Выбрать главу

Fulton nodded. "Yeah, but I still don't like this. It's too dangerous."

"So is Jamys Kellagh. We had to lure the tiger out of his cave."

"Yeah, but I don't like using you as the sacrificial goat."

Karp and Fulton walked along the path that followed the river, as had been arranged. Up ahead, they saw a tall figure step into the light beneath a streetlamp.

"Looks like him," Karp said.

"Looks like somebody else we know, too, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah, except I'm a lot better-looking."

As they approached the tall man, Karp glanced around. With all the bushes and trees, there were a lot of places for assassins to hide. He noticed that two bums-one on a bench and the other against the seawall-were sleeping near where the tall man was standing. Dangerous for them, too, he thought, but there was no time to worry about it now.

"Mr. Karp," the tall man said, stepping forward with his hand extended.

"Mr. Karchovski," Karp replied. "You have something for me?"

"Yes," Ivgeny Karchovski said, handing him a large manila envelope.

"I'll take that," said another voice.

The three men turned to see Jon Ellis stepping out of the shadows with a gun drawn and pointing at them.

Karchovski started to turn as if to run, but put his hands up as other men also stepped out of the shadows with guns. He turned to Karp and snarled, "You betrayed me! I'll get you for this, Karp!"

Karp scowled and turned to Ellis. "I thought you were going to stay back and only show if I gave you the signal."

Ellis laughed. "What, hoot twice like an owl? You really are an idiot, Mr. Karp. But look at it this way, Myr shegin dy ve, bee eh. In case that brat daughter of yours, who by the way is simply going to have to disappear one of these days, hasn't told you, that means 'What must be, will be.' And what must be is a finish to your annoying habit of getting in our way."

Karp's jaw dropped. "Jamys Kellagh," he guessed.

Ellis gave a slight bow. "My nom de guerre, or one of them," he said. "But I prefer my anonymity, so if you will hand over the photograph, I'll make sure it never sees the light of day."

He reached for the envelope, but Karp pulled it back. "How do you live with yourself?" he asked.

Ellis was at first surprised and then amused. "I sleep like a baby, Mr. Karp," he replied. "There is a war going on and people die in wars."

"Is that what you call murdering schoolchildren to free a man like Andrew Kane? War?"

Ellis shrugged. "Collateral damage. It happens. Get over it, or you should have if you'd wanted to live. And what does it matter if a half dozen kids die, if it prevents the mud people, like your friend Clay here, and Jews, like yourself, and all those prehistoric Arabs from overrunning Western civilization?"

"But you're working with the terrorists?"

"A temporary measure," Ellis said with a shrug. "We will eventually, as the saying goes, 'bomb them back into the Stone Age.' But until then, we need them as the bogeymen. Every time they blow up something, Western democracy slides a little closer to our side of the political spectrum."

"So you're a fascist creep, too?" Karp chided.

"Now, now, name-calling is not nice." Ellis laughed. "We prefer thinking of ourselves as the true patriots. After all, this country was founded by white men."

"White men who created the Constitution so that all men could be free," Karp replied.

"And many of them had slaves," Ellis pointed out. "But let's not argue history. We believe the means are justified. We will do what's best for the American people…white American people. It's people like you who endanger this country, so we'll protect Americans from themselves and you."

Shaking his head, Karp replied, "Jon, you got it all backward. And when chicken-shit traitors like you get it wrong, you really get it wrong. And besides, who's going to protect the country from you?"

Ellis looked amused. "Why, no one, Mr. Karp. There will be no bleeding hearts, or constitutional apologists, to lead us all down the road to ruin." He pointed the gun at Karp's face. "But enough of this; give me the photograph."

"Why?" Karp said, holding the manila envelope over the water. "You have to kill us anyway. Maybe somebody finds this photograph in the river-I sealed it in a plastic bag-and takes it to the police. Why should I make it easy for you?"

"Oh, please, Butch, killing you is going to be very easy any way you look at it," Ellis said with a smile. "For one thing, you're a fucking Jew, and Hitler had the right idea about fucking Jews. And as for your Russian friend, they'll probably give me a medal for killing the gangster who lured you here and shot you in cold blood. I arrived too late to save you, or Clay for that matter, but I got the man who got you. Maybe Marlene will be real grateful. She's still pretty good-looking for her age."

Karp's shoulders sagged as he handed Ellis the envelope. "Check it out," he said.

"Oh, I will," Ellis replied, and glanced inside the envelope. He looked back up with a scowl. "What is this, Karp?" He reached inside the envelope and pulled out the yearbook photographs of six children.

"Those are the kids you had murdered," Karp said. "I wanted to show them to you before Clay placed you under arrest."

Ellis's face transformed instantly into a mask of rage and hate. "Fuck you, Karp," he said, and started to raise his gun, but then began to shake violently as the gun clattered to the sidewalk. He collapsed to the ground, where he twitched and then lay still.

At the same time, the men with Ellis who'd started to rush forward to help him were suddenly surrounded by other men with guns, shouting for them to drop their weapons. Karp turned to the bum behind him, who kept a Taser pointed at Ellis. "Cutting it a little close, weren't you, Espey?" he said.

"You said to wait until he saw the photographs and admitted to the murders," Jaxon said with a smile. "I had him in my sights the whole time."

Karp shook his head. That afternoon, when he met with Jaxon and explained the plan, the agent asked, "Why not me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't you think I'm the traitor, Jamys Kellagh?" Jaxon said. "Lucy does. There are plenty of good reasons to think it could be."

"And don't think I haven't considered them," Karp said with a smirk. "But there are a few better reasons why I know it wasn't you."

"Such as?"

"Well, let's start with Stupenagel's stories," Karp said. "I'll bet you're the anonymous government source who's been leaking her the information."

"Damn straight."

"Uh-huh," Karp said, then laughed. "It's probably something you don't even think about, but you've been saying 'Damn straight' ever since I've known you."

"So?"

"So Stupenagel is pretty good at quoting people verbatim," Karp said. "I noticed in three of her stories that the 'anonymous government source' kept ending his quotes by saying 'Damn straight.'"

"Pretty flimsy," Jaxon pointed out.

"On its own, maybe," Karp acknowledged. "But I also asked Clay to get me the tapes of the attempted assassination of Senator Tom McCullum from Channel Nine. They almost didn't let him have them, kept saying they wouldn't release anything that hadn't been shown on television, and even then only if they got subpoenaed. But Clay placed a call to the traffic division and started to tell them about all the illegally parked cars outside the station, and suddenly he had a tape."

"Again, my question, so what?"

"So Clay and I watched them a couple of dozen times, and we noticed something," Karp said. "When the shooting started, Ellis just stood to the side and watched McCullum, as if he expected him to get shot. But one 'former' FBI agent, named Espey Jaxon, jumped in front of the archbishop-the man he was supposed to protect-and it was one of your men who charged the gunman. Not exactly the behavior of co-conspirators."