“Keys in the car,” Hardman said to me. “Conference call’s gone through and everybody’s on.”
“O.K.,” I said. “You follow the girl’s Chevrolet. She should be coming out any minute.”
“We’ll be right behind her. Truck’s going to be in the alley.”
I opened the door for Magda and she got in. I walked around to the other side. Padillo was just getting into the Buick next to Mush. “Stay in touch,” he said.
“Don’t worry.”
I started the Cadillac, put the automatic gear into drive, checked the brakes, discovered I had power steering, and drove out into the street. Sylvia, driving the green Chevrolet, pulled out of the basement garage and the white pickup with Tulip at the wheel and Hardman beside him fell in behind her. I looked at my watch. It was eleven-fifteen. I picked up the phone and said hello. Padillo answered. He said: “Everybody check in.”
“I’m right behind the pickup,” I said. “We’re heading up Twentieth to Massachusetts.”
“This is Hardman. We right behind Missy’s Chewy. On Twentieth, heading for Massachusetts.”
“This Johnny Jay,” another voice came in. “Tulip’s drivin. We in the van and movin up Mass bout five minutes away from where we supposed to be.”
“All right,” Padillo said. “Hardman will serve as talker from now on. If he says move, you’ll move. It’s all yours, Hardman.”
The big man’s bass voice rumbled over the telephone. “I’ll give it to you as we go... turnin left on Massachusetts... now we’re at Sheridan Circle... we around the circle and straight on Mass... now we two blocks past the circle and about six blocks or so from where we’re goin...”
I drove with my left hand on the wheel and held the phone with my right. Magda leaned against the door and stared out through the windshield.
“Three blocks from where we’re goin,” Hardman said.
At the end of that block I turned right, then left into a driveway, backed up, and drove the Cadillac to the corner and parked it just in front of a stop sign. I could see Massachusetts Avenue traffic for two blocks each way. I cut the engine, lighted a cigarette, and kept listening to the telephone.
“Missy’s lookin for a place to park,” Hardman’s voice said. “She’s found one bout a block away... She’s parked O.K.... Now she’s gettin out and headin back for the place... Come in, Johnny Jay.”
“We right behind the house we supposed to be behind,” Johnny Jay’s voice said. “No action.”
“All right,” Hardman said. “It’s eleven-thirty now... Missy’s goin up to the door... She’s ringin the bell... Me and Tulip’s parked right in front across the street in a no-parkin zone... Man’s openin the door — thin white cat — she’s goin in. Now we don’t do nothin but wait. I’ll say somethin when somethin happens.”
I rested the telephone on my shoulder and rolled down the window and threw my cigarette out. I had to turn on the key to roll down the window. They were electric.
Magda stirred in the corner. “Now?” she asked. “Is this when I get my briefing?”
“Now,” I said. “The little blonde is from the same country as Van Zandt. Her father got run over in downtown Washington last week. Her father knew about Van Zandt’s plans to get himself killed. It doesn’t matter now how he found out. The little blonde’s job is to go into the trade mission, and threaten to spill the whole mess. We’re betting that they’ll move her someplace where they can keep her out of sight and out of hearing. We’re betting that they’ll move her to the same place where they’re holding my wife.”
“Padillo,” she said. “It’s got all the nastiness of something he’d propose — using someone else’s neck.”
“If she doesn’t come out in thirty minutes, we go in and get her.”
“We?”
“The four of them and me. You can wait in the car.”
“And if they move her, we follow them. Is that it?”
“That’s it,” I said.
“Then I go up to the door of wherever it is, knock politely, and when it’s opened, I aim a gun at whoever opens it and tell him to open it all the way.”
“I’ll be with you,” I said. “Our four friends will be close by.”
“Then we go in, rescue your wife and Michael’s little blonde thing and that’s it. The curtain descends with me counting the final share of my payment.”
“You’ve got it.”
“Simple,” she said. “Like everything he’s ever done. Complicated, but simple, with someone bound to get hurt.”
“Perhaps.”
“We’ll make a lovely couple going up to that door,” she said. “How do you know they don’t have orders to shoot all callers?”
“I don’t. You can always shoot first.”
“You sound awfully determined.”
“It’s my first wife.”
She looked at me and smiled slightly. “Determined — even for a first wife.”
“You did bring something to shoot with, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
There wasn’t much conversation after that. I lighted another cigarette and stared at the traffic. Magda curled in her corner of the big seat and tapped her fingers on her purse. After a while, she opened it, took out a compact and inspected her make-up. If she were going calling, she seemed to want to look nice.
“Hardman,” the telephone said. “It’s fifteen till and they comin out the front... Two and Missy... she between ’em... They all gettin in a car — Continental, dark blue... all three in the front seat... it’s backin out... turnin onto Massachusetts and headin away...”
“Which way?” It was Padillo’s voice.
“East... we’re right behind ’em... You got it, Johnny Jay?”
“Got it. We’re comin.”
“I’ll take first tail,” Hardman said. “Then we shift off and you take it.”
“O.K.,” Johnny Jay said. “We rollin on Mass now.”
“They comin your way, Mac.”
“All right,” I said. I started the car and pulled it up to the corner, and pulled down the sun visor. The blue Continental sped by, Boggs at the wheel, Sylvia in the center, Darragh on the other side. They didn’t seem to be doing much talking. The white pickup truck was about fifty feet behind them, Tulip driving. I fell in behind the pickup.
“Where you at, Johnny Jay?” Hardman asked.
“Six blocks this side of the circle,” he said.
“We’re four blocks. I want you to take over at Dupont.”
“I’m comin.”
At Dupont Circle, the Continental turned down Nineteenth. “He’s turnin on Nineteenth, Johnny Jay. I’m goin on to Connecticut.”
“I got him in sight.”
“You take the talkin then.”
I followed the pickup truck as it turned right on Connecticut at Dupont Circle.
“This mother’s movin,” Johnny Jay said. “We’re cross-in M Street... goin straight... Now we’re on R... turnin left on K... Red light at Eighteenth... Now we’re goin... Seventeenth... now Seventeenth and I... made the light... now Pennsylvania and we made that one too... Still on Seventeenth...”
Johnny Jay kept talking as Boggs led him down Seventeenth to the Tidal Basin, up Maine Avenue past what was left of Washington’s waterfront, and then up M Street into the new southwest section of the city.
“I don’t know where this mother’s goin, but he’s headin for home territory now,” Johnny Jay said. “We at M and Van Streets now, baby.”
“He goin past the Navy Yard?” Hardman asked.
“Look like he goin right past,” Johnny Jay said.