"Lunch? Where?" Bushnagel asked.
"Cheap and fast," I said."I'm buying."
"How fast?" the lawyer asked.
"Hop into the elevator. I'll be right outside."
When he stepped out of the lobby of the big glass tower on Sixth Avenue, I was leaning on a parked car, holding out a couple of hot dogs."Ketchup or mustard?"
"Not to be particularly lawyerly about it-but how 'boutboth. "
We sat on a ledge on the busy corner, the lunch-hour crowds streaming by."Steve, I've got someone I want to get to who's fled to Israel."
"Get to?"
"I need to get him back."
Bushnagel took a bite."Are we talking fugitive or citizen, here?"
"Citizen, I suspect. He's been there awhile."
"And what you want him for, these are crimes committed in the United States, not Israel, right?"
"We're just talking, right, Steve?"
He waved his dog at me."I assure you, you're not paying me enough for anything more specific."
I grinned."Okay. Then we might be talking some other things in Russia and France as well."
"Hmmph." Bushnagel grunted."The Israelis are cooperative-to a degree. You remember Jonathan Pollard? We arrested him for espionage in 1985-in the Israelis' eyes, unjustly. They've been trying to get him back unsuccessfully for twenty years. And that electronics guy who fled there? ‘Crazy Eddie' Antar? Look at how long it took to get him back. Of course, it all depends on what we'rereally talking here."
"Talking?"
"In the post-9/11 world." The lawyer shrugged."Do the Israelis want something from us? Are the other governments involved? Look, Nick, I didn't become a complete dummy when I left the government. I know we're not chasing tax cheats here.
"If the evidence is solid, you could definitely get the guy held for questioning. But what kind of access you'd have, and how long that would take, that's all up for grabs. How time sensitive is this?"
"The highest." I shrugged glumly."Off the charts."
"Always is. Well, factor into this the matters of state, too. Does this have any rhythm for the Israelis? Do they want to make a deal with us? Do they want to make a deal with the Russians or the French before they turn him over? It'sdelicate, Nick-and I don't think that's a word that sits particularly well with you."
I nodded.
"Look, you'd get him held. You get a lot of people involved. But what happens next is anybody's guess. Then there's always the chance they drag their feet, the guy slips away, and you never hear from him again."
"I can't take that risk," I said, shaking my head.
"I understand." Bushnagel nodded."Problem is, though, it's still the only game in town."
"In the real world, yes." I nodded. I balled up my wrapper.
I knew Steve was wondering why I had come to him. He had left the government long ago. There were plenty of lawyers on staff who could handle this kind of matter."Just for the record, Nick"-he looked closely at me-“is there any other?"
Chapter 89
I TRACED THE EDGE of my fingernail along the slope of Andie's back.
"Don't." She stirred, snuggling up to me.
I'd been thinking all night. Since I left Steve Bushnagel. In the real world, I knew, I would have Remlikov arrested. I would lead the interrogation. He would give up Cavello, and I would go get him. That was my job. It was just that the"real world" had gotten a lot more complicated lately.
I ran my fingers along Andie's spine again. This time she turned and faced me, resting on her arm. She saw something was serious."What is it?"
"I may have a line," I said,"on the man who blew up the bus."
Andie sat up, the sleep already gone from her eyes."What are you talking about, Nick?"
"I'll show you."
I reached over and opened a manila envelope I had on the night table. In a long row on the bed I spread several black-and-white glossies: Homeland Security photos of Kolya Remlikov and the ones Yuri Plakhov had sent me.
"His name is Remlikov," I said."He's Russian. He's a killer for hire. And a particularly good one. He's got a very bloody résumé. I think Cavello may have gotten him through the Russian mob. I think he's in Israel."
Andie's eyes widened at the photos. I put down the one Chummie had doctored in his lab, showing the man in the elevator without his disguise. They stretched wider. She picked it up and stared at the angular, dark-featured face a long time.
"Why do you think he was the one who blew up the bus?"
"This." I removed two final photographs. The first was one I had given Senil. This photo I had found myself, from hours and hours of plugging through the courthouse security cameras. Not from the day of the escape. But from earlier.
From Cavello'sfirst trial.
"Take away the sideburns and the dark glasses." I put a cleaned-up image next to it.
"Oh my God!" She picked it up, jaw tightening, gazing at the face with a hurt, stunned expression. Then her eyes filled with tears.
"Why did you keep this from me?" she asked, her back to me.
"I didn't. I only got these photos today."
"So what happens now? You give this to your people?" she said excitedly."They go and get him? Tell me that's the way it goes."
"I don't know. It may not be that easy. The Israelis will have to be contacted. It involves governments. Procedures. This sort of evidence is highly speculative. Photos can always be doctored. You never know what will happen."
"What do you mean, you don't know? This man killed federal marshals, and he helped Cavello escape. He blew up the loaded juror bus, Nick. He killed my little boy."
"I know. But it's complicated, Andie. Remlikov is a foreign citizen. There may be other governments involved. Other law enforcement agencies. Then the Israelis have to agree to give him up."
"What are you saying, Nick?" Alarm rose up in her eyes."They can go get this guy. You know where he is. These are your people, Nick. What does the Bureau think?"
I shook my head. Waited a second. Then I spoke again."I didn't take it to the Bureau, Andie."
She blinked like a fighter trying to clear his head after a stunning punch. She kept looking at me, trying to read my face."What are you saying, Nick?"
"I'm saying a man like this would disappear the second he knew people were onto him. And the instant Cavello finds out we're onto them, he takes off, too." I looked at her, eyes clear."We've lost Cavello twice. We're not losing him again."
I think, at that moment, she knew what I was proposing. The angry flush on her face was swept away, and it was replaced by a look of clarity. When she looked at me again, I think she understood what kind of man I was.
"I told you I was going to get him, Andie."
She nodded."I'm not even going to ask, Nick. I just want you to know, whatever it takes, I'm with you. Do you hear me? Do you understand?"
"Not on this," I said."This is something I have to do alone. You don't want to be involved."
"No." Andie smiled thinly."That's where you're wrong. I know exactly what you have to do, Nick. And I'm already involved."
"Not like this." What I had to do was in another country-and was way, way outside the law.
"Yes,like this, Nick. Like everything." She picked up Remlikov's photo."I lost my son. I want Cavello, too."
"You know what's going to happen over there? You know what we're talking about, Andie?"