Bones must have felt the same way, because the big man kept his irreverent quips down to a dull roar during their tour.
“So Bones, who was the founder you most admire?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy. You know what most of these guys thought of Indians?”
“Come on Bones, you wouldn’t have joined the Navy if you didn’t respect some of this stuff.”
Bones raised his eyebrows when he met Dane’s eye. “Ben Franklin. More curiosity than almost any man in history. And not afraid to change his mind or admit he was wrong.”
“I seem to recall he modeled his ideas for the U.S. government after the Iroquois tribes.”
“Yep, he was one smart dude. Even smarter than you think you are, Maddock.”
As they made their way back from Independence Square to where the Mustang was parked, Dane looked at his watch. “11:30, I’m ready for lunch.”
“You gonna give Letson a call first?”
Dane had called Letson from a pay phone before they went into Independence Hall. The hacker had been pleased to hear from them and assured him that getting DMV information was child’s play. Dane had allowed the earlier attack to slip from his mind during the tour, but now he agreed with Bones that they needed to find another phone.
Letson answered on the first ring. “Maddock, I got what you need.”
“Keep that quiet or Bones will get jealous.”
“I still can’t believe you two are tight. Some kind of yen and yang thing?”
“I suppose. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”
“Hey, it makes no difference to me. Anyway, I looked up the cars. The two Maryland plates are registered to the same Maryland Corporation called G. Mason Incorporated. Appears to be a consulting firm, but I found no record of it anywhere other than the corporate papers with two officers’ names on it. One of them is a lawyer, probably one of those guys who’ll agree to be an officer for a fee. Another is a Graham Mason, age thirty-five. Probably the source of the corporation name. Haven’t had the chance to get the full scoop on him, but he lives in Baltimore and he’s never been arrested.
“The two Pennsylvania cars are registered to individuals who live in Philly, James Roberge and Carl Stilton. These guys you want to watch out for. One conviction for an armed robbery which they pulled off together. Suspected of a dozen others, but not enough evidence to go to trial. They did seven years and then got out early for good behavior four years ago. I have the addresses on file with their parole officers from a year ago when parole ended.”
“That’s awesome, Jimmy, we owe you.”
“You do. I’m partial to Wild Turkey if you’re in the giving mood.”
“I don’t think we’ll make it to D.C. this trip, but the drinks are on me next time I see you.” Dane hung up and looked at Bones. “We have an address. You want to check it out or have lunch first?”
Bones opened his mouth in mock horror. “Blow off lunch just so we can go beat up on some bad guys?”
“Bad guys who tried to kill us,” Dane reminded him.
“Even so, I think they can wait. Man cannot live on revenge alone.”
CHAPTER THREE
“So are you going to be the good cop or the bad cop?” Bones failed to keep the grin off his face.
Dane looked at him. “In what universe could someone who looks like you play the good cop?”
Bones feigned hurt. “Hey man, I’m just a big teddy bear. Okay, so bears can kill you, but still.”
“Don’t worry Bones, I suspect we both get to be the bad cop on this one.”
“Works for me.”
The winter sun was setting and he and Bones stood on the sidewalk a block from the last known address of James Roberge. Roberge’s car had been one of the four chasing them, so this was their best lead. Assuming Roberge still owned the car and assuming he still lived here.
Bones said, “What’s the plan? Guy like this isn’t going to just open the door when we knock.”
“Who says we’re going to knock?”
Dane’s spine vibrated as Bones slapped him on the back. “All right, Maddock. You’ll be just like me in no time. So we going to bash the door in?”
Dane chuckled. “I was thinking I just open the door. Ex-con like this probably doesn’t bother locking it. And if it’s locked, I just take out my knife and perform surgery on the door jamb.”
Bones looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You keep using the word ‘I.’ What do you expect Tonto to do while you’re playing Lone Ranger?”
Bones liked to make jokes about his Native American heritage, seeming to enjoy the discomfort it caused for anyone within earshot, but Dane was getting used to it. “You’re going to cover the back. In fact, let’s check it out now.”
They rounded the corner of the five-story building and found a narrow dead-end alley. Rickety metal fire escape ladders rose from ten feet above the ground to the top of the building, one about every fifteen feet.
“So you want me to hang out here in the dark and pound him if he tries to leave by the back door?”
“You could just subdue him; we need him to talk, remember? Only thing is it would be good if we knew which fire escape was his.”
“Well he’s apartment 401, right? Means he’s gotta be one end or the other. The numbers on the street are going up the way we came, so I’ll bet it’s this one.” Bones approached the first ladder and easily tested a jump to reach it. Dane looked at him.
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Then you’d better hope whoever you’re breaking in on is fully dressed. Unless it’s a hot chick. Then you ought to stay a while.” Bones scratched his chin. “Better yet, tell her to wait a minute and yell for me.”
Dane shook his head. “Just keep your eyes open.”
He walked around to the front door and went inside. The building didn’t look like a total dump, but it wasn’t the kind of place with a doorman or security, either. His nostrils picked up an aroma of lemon mixed with decay, the cleaning solution obviously not managing to stem the tide.
The stairs lay dead ahead and he made his way to the fourth floor, keeping his steps light and quiet. Once there, he established that Bones had been correct and apartment 401 was on the nearer end of the building. Despite what he had said earlier, Dane knocked on the door.
He thought he heard some sort of movement, but he couldn’t be sure. The door didn’t open. He knocked again after a few seconds; then he turned the handle and eased it open.
He took a step inside and caught a glimpse of something flying through the air towards his head. His dodge meant it struck him in the ear instead of the center of his face. The momentum of the object combined with his quick move sent him sideways onto his knees.
Snapping his head up, he noticed two things: First, the object that had struck him was an unopened bottle of Budweiser. He made a mental note not to tell Bones he got taken out by what his comrade considered “redneck beer.” Second was a figure dressed in jeans and a gray sweatshirt halfway out an open window on the far side of the apartment.
Dane sprang to his feet and moved towards the window. He heard a high pitched scream followed by a thud and the sound of creaking metal. He poked his head out the window, ready to pull it back in quickly if he was attacked. He needn’t have worried.
Bones stood with his arms crossed and one foot on the rusted fourth floor landing of the fire escape. The other foot rested on the neck of the man in the gray sweatshirt, a man about Dane’s height whose thin neck looked tiny under Bones’ size thirteen boot.
“Yo, does he look subdued?”
Dane grinned. “Yes. Yes he does. I hope you didn’t have to exert yourself too much.”