From Manhattan With Revenge Boxed Set (7 page)

She
turned to leave and when she did, only one person bothered to speak to her.

“Good-bye,
Leana,” Count Luftwick said.
 
“You
always know how to make a dull group interesting.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Was any
of that necessary?” Mario asked as they moved down the corridor toward the Pool
Room.
 
“We only went to Europe.
 
We never went to Saint Petersburg or
Beijing.”

“I did
it for my mother.
 
It pisses me off
that they think they’re better than she is when their own lives are in the
toilet.
 
They’re hypocrites and they
deserved it.”

“Fair
enough,” he said.
 
“I guess.”

“Take
the countess, for instance,” she said.
 
“She’s known me for most of my life, yet every time I speak to her, it’s
as if we’ve met only once before and she can vaguely remember me.
 
That’s the difference between us.
 
Old money, new money.
 
They’d rather forget us, except when
they have to use us.”
 

She
waved to Addy as they spotted each other.
 
“He’s the exception.
 
If it
weren’t for Addy, we wouldn’t be here tonight.”

When she
walked over, the photographers immediately started taking her photograph.
 
Mario hung back and moved to the side to
allow her the limelight he felt she deserved.
 
Those people who were looking at Tootie
Staunton-Miller’s photo installation turned to see who was causing such a
commotion.
 
When they did, it was as
if the photographs of her grand home on Fifth Avenue no longer mattered.
 
Leana Redman hadn’t been seen in public
since she was shot by Louis Ryan.
 
Right now, she was the biggest celebrity in the room.
 

“That
dress,” Addy said as she came forward to hug him.
 
“I can literally feel the envy in the
room.”

“Is that
what it is?
 
I felt something
else.
 
Like daggers in my back.”

“You’re
terrible and I love you for it.”

“About
the dress,” she said.
 
“Tell me, is
everyone shielding their eyes because of it?
 
Are people falling into each other?
  
Tripping?
 
Walking into walls?
 
Spilling their drinks?
 
Have I finally succeeded in being too
much for one room to handle?”

They
held each other for a moment.
 
“I’d
love to tell you, Leana, but I can’t see a thing.
 
I think with that dress and those
cameras, you’re blinding everyone.
 
It’s like you’re a human disco ball.”

“So, my
plan worked.”

They
shared a laugh.

He took
her by the hands and stepped back to admire her.
 
“Seriously, you look incredible.
 
Better than ever.
 
I know you’re going to get hammered with
questions all evening, but I might be the only one who actually cares about the
answers, so allow me to ask how you are.”

They
kept smiling in spite of the weight of their conversation.
 
“It’s been a tough year, Addy.”

“Your
mother?”

“I think
she’s alright.
 
She’s a good
actress, which I think we all can agree upon by now, so it’s hard to tell.
 
I think she’s managing.”

“Give
her my love, will you?”

“When I
speak to her, of course.”

“Just
one more question and my worries will be lifted.
 
Are you alright physically?
 
The papers said the bullet came very
close to your spinal chord.”

“Just
three millimeters to the right and I’d be in a wheelchair, designed by Prada if
I could get them to do it.”

He
ignored the joke because he didn’t find it funny.
 
His only response was to shake his
head.
 
When he did, the
photographers noted the grim expression on his face and immediately captured
it.

“They’re
like leeches,” he said.
 

She
turned around and waved to them.
 
“They always have been.
 
Just
one last question, Addy.
 
Is my
father here?”

“I
haven’t seen him.”

“Did you
have the sense whether he planned to come?”

He put
his hand on her shoulder and stood next to her.
 
A ribbon of explosions shot through the
crowd of photographers, bathing each in staccato rhythms of light.
 
“I can never read your father,
Leana.
 
He’s one difficult man.
 
But I wouldn’t put it past him.”
 

Leana
was about to speak when an announcement was made that people should move to the
Pool Room.
 

Addy
looked at his watch and then searched the room for Tootie, who never was late
and was, in fact, now coming toward them.
 
“There’s Tootie,” he said.
 
“Just entering the room.
 
Jean-Georges will make his own entrance, because that’s what
Jean-Georges does.
 
Why don’t you
feed the press your presence while I grab a microphone?”

Leana
took a final step forward and turned in various directions as people called out
her name.
 
When she was finished,
she held up her hand and smiled to the press as people continued to enter the
room.
 
When she went back to Addy,
Tootie was there.
 

“Hellohowareyou?”
she said.
 

