Janine had met me in the lobby of her building. Her face was pale and she was rigid with worry and embarrassment. Her voice was a stiff whisper.
“What is going on, John?”
“Where are the boys?” I asked. The doorman and the concierge were casting sidelong looks at us, and Janine took my arm and led me to the sidewalk.
“They’re around the corner, at the Miltons’. What is this about?”
“You left the packages upstairs?”
Janine’s blue eyes narrowed and flashed. “Yes. Now for God’s sake tell me what’s happening.”
“I don’t know who sent them, but those packages are a message- a warning- to me. They go along with some photos I received today.”
“Photos of what?”
I took a deep breath. “Some were of Jane… and some were of the boys.” Whatever color was left in Janine’s face drained away. Her eyes went wide and her hands went to her mouth.
“Jesus Christ,” she said, and stepped away from me. A long black car pulled up to the curb and Ned got out of the back. His face was rigid. He looked at Janine and then at me.
“What the hell is going on here?” he said. I told him about the photos and the packages and what I thought they meant, and as I did he shook his head and ran his hand through his gingery hair. When I finished he stared at the pavement for a long time and said nothing. Then he turned to Janine.
“Why don’t you sit in the car, Jan?” he said softly. Janine murmured something and moved to the curb. Ned’s driver jumped out and held the door. Janine glared at me coldly as she climbed inside.
“If you give me the keys, I’ll get the packages and get out of here,” I said to Ned. He nodded and fished in his pocket.
The packages were in the foyer, in a plain brown shopping bag, and both of them were wrapped in gold paper. They were rectangular, about the dimensions of a medium-sized phonebook but much lighter. Janine was still in the car and Ned was still standing by the curb when I returned. His face was lined and sagging. I handed him his keys.
“I’m sorry about this,” I said.
“You know, you’ve terrified Janine and the kids. And you’ve certainly scared the hell out of me. My God, Johnny, what kind of a life are you leading that this sort of thing happens? What kind of thing have you brought to our door?” He stopped and took a deep breath and softened his voice a little. “Janine’s upset right now and so am I, and she- we both- think maybe it’s best if you don’t come around for a while.”
I looked at Ned for a moment and nodded. “Sure,” I said, and walked away.
“What was in the packages?” Neary asked, bringing me back to the car.
“Jigsaw puzzles, one of a talking train and another of that furry dinosaur. Somebody’s idea of funny.” I looked over at Neary. “Tell me it’s not a warning shot,” I said again.
“To back off of Danes?”
“It’s the only thing I’m working on.”
Neary shook his head slowly. “I’m not so sure it’s Marty.”
“Who else can it be? Are you saying that somebody else is running a tail on me, and your guys somehow missed it?”
Neary sighed, and Sikes and Pritchard shifted uncomfortably in the front seat.
“Marty’s boys were the only ones we saw out there, and I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who took these photos. But I’m not sure Marty organized all this. And if you’d calm down a little and think about it, you might agree.”
I took a deep breath and ran my hand across the back of my neck. It was warm and sticky. “Okay, all calm now. What am I supposed to think about?”
“The timing, for one thing,” Neary said. “Not even an hour went by between the time we left Marty’s office and when you found those pictures. Do you think he had that stuff ready and waiting and that he sent Stevie racing uptown to deliver it as soon as we left?”
I shook my head. “I think he’d set it up already. Our showing up when we did was a coincidence.”
Neary raised his eyebrows at me. “You think Marty could be that cool, knowing what was happening while we were sitting in his office? He’s not a total idiot, but he’s also not that smooth. And what about genius-boy Stevie? He clearly recognized you, even though it took him a while and he didn’t know enough to keep it to himself. You think that’s the response you would’ve got out of him if he knew this shit was going down today?”
I rubbed my eyes. “Maybe he didn’t know about it,” I said. “Maybe Czerka doesn’t trust him to know about this stuff.”
Neary wasn’t buying. “I don’t know that Marty trusts anyone, but I do know Stevie does all his fetching and carrying. If Marty arranged this bullshit, Stevie would’ve known about it, and he would’ve pissed his pants when he saw you today.”
I looked out the window at the doors of Jane’s building, and thought about what Neary had said, and grudgingly agreed. The timing didn’t make sense and neither did Czerka’s behavior, or Stevie’s. But my anger wanted a focus, and if not Czerka…
“Then who?” I said aloud.
“If we assume Marty’s boys took the pictures- and I don’t know who else would have- there are only two choices as to who set this up: one of Marty’s guys or Marty’s client.”
“His guys would have no reason to do it,” I said.
“None that I can figure.”
“Which leaves his client.”
“Which leaves his client.”
A surge of frustration closed my throat, and I slapped my palm against the window glass. “Which leaves us exactly where we were before- with no fucking idea of who that might be.”
“Maybe not exactly where we were,” Neary said evenly. “If Marty doesn’t know about the pictures, I can use them to shake him up a little and maybe shake something loose.” My cell phone trilled and I answered it. It was Jane, ready to leave.
“I’ll meet you out front,” I told her. I hung up and looked at Neary. “I notice you said I can use them, not we can use them.”
Neary sighed and was quiet for a while. “I think you’re wound a little tight right now, John,” he said finally. “I wouldn’t want you doing anything… counterproductive.”
I stared at him. “How hard will you go at him?”
Neary’s eyes narrowed and Sikes and Pritchard shifted again in their seats. “As hard as I need to,” he said. We were quiet for a moment, watching the street.
“When are you going to talk to him? It should be soon-”
“Today,” Neary said, cutting me off. “I’ll do it today.”
“How about the nephew, Stevie? He might go easier than Czerka. He-”
“I’ll do what needs doing, John.” Neary’s voice was tight.
“And that means what?”
“That means part of what you’re paying for here is my judgment. That means I’m not going in there high on my own adrenaline and with my head up my ass. That means if what you’re looking for is somebody to kneecap these guys, you’re on your own.” Neary stared at me, and his eyes were flat and unmoving.
I took a deep breath and let it out and nodded. “I don’t know if I could take that office again anyway,” I said.
Neary smiled a little. He looked beyond me, out the car window. “Here she comes,” he said. He slipped the photos into the envelope and passed it to me.
I climbed out of the Volvo. “Call me when you’ve talked to Czerka. And thanks for sitting out here.”
“It’ll be on your bill,” he said. “You sure you don’t want a shadow home?” I shook my head and closed the door and the car pulled away. Jane was watching. She hitched her big black bag higher on her shoulder. There were tight lines around her mouth.
“Was that your friend Neary?” she asked. I nodded. “What was he doing?”
“Waiting for me to get here.”
Jane pursed her lips. “What’s going on?” she said. We started toward 16th Street and I told her. We walked slowly and Jane listened, and when I was done she didn’t speak for several minutes. When she did, her voice was soft and flat.