"It's me," I said.
"How did you come by this number?"
"From the man we discussed."
"A shot was fired through my upper window last night. Nobody heard it. There was a little round hole in the glass. A big chunk of plaster torn off the wall."
"I'll have him tomorrow. If I thought you knew what he looked like, I'd prove it to you."
"I know what he looks like."
It would have chilled me, but I knew how he knew.
"If I can pull it off, I'll call tomorrow night. Take you to him."
"You mean…?"
"Yeah. COD."
136
CALLED MOREHOUSE. Got him live, no machine.
"Stay by your phone tomorrow night. Keep the line clear. All night."
"Sure."
137
CALLED CANDY.
"Hello, baby," she said into the phone. Breathy. Knowing how old she was supposed to be.
"I want to do it again," I told her.
"Anytime, honey. Just tell me."
"There's something I have to do first. Something real important."
"I know you'll be okay."
"Yeah. I'm just a little nervous."
"Anything I can do?"
"No, I'm covered. He doesn't know…oh, never mind. It's too complicated. But when it's done, I'll bring Elvira back."
"Are you going to have to…?"
"No. I'm going to do something for him. Something he really wants. He'll give me the kid. No problem."
"Oh, I knew you could do it. Didn't I tell you?"
"Yeah. I'll call you soon."
"I love you," she said. Like she had before.
138
"I'M ON MY WAY," I told Train over the phone.
"I'll be here."
They let me in downstairs. Two of them went with me, close enough to touch. The two Elvira said had made the crazy girl disappear.
He was standing this time. By the window. The one with the little round hole in it. The monster's word was always good. I stepped close to him, keeping my voice down.
"He's dead."
"You're sure? Who is he?"
"Wesley. I'll take you to him- you said you'd know his face."
"How can I be sure?"
"You'll see for yourself."
"Sure of you."
"Ask Reba."
His blue eyes blinked rapidly.
"I don't know how you'll know him," I said, my voice soft, slightly awed, "but I know you will. You can go in my car. Take a couple of your men with you. Hold a gun to the back of my neck all the while, if you want. This is the truth- Wesley is a dead man."
"Where?"
"I left him on Wards Island. I'll show you. I've got a flashlight in the car."
He gestured to the two men. Left me alone in the room. Reba came through the door. I stayed against the window, tapping the ashes from my cigarette onto the sill. She walked against me, wrapping her arms around me, grinding her hips. I slid my hands inside the robe, cupping her buttocks. The globes seemed to swell in my hands.
"Can you work your trick standing up?" I asked her.
"The man is dead?"
"The man is dead."
She pressed against me, a fleshy heat-exchanger. "Will you come back? After you show him?"
"What for?"
"For me. I'll tell you the truth."
"Then I'll come."
"Yes," she said, promising.
Train came back in with the same two men who'd taken me upstairs. "I'll go with you. We all will. When we come back, you'll have your money."
I nodded.
"And whatever else you want here."
"Let's go," I said.
139
THE FORD was half a block away. I unlocked it. The overhead light went on. The front seat sagged badly on the passenger side, upholstery ripped, a sharp spring showing through.
"It doesn't look like much," I apologized. "Where we're going, a nice car would stand out."
I climbed in behind the wheel. The damaged front seat hadn't been necessary- the bodyguards played it the right way- their bodies pressed against the one they had to keep safe. One of them got into the back. Train next. Then the last man.
I buckled my seat belt. Pulled away from the curb. Drove past the House of Detention. Took the Brooklyn Bridge to the FDR, heading north.
I glanced at the rearview mirror. Train was sitting quietly in the middle, hands on his knees, staring straight ahead at nothing. The two guys on either side of him were in their early twenties. Looked enough alike to be brothers. Close-cropped hair, flat faces, hooded eyes. The first generation of the breeding program? As I hooked onto Wards Island, I heard the sound of a round being chambered. Felt the pistol nestle into the back of my neck.
"You know what that is, Mr. Burke?"
"Yes."
"No matter what happens, Tommy can do his job. The pistol has a hair trigger."
"Tell him to be calm. We're almost there."
I lit a cigarette, leaning back, pressing my head into the gun. Amateurs.
I pulled over under the girders. "Okay," I said, turning sideways to speak to Train, voice low and conversational. "We'll have to walk from here. I'm rolling down my window. Why don't you have Tommy get out and hold the gun while…" I pushed the switch in the middle of the last word, ducking my head. The train hit the wall.
The gun never went off. My breath was gone. The windshield was splattered with flesh and fluid. I let air seep in through my nose until my lungs started to work. I didn't look in the back seat.
Unbuckled my seat belt. Stepped outside. My legs wouldn't work. I sat down outside the Ford, waiting. It would come back.
In a few minutes I started walking. By myself. Fingering the little transmitter in my pocket.
The Plymouth growled alongside me, running without lights. The passenger door opened. I climbed inside. Hit the switch. The window went down. Max drove slowly. The Ford was in sight. I held the transmitter out the window, as high as I could. The Mole said it had a quarter-mile range. We were much closer than that. I pushed the button. The Ford exploded. Flames filled the rearview mirror as Max hit the gas.
He dropped me off where I'd left Morehouse's car.
I CALLED MOREHOUSE from a phone on the West Side. "You know the Yacht Basin?"
"Sure, man. Where you think I keep my yacht?"
"Fifteen minutes."
"I'm rolling."
141
HE PULLED IN. Seemed relieved to see his car still in one piece.
"What's on?"
I handed him his keys. "There's gonna be an explosion tonight. Somewhere on Wards Island. Off the approach road to Kirby. The cops'll find bodies inside. They won't make a connect. You know McGowan and Morales?"
"The Runaway Squad? Sure."
"You call them. You got a tip, right? The connect is to a man named Train. He's running the baby-breeding operation." I gave him the address.
"They'll need more than that for a search warrant."
"Save the bullshit for your column, pal. Let them get a warrant the way they always do. You know that Anonymous Informant? The one they use on every search warrant since the Supreme Court told them they needed one? Time for another guest appearance. Tell them to run it through Wolfe at City-Wide. She'll know what to do. Besides, the joint'll be full of victims, not perps."
"Right on, man. When do I know?"
"You got nothing else to do tonight, right? Maybe you're working on that movie script you're always bullshitting about writing someday. So you're monitoring the police band- I know you got a scanner. You get a call a few minutes after they get theirs."