“Hello,
Tootie.”

She
looked with distaste at Leana’s dress.
 
“It’ll be interesting to see how that photographs.”

“Do you
think there’ll be a problem?”

“You
might look like fireworks in the morning, dear.
 
Just be prepared.
 
Anyway, I think it’s best if you and
Jean-Georges stand there, with your backs to that window so you’re facing the
press and the crowd.
 
Addy will
speak, I’ll offer a few solemn words on the woes of suicide and then
Jean-George will present you with the award.”
 

There
was a rush of applause as Jean-George entered the room.

“Go over
and give him a hug,” Tootie said.
 
“People love meaningless little hugs.
 
Smile, smile, smile.
 
That’s right.
 
Good.”

“You
look beautiful, Leana,” Jean-Georges said in her ear.

“That’s
good to hear.
 
I was just warned by
Tootie that in the papers tomorrow, I’ll look like fireworks.”

“Who
better than you?”

She was
surprised by his charm.
 
He was a
tallish man in his late fifties with a thick head of silver hair that
complemented his tan complexion.
 
“You were kind to step in for my father.”

“A
friend of mine committed suicide when I was young.
 
I’m happy to do it and I’m planning to
offer a donation of my own tonight.”

They
parted and Leana looked over at Mario, who was watching her.
 
Even from here, she could sense him
wanting to protect her.
 
She waved
at him from her waist.
 
He blew her
a kiss.

Addy was
coming at her with a microphone.
 
As
they passed each other, he winked.
 
“I know these events are awful,” he said.
 
“Give me five minutes.
 
It’ll be over with sooner than you
think.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

With
Jean-Georges Laurent in full view, Carmen and Alex felt more at ease to move
into a better position.
 

Only
moments ago, Carmen made a call to her most reliable and efficient contact in
Manhattan.
 
What she requested of
him would cost plenty, particularly given the speed with which he’d have to
work to pull this off, but she and Alex agreed it was the only way to go if
they were to create the kind of chaos they needed to create in an effort to
stay alive.
 

The
complications were clear.

Without
the help of Carmen’s contact, the moment Alex pulled a gun on Jean-Georges,
someone undoubtedly would see it and the place would be turned on its
side.
 
But with the help of the
distraction her contact was offering, which would take the focus off him and
place it elsewhere, that was a game changer.
 

While
fear reigned, Alex would be able to take out Jean-Georges and Leana Redman as
the shock of what had happened fully registered.
 
Then, he and Carmen would escape through
the corridor, running from the madness as if they themselves were threatened by
it.

Carmen
looked at the time on her watch while Addison Miller started to speak.
 
The award would be given out in
minutes.
 
Her contact promised he
could pull it off regardless of the short notice, just as she knew he could
because he generally had these sorts of emergency situations covered.
 
He said he’d call her moments before he
arrived.
 
They wouldn’t talk.
 
Her cell phone was set to vibrate.
 
He’d allow for one vibration before
coming through with what he promised.

She
watched Tootie Staunton-Miller take the microphone from her husband.
 
She allowed him to kiss her on the cheek
before she stepped in front of him.
 

“Who
among us hasn’t been touched by suicide?” she asked the crowd.
 
“Maybe a relative took his or her life,
a friend, an acquaintance.
 
In the
wake of this Wall Street disaster, which has robbed so many of our own in ways
that are unconscionable, I can’t imagine that somebody here doesn’t know
someone who has turned to a darker way out because of it.”

She
looked at Leana.
 
“When Harold
Baines took his life, Leana Redman felt the full weight of his grisly death and
decided to do something proactive about it.
 
She has gifted our organization fifty
million dollars, which will go for support and education at our satellite
organizations throughout the country.
 
It’s an incredibly kind, meaningful gesture and I hope all of you will
join Addy and me in recognizing the importance of stepping forward and doing
the right thing when you have the means to do so.
 
Leana Redman is one of those people and
I want to say publicly to her, thank you.
 
Thank you, Leana, for your gift of love, because I know that’s what it
was for you.
 
I can promise you that
your gift will help others.
 
What
you’ve done will touch people you’ll never know, people you’ll never meet, but
it will touch them.
 
It will change
their lives for the better.
 
They
will go forward because of you and for that, we all applaud you.”

And they
did.

Carmen
looked at Alex.
 
His hand was
resting inside his jacket and he was ready to take action when the time was
right.
 
