Again, Loomis ignored it.
“Yes, I’m sure that’s enough time,” he said.
“At three-thirty sharp, then, I want you and the cop and the case to go down to the limo,” the caller said. “And I want you to drive the limo out of the garage and onto the River Highway heading toward the Hamilton Bridge. Have you got that, too?”
“Yes.”
“Repeat it.”
“River Highway to the Hamilton Bridge.”
“Who’s with you in the car?”
“A detective.”
“Andthe case. Don’t forget the case with the money.”
“Second tower’s on him.”
“Cingular wireless this time. Getting the number now.”
“Come on, come on,” Endicott said.
“Youdrive, Mr. Loomis. The cop rides shotgun. Tell him to wear a holstered weapon. Have you got all that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Three-thirty sharp. I’ll call you again in the car at a quarter to four. Any questions so far?”
“Yes. When will we get Tam…?”
“All in good time. But listen to this, Mr. Loomis, and whoever else is listening.”
Endicott nodded sourly.
“There are three of us. Two of us will be picking up the cash, while our friend stays with the girl. If there is any sign of police activity at the site, the girl gets killed. If anyone tries to follow us from the site, the girl gets killed. If you try to arrest us after we pick up the cash, the girl gets killed. The girl is our hole card, do you understand? We’re showing you the hole card now, so you won’t try to bet her life on a losing hand. Tell me you understand everything. Especially about the girl getting killed if there are any tricks.”
“Yes, I understand everything,” Loomis said.
“Keep him on.”
“Especially about the girl getting killed.”
“Especially about Tamar getting killed.”
“Keep him on!”
“Good,” the caller said, and hung up abruptly.
“Damn it, we were almost there.”
“Why do you suppose he wants a cop tagging along?” Forbes asked.
“Peculiar, isn’t it?” Endicott said.
“Last thing he should want is a cop.”
“Anarmed cop, no less.”
“You want this number?” one of the agents asked. “It’s a lady in Riverhead.”
“Move on it,” Corcoran told Feingold. “But it’ll be another stolen phone, wait and