"You sonofabitch," she said. Then a realization came to her eyes. "You're wearing a wire?"
"No. I like you too much. But the thing is, I can't trust you. Not completely. I thought about going down to the Islands with you and decided I couldn't. I'd eventually talk to you about this, and then…" He let the thought dangle, and so did she. He went on: "I tried to think up a lie that would get me back to Minnesota. But I couldn't think of one. And I wanted to tell you why."
"Well. I appreciate it. But you'd have been safe enough. A matchbook is pretty thin…"
"There was more than a matchbook. This whole goddamned episode was a game set up by O'Dell. It was so beautiful it makes me laugh. He used every one of us. But anyway-he did a computer run on the victims. You come up way too often. That was a big piece."
She frowned. "Will they get me?"
"No, I don't think so. They think you're an alarm." He explained, and she listened quietly, staring at the floor.
"And you won't tell them different?" she asked, when he finished.
"No. I'm the one who sold them the alarm idea."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "You're a friend."
She looked him over for a moment and then nodded. "Okay."
"If Lily ever found out, though, she very well might kill you. That's another reason I wanted to talk…"
"Did she kill Kennett?" Fell blurted.
"Kennett? No, no, she was downtown with O'Dell all evening."
"Goddamn," Fell said, gnawing a thumbnail. "When I shot Bekker…"
"Bekker knew you," Lucas said. "And that's why, in his letter, he wouldn't say anything about Thin. He didn't want people thinking about women killers…"
"Yeah," Fell said. "But that's not why I shot him. I shot him because of their eyelashes, and that woman… and everything."
"I know. I mean, I believe it. But why Petty?"
"I didn't want to do Petty," Fell said, voice low, out of gas. "I was there, but I tried to stop it."
"You didn't have to be there…"
"Well… I was. If I'd had a couple of more minutes, I think I would've talked… the other guy out of it. But Petty came through the door a minute too soon. A minute later and nothing would've happened. At least, not then. Petty had something on us… I'll burn in hell for Petty."
"I doubt it," Lucas said wryly.
"Well, so do I," she said. Then: "I would've liked the Islands, though. Going down with you."
"Yeah, it would have been nice. But I'm the only one who knows about you. You're quick with that gun… and you might start thinking about it, if I'm there, laying around."
"I wouldn't," she said, but she couldn't suppress a small grin. "It's interesting that you're scared of me, though."
"Yeah, well…"
She sighed. "Fucking trouser-snake cops. So goddamned treacherous."
"And I wanted to tell you about Lily," he said.
"What?"
"She's got a line on a half-dozen of Kennett's shooters. She's gonna be tough, one way or another. But I want you to know two things: they've got no proof of anything. They just want it to stop."
"What's the other thing?"
"The other thing is, if anybody takes Lily, I'll be coming back to town," he said. He'd been watching her, and his eyes had gone hard as granite.
"You oughta be one of us," she said.
"Pass the word on," he said.
"I don't know anybody, except my… pal… and one other guy. But I'll tell them. Maybe they know more. We don't talk about it. That was one of Kennett's rules. Nobody talks about nothin', he'd say."
"Good rule," Lucas said. He looked at his watch again. "Lily's coming pretty soon."
"Here?"
"Yeah, I've got to talk to her too."
"Then I better get going," Fell said, picking up her purse. She stood and stepped away from the table, then turned back. "Remember when you said something like, 'This place is the armpit of the universe,' the first day we were together?"
"Yeah?"
"Kennett's people… we were just trying to make it something else."
"Okay."
"Were we wrong?"
He thought about it for a while. "I don't know," he said finally.
Fell went away and Lucas stared at his beer bottle, making wet O's on the table. After the shooting in the basement, after the dictated statements and interrogations, after the press conference, he'd gone back to the team office. Most of the office staff had gone, but he'd found a computer adept, and said that he needed to look up some information on a couple of cops: Jeese and Clemson.
The computer operator had put him at a vacant terminal, showed him how to call up the files. He'd done it, read through them quickly, then punched in Fell's name. When he'd gotten the file, he'd scanned through to the bottom, found the next of kin: Roy Fell, at an address in Brooklyn. He'd punched in Roy Fell. A file had come up. Retired, it said. Then: Retrieve Retired File? (Y/N).
Lucas had pushed the Y key. A photoscan was a simple matter of selecting the right option on a short menu, and Fell's father's face had come up. Heavy face, gray hair, gray mustache, a smile that looked almost painful. Six feet, two inches tall. Born 1930. Bekker had had him pegged almost exactly.
"Thick," Lucas had said aloud.
The computer operator said, "What?"
"Nothing," said Lucas, and he'd shut the terminal down.
Sitting at the airport now, drawing circles with the bottom of his beer bottle, Lucas thought, You can't walk away from family…
Lily arrived ten minutes later. Like Fell, she stopped by the security queue, looking for the bar. She saw him as she came in, her face ashen, tired, but controlled.
"You talked to O'Dell," she said as she sat down.
"Yeah."
"He fixed the whole thing."
"Yup."
"When did you know?" she asked.
"In Charleston. I suspected before that-everybody was too close together, everything was too convenient. But I didn't know for sure that he wasn't Robin Hood."
"Do you still think Fell was an alarm?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. Not positive. But I think she was simply set up by Kennett. I mean, she took those Robin Hoods at Bekker's place. She didn't have to: her piece was right in my ear."
"The word is going around that Robin Hood did get Bekker."
"What'd you expect? He got shot to death."
Lily sat for a moment, staring at the fake grain on the tabletop. "When did you know about Dick?" she asked.
"O'Dell tried to set him up-that thing about a white-haired guy killing the politician. I didn't know it was a setup, so even then, I was thinking about him."
"But when…?"
"When we went to Petty's apartment and that Logan woman said whoever came to Petty's apartment seemed to stop before he got to the elevator, and after he got off the elevator, and to take a long time getting to the door…"
"Sure," she said, avoiding his eyes. "Dick."
"Yeah, but I couldn't figure it. I assumed he couldn't drive-that's what everybody assumed-and saw a driver dropping him off at Midtown South. And if he couldn't drive, it wasn't him. If he'd been driven, by Copland or one of his other buddies, he wouldn't have had to walk up all those steps himself. He could have sent the driver in for the stuff. So that pushed me off him for a while. Until the day on the river and you told me that he could drive. That he sometimes drove the four-by-four, and it pissed you off…"
"So," she said. "I not only betrayed Petty, I betrayed Dick."
"Ah, come on, Lily, stop sniveling. You were doing the best you could in a goddamned rat's nest," Lucas said.
"And everybody winds up dead," she said.
"Hey." There wasn't much else to say. Lucas looked at his Rolex. "I gotta go. They're probably boarding the plane now," he said.
At the end of the security queue, Lucas faced her, hands in his pockets, and said, "If this was a movie, there'd be a big hot kiss right here and everything'd be all right."
She had eyes that Rembrandt would have painted. "But there's never anything after a movie," she said. "It ends with a hot kiss and you never see the going-back-to-work part."