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‘Are you armed?’ she asked LaMarr.

‘No.’

‘I hope for your sake I don’t find out you’re lying.’

‘I’m not armed.’

Given that he was looking down the barrel of a gun, he might be telling the truth.

‘Can you stand?’ Vivien asked Russell.

His legs didn’t seem to want to obey him, and his stomach was tight with cramps. But somehow he managed to get to his feet and walk to Vivien. She handed him a big dark pistol and nodded at the two men on the ground.

‘Keep an eye on these two. If they move, shoot.’

‘I’d be glad to.’

Russell had never used a firearm in his life but the punch he’d had from Jimbo was a good incentive to start. And from that distance it was impossible to miss.

Vivien relaxed and turned to LaMarr, who had followed the scene with a certain apprehension from behind the desk.

‘What’s your name?’

The man hesitated, licking his dry lips before replying. ‘LaMarr.’

‘OK. This fucking whore is called Vivien Light and she’s a detective with the 13th Precinct. And she’s just been an eyewitness to a kidnapping. Which, as you know, is a federal offence. Now how much do you think it’s worth for me not to call the FBI and drop your name to them?’

LaMarr had realized where she was going with this. ‘I don’t know. How about sixty-four thousand dollars?’

Vivien leaned over and took from his fat, sweaty hand the dollars he was still clutching. ‘Let’s say sixty-four thousand five hundred and the deal’s done. And that’s the end of it. Do I make myself clear?’ She straightened up and put the money in the pocket of her jeans. ‘I’ll take your silence for consent. Let’s go, Russell. There’s nothing more to do here.’

Russell took the envelopes and the wallet from the desk and put them in his pocket. He took the pack of chewing-gum, looked at it for a moment and then put it down with exaggerated grace in front of LaMarr. ‘I’ll leave you this. In case you want to sweeten your breath.’ He smiled seraphically. ‘Use it wisely. It’s worth sixty-four thousand dollars.’

There was anger in the fat man’s eyes, and there was death. He joined Vivien, and they retreated in silence, shoulder to shoulder, keeping their eyes on the little group. They reached the shutter and Russell saw that Jimbo, when they had arrived, had not lowered it completely. That was how Vivien had managed to get in without making any noise.

This time she bent down and raised it.

Within a minute they were sitting in her car. Russell noticed that her hands were trembling with the drop in adrenaline. He wasn’t feeling much better. He consoled himself with the observation that not even someone trained in this kind of thing ever really got in the habit.

Russell tried to relax and find his voice again. ‘Thanks,’ he said.

The reply was a curt one. ‘Thanks my ass.’

He turned abruptly and saw that Vivien was smiling. She put her hand in her pocket, took out the five hundred dollars and gave it to him.

‘Part of this will go to pay the laundry. And I hope for your finances I haven’t ruined my jacket, rolling on the floor like that.’

Russell accepted this clear invitation to relieve the tension. ‘As soon as I can, I’ll buy you a whole shop full of jackets.’

‘Added to the dinner.’

Russell looked at her profile as she drove. She was young, strong and beautiful. A dangerous woman, seen from the wrong end of a gun barrel.

‘There’s something I have to say to you.’

‘What?’

Russell tightened his seat belt to stop the buzzer from sounding. ‘When I saw you coming around that corner…’

‘Yes?’

Russell closed his eyes and sank back in his seat. ‘It was like an apparition, like the Virgin Mary appearing to the faithful. From now on I’ll worship at your shrine.’

In the semi-darkness of his closed eyelids, he heard the sound of Vivien’s cool laughter. Then Russell felt things fading away and he, too, smiled.

CHAPTER 24

The key turned in the lock, opened the door and disappeared again into Vivien’s pocket. She entered and switched on the light.

‘Come in, sit down.’

Russell entered, carrying a bag in each hand, and looked around. ‘It’s nice here.’

Vivien looked at him with a touch of self-satisfaction. ‘Do you want me to say what Carmen Montesa said when you made the same comment about her apartment?’

‘No, I mean it.’

He had expected to find an untidy apartment. Vivien struck him as a tough cookie, not at all the type you’d expect to be houseproud: not patient or meticulous enough. Instead of which the small apartment was a model of good taste in its furnishings, and full of an unusual attention to detail. There was something here he had never experienced before. Not the insane chaos of his own apartment, nor the antiseptic splendour of his parents’ house, but real love on the part of the occupant for the things she had around her.

He put the bags down, while continuing to examine the apartment. ‘Do you have a cleaning woman?’

Vivien was at the refrigerator, getting a bottle of mineral water. ‘I assume you’re kidding,’ she replied, with her back to him.

‘What do you mean?’

‘There aren’t many people in the NYPD who could afford a cleaning woman. Cleaners in New York are as expensive as plastic surgeons, and their work needs going over, too, though usually a whole lot earlier.’

As she poured herself a glass of water, Vivien indicated the two-seater couch facing the television. ‘Sit down. Would you like a beer?’

‘A beer would be good.’

He walked to the counter and took the bottle that Vivien had opened and pushed towards him. It wasn’t until he felt the cold liquid going down his throat that he realized how thirsty he was. He would carry the after-effects of Jimbo’s punch with him for several days. He walked towards the comfortable-looking couch, and as he did so noticed a picture frame of unusual design on top of a cabinet. In it there was a photograph of a woman with a girl of about fifteen. It was obvious at first glance that they were mother and daughter, so alike did they look. They were both very beautiful.

‘Who are they?’

‘My sister and my niece,’ Vivien replied, in a tone that suggested she had said all she had to say on the matter.