They watched Tootie step
over to Jean-Georges and hand him the crystal award for philanthropy she and
Addy had formed years ago.
 
When he
took it, he seemed surprised by its weight, which generated a polite chuckle
from the crowd.
 
The award was tall
and solid and gleamed in the light of the snapping cameras and the orange light
filling the room.
 
He took the
microphone from Tootie just as Carmen’s cell phone buzzed in her hand.

The next
few minutes were a blur.

Carmen
placed her hand on Alex arm, giving him the signal.

Beneath
them on 53rd Street, at the entrance to the parking garage that was directly
below the Pool Room, a car packed with explosives rolled inside and the driver
ran out.
 

Exactly
only minute later, the car exploded just was Leana Redman was about to address
the room.
 
The explosion shook the
building with such force, it blew out the windows and hurled pieces of jagged
glass into the crowd, cutting them, including Leana, who fell to the ground
just as balls of fire rolled into the room.
 

Those
who were close enough to the far right windows, where the car was parked below,
were scorched by the fire.
 
People
shielded their faces and staggered back while others either screamed in fear or
because they were hurt.
 

Alex
looked at Laurent, whose own hair had caught fire.
 
He was spinning like a top near the
windows, his hands batting at his head and trying to put out the flames while
those around him did nothing so they could look out for themselves.
 
The sound he was making wasn’t
human.
 
It came from his gut but
somehow, on the way up, it managed to twist itself into a kind of girlish
shriek.
 

The
moment he stopped turning, Alex removed his gun and pointed it at the man’s
head.
 
Jean-George’s hair no longer
was on fire, but shock was setting in.
 
When Alex fired, the man’s face took the impact, but it was his head
that released the pressure.
 
It
exploded onto Leana and Tootie Staunton-Miller thanks to the hollow-point
bullet he used, which expanded when it hit bone.
 

It was
over in an instant, but in that instant, Laurent seemed to stagger, his arms
twitching at his sides while his ruined head let loose a torrent of blood that
fountained toward the ceiling.
 

When he
fell backward, dead, Leana Redman moved away from him and screamed.
 
Her face was awash with blood, bone and
brain matter.
 
Her silver dress was
spattered with gore.
 
The moment
Tootie Staunton-Miller touched her own face, she smeared the clotted glop that
covered it and fainted when she looked down at her hand.
 
She collapsed on top of Jean-Georges,
her face buried in what was left of his own.
 

A beat
of stunned silence passed before the press gathered themselves and started to
take photographs.
 
Smoke started to
fill the room from the broken windows.
 
The glow of the fire raged from below, making the room’s trees appear as
if they were writhing in the shadows cast by the flames.

Alex
lined Leana up in his sights but a man came beside her and led her away.
 
He fired, but missed when Carmen slammed
into him thanks to the people shoving and pushing in an effort to escape
through the packed corridor.

“We need
to get out of here,” Carmen said.
 
“Now.”

“Do you
want her dead or not?”

The
car’s gas tank exploded and more windows blew into the room.
 
Alex was knocked off balance again just
as the room gave itself over to the pure panic of pandemonium.

The
place was starting to fill with smoke.
 
People were shouting, screaming, gagging.
 
Carmen looked up at the ceiling and saw
the smoke roll above her head and spread into the room.
 

Security
was talking into their cuffs while an avalanche of people raced to the Pool Room’s
exits.
 
Some fled into the
kitchen.
 
Others pushed into the
corridor.
 

Alex
looked for Leana and could see her moving toward the exit at the top of the
staircase.
 
She was one with the
crowd, her head lowered, her dress the giveaway.
 
He could get her.
 
He knew he could.
 
He shrugged off Carmen’s arm just as the
masses reached the emergency exit up the stairs, the door to which wouldn’t
open because it was bolted shut.
 
Men started to throw their shoulders against it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Come
with me,” she said to Alex.
 
“If
nothing else kills us, it’ll be the smoke.
 
There’s still time.”

But
before she could say anything more, Alex started to fight his way through the
crush of people now coming his way.
 
He still could see her.
 
That
dress belonged to no one else but her.
 
His gun was concealed.
 
He
was just another person scrambling to get out.

Behind
him there was another explosion, this one greater than the last, and it shook
people to their knees while the smoke above them set off the sprinkler
system.
 
There was a series of pops
as the sprinklers sprang into action and began to douse the room in ways that
would make the floors so slick, escape would prove even more difficult.

“Alex!”
Carmen shouted.

But he
was gone.