no construction work. No accidents. It was as though the other vehicles had come out specifically to get in our way. There were so many we only just made it back by five o’clock. And just as we were jumping out of the car, Lavine phoned. They weren’t ready. Coordinating with the other cities was taking longer than expected. He wanted to postpone the meeting till 8:00
A.M.
tomorrow. Which I didn’t mind, in itself. It would give us a chance to interrogate Tanya’s stalkers. Only Tanya chose that moment to remember some critical task she had to complete at the consulate. Something so important there was no way she could leave it till the morning. The only upside was a clear shot at dinner. A good chance to cheer us both up.