“You didn’t dream it. I have her.”
Kieran’s smile almost split his face in half. “Where?”
“Halladay’s.”
“You had any fun with her?”
“Jesus, no. I’ve been keeping her on the drip like the others.”
“What are you going to do with her?”
“Make a small fortune.”
“Not until I pay her back for what she did to me. Take me down there, man. Take her off the drip. Let me play with her till you need her.”
“Can’t right now,” Sean said. “I got things to arrange. I’ve had a guy in Framingham pleading for a kidney for months. He has multi-fucking-millions he’s not going to live long enough to spend. And Blondie, it turns out, is a good enough match. Not out-of-the-park good but good. Plus she’s healthy as a racehorse. I’m going to squeeze him for a million, Kieran. Of which I have to spend nothing, because the surgical team will be there anyway. Between that and what McConnell is paying, it’s gonna be my best night ever.”
He poured them more coffee, leaving room for a splash of Jameson from a bottle in a sideboard locked with a key placed too high for Michael to reach. “This is why I’m out of drugs and why I’ll never go back. Leave it to the fucking crazies down in their jungle. You see any crazies involved in this operation? Anyone I have to battle block by block for the right to live and work? No.”
“What about the bitch’s partner?”
“The detective?”
“Yeah. He’s a wild card. Still out there.”
“Not for long.”
“He coming tonight?”
“He thinks he is.”
“Gonna rescue the golden girl, huh? Him and his friend?”
“No. I’m gonna get him first.”
“Put me in a car with a shotgun in my lap,” Kieran said. “I owe that guy, too, for my leg. And I can see if I close one eye like this.” He tilted his head down toward his left shoulder and squinted.
Like Sean was going to let him anywhere near a gun. Playing with the girl was one thing, he’d earned that. But give him a gun, he’d shoot the back off someone’s head while fumbling for a crutch. “We got it covered,” he said.
“When can I see the girl then?”
“Soon.”
“Can I borrow a knife?” He looked at the wooden knife holder, the one with the stone inside that sharpened each blade as it was pushed in and pulled out.
“What’d I just tell you? Those kidneys are worth a ton. You want to slap her around, fine. You want to fuck her, that’s fine too. But no knives.”
“I meant later, when you’re ready.”
“Much later,” Sean said. “ ’Cause I got to tell you, you look ripped out of your mind right now.”
“I’m fine.”
“Can I ask what exactly you’re on?”
“I don’t know, man, I just grabbed some pills from the nightstand where I found the crutches. They’re good, too. Feel like Tylenol fucking Twelves.”
“Why don’t you lie down awhile in the guest room there. Take the weight off your leg. Let me make the calls I have to make. You need ice or anything?”
“Fuck the ice. When will you take me to Halladay’s?”
“When I’m done my business. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time with her. It’s a long operation.”
“Freddie handling her drip?”
“Yeah.”
“Fucking little creep. Promise you’ll call him when we’re leaving,” Kieran said. “Tell him to take her off. I want her ready and waiting when we get there.”
“Don’t worry,” Sean said. “Propofol is a tidy drug, Freddie says. Once you cut the supply, they wake up pretty fast. Clear-headed too.”
“A few minutes with me,” Kieran said, “she’ll be wishing she was back asleep.”
CHAPTER 35
We had arranged to meet Frank and Victor in the lobby of a hotel called the Dorchester in South Boston. They had a coffee shop there Frank liked. We were a few blocks away when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I had missed a call that had gone to voice mail. It was David’s father.
His first word was, “Jonah,” and that was as far as he got before he had to clear his throat. “This is Ron Fine calling on Monday. Jonah, Mike Gianelli just called. He said David was found yesterday on a beach somewhere outside the city. Somebody shot him. Killed him. Gianelli said he can’t get in touch with you. That you had checked out of your hotel. Please tell me you’re still working on this. Call Gianelli. Maybe he’d tell you things as a fellow professional he didn’t want to tell me.”
Oh, yeah. I was a real professional. Leading David’s killer right to him. Hiding behind his corpse as more bullets tore into it.
“I’m getting on the first flight down there,” he said. “To see about claiming the body. Gianelli said there might have to be an autopsy, but you know for an Orthodox family, that’s not acceptable.” He paused to clear his throat again and said, “I’ll try you again when I know my flight. Maybe you’ll pick me up at Logan? To be honest, I don’t know if I’m up to driving around. I was hoping Micah might come with me but I can’t find him either … Please call me as soon as you can. Tell me what you’re doing. Where you’re staying. Whether they’ll catch the people who … who did this …”
And then his voice trailed off and he hung up.
I closed the phone just as we got to the hotel.
“Jonah,” Ryan said.
“What?”
“Before we meet Frank and Victor, you might want to wipe your eyes.”
We settled in a corner where two small sofas faced each other across a round glass coffee table. We passed the camera to them, allowing them to scroll through the images without comment from us. When Frank got to one frame, he elbowed Victor, who looked in closer and grinned.
“The smoker?” I asked.
“Yeah. Too bad we didn’t get a sniper’s gun too,” Frank said. “Could drop that guy with no more sound than a twig snapping.”
“A silenced pistol up close will do it,” Ryan said.
“If we can get close. Do you know how the team arrives?” Frank asked. “How many different cars? How many different times the gate will open?”
“That’s in Stayner’s notes.” I flipped through the sheets he had filled out. “Right here. The anesthesiologist will arrive first, around eight-thirty, because his set-up takes the longest. Then the operating nurse and scrub nurse usually arrive together in one car, about nine. The assistant surgeon comes in his own car because he lives in Newton, also around nine-thirty. Dr. Stayner himself, not much before ten. He likes the patient out when he arrives so there’s no danger of him being recognized by someone in his social circle.”
“Four possible opportunities to slip in,” Ryan said. “One man each time they open the gate out front.”
“Five,” I said. “The McConnells are coming too.”
“So we jog in behind the cars?” Victor said. “Get done up in blackface and blend into the night?”
“We might be able to slip through the hoarding somewhere,” Ryan said. “Pick our spots based on the camera placements we’ve seen.”
“The other possibility,” I said, “is we get a man into the trunk of Stayner’s car. He can slip out first chance he gets.”
“Why Stayner’s?” Frank asked.
“Because he’ll be the last one in. Everyone else will be impatient to go.”
“Then what?”
“Here’s what I’ve been thinking. One of us dresses up like one of the surgical team. The gown, the mask, all of it. Then we pull a switch and our guy gets in with a gun. Leads the attack from the inside.”
“Pull a switch how?”
“I’m still working on that.”
“Okay,” Frank said. “Five opportunities to get in. And hopefully one to get out.”
“Six,” Ryan said.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“We didn’t count the donor. The guy they can’t start the party without.”
“His name is George Riklitis,” Stayner said over the phone. “Aged forty-seven, five-foot-nine, one hundred and eighty pounds. A day labourer, according to his file, something to do with patios. Excellent health except for chronic back pain, which is immaterial to his suitability as a donor but explains the need for money. I’m told he has brought more children into the world than he can presently afford and jumped at Daggett’s offer.”