She was chewing happily on a Fig Newton, and nodded at him. “That’s how I met Agent Savich last night, at a seance, actually.”
“Oh? Last night? I thought you’d been kidnapped yesterday afternoon. How—”
Savich raised his hand. “Be satisfied with your miracle, Dr. Saint.”
Dr. Saint looked from one to the other of them, but he didn’t say anything more. “All right then, I’ll leave you to it. Please, Agent Savich, if she tires, let her rest.” Before he left, he gave Sherlock another long look. Sherlock smiled, and waved him away.
Savich said, “Trust me on this, Kathryn. Makepeace won’t ever get near you again.”
She gave him a very long look, swallowed the rest of her Fig Newton, and nodded. “If you’re up to it, a few more questions.” At her nod, he continued. “I’d like you to back up, Kathryn, and tell me everything you remember that happened. Begin when Makepeace came into your house.”
He saw her shudder, and didn’t blame her. “I hate to think about it, not because I was so terrified, but because I was helpless. I’ve always hated being helpless.
“He hit me on the head with the butt of a gun. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair in a closet, his clothes all around me. I had no idea where I was but I knew it had to be that man trying to kill Julia. But I couldn’t figure out how he even knew who I was. Did he follow Julia and Cheney to my house?”
“No. As Cheney was trying to tell you, the media had you on TV special reports for a couple of hours, announced that you were assisting the police, how your ‘vision’ had helped save Cheney’s life.”
“Maybe we could hire him to attack the media instead of me.”
Savich grinned. “What happened?”
“I felt you then, and I managed to form a blurry picture of you in my mind. We’d only begun speaking when Makepeace opened the closet door and dragged me out. He let me go to the bathroom, and he let me eat a slice of toast, said it was left over and he didn’t have a dog. He frightened me. I could feel the frustration and rage pouring off him. But you know, he was whistling the whole time.
“He asked me where Julia was. I told him I had no idea, how could I? And he said since I was a psychic, since I was helping the police, even had a vision for Cheney Stone and Julia Ransom, why then, I could tell him where they were now, couldn’t I? He wanted a vision from me. And that was why he took me in the first place.”
Savich said, “Maybe, but I think that his big motive was to get you out of the game. And he had a use for you with that bomb.”
“Yes, that makes sense. Well, I told him I couldn’t simply do a vision on command. He hit me a couple of times, then he forced me back into the closet. He didn’t let me out until this morning. I tried and tried to contact you, Dillon, but there was just nothing.
“When he brought me out of that hideous closet this morning, he asked me again to tell him where Julia was. I told him I saw her at her house in Pacific Heights, with Cheney guarding her. He seemed pleased. He grinned at me, patted my face, and left, whistling.
“It took me a moment to realize he hadn’t locked me back in the closet. I tried and tried to get loose, but he’d tied me too tight. And I tried again to reach you, Dillon, but you weren’t there.
“Then the police came running in and the bomb exploded.”
Savich pulled Makepeace’s photo out of his pocket. “This the man?”
“Oh yes, that’s Makepeace.”
“He didn’t say anything at all before he left you?”
“No, nothing.”
“Did he receive any phone calls?”
“Yes, one, but I couldn’t hear what he said.”
“It doesn’t matter. I know he was getting ready for his big production.”
“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
Remarkably, she gave him a big smile. “Then I woke up to see your face. Thank you for helping me back.”
Kathryn looked up to see Sherlock smiling down at her. She said, “Do you know, I think Fig Newtons are about the best thing in the world?”
CHAPTER 53
Xavier Makepeace watched Johnny Booth twitch. The man never stopped twitching; it was like there was a battery inside him you couldn’t turn off. Johnny flexed and unflexed his fingers, banged his fist yet again on the steering wheel. He hadn’t stopped twitching, cursing, or banging his fist and yakking about how they were going to get caught for sure and it was all his fault. “You screwed up, dude, you screwed everything to hell and gone. You can fly right off to Zanzibar, but I don’t even have a passport. What am I going to do? I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you, shouldn’t have listened to Zannie—she’s always saying you’re some kind of international modern i-con—whatever the hell that means. She’s probably got the hots for you.”
For at least the third time, his voice calm and soothing, Xavier Makepeace recited the same words. He hated to repeat himself, particularly to someone he considered a moron. “How would the cops get you, Johnny? We got away clean, you told me yourself. No one saw you at the Ransom house, no one saw us driving off after you picked me up. Isn’t that what you said?”
“Yeah, yeah, but that don’t matter. Thing is, like I told you, there was that old guy—”
“You said he was an ancient old coot and the little girl with him couldn’t have been more than five. So what?”
“He was staring real hard at me, and that little gal, she looked sharp as my pa’s stiletto. I tell you, dude, they both saw me and studied me, yeah, that’s it. Maybe the old guy got my license plate. Besides, there were lots of people out. Somebody else could have seen me, somebody I didn’t notice. My pa used to say you have to watch every bump in the road, they was always hiding close by to trip you up. Yeah, the old guy could have described me to the cops and you can bet one of the vice cops will recognize who I am. Cops ain’t so stupid as you think they are. If you wasn’t wearing the Kevlar, you’d by lying on your back not breathing. They nearly nailed you this time, didn’t they?”
He had to shut this moron up soon or his head would explode. And maybe Johnny was right, maybe the old guy described him well enough for an I.D. Well, it didn’t matter one way or the other, did it?
Makepeace said, with infinite patience, “But they didn’t, did they? And they won’t get you either, Johnny. Stop your worrying.” But the moron was right, they’d very nearly nailed him. Put four bullets in his Kevlar, three of the four kill shots. That made him even angrier than Johnny did.
“Take the Pacifica exit, Johnny, I want to stop for a while downtown. There’s a nice crab restaurant there, you’ll like it.”
“What’s with your accent, dude? You’ve changed it all of a sudden. You’re starting to sound like some weird-ass Brit. Hey, I don’t want to go to Pacifica, I don’t live anywhere near Pacifica.” Makepeace stared him down and Johnny started cursing again and banging the steering wheel, calling himself names now, but he look the exit.
Makepeace said, “You can take a cab home, Johnny. With all the money I gave you for this failed job, you can call a limo to take you home. Take a right here. I want to go down to the beach.”
“Beach? You nuts, dude? The beach? Listen, I want a bonus for my health scare, man, I nearly seized up with an attack. It was only a burglary, you said, practically a setup. You owe me a bonus.”
“Turn, Johnny.”
Johnny turned onto the narrow beach road that wound back on itself across a low sloping hill down to the wood-strewn brown sand beach. There was a small parking area off to the right, with several walking trails feeding off it. “Pull in here, Johnny. I want to commune with nature.”
“Was that some sort of lame-ass joke? Well, I’m not laughing, am I? Forget nature. You gonna give me a bonus? You know I deserve one after what you pulled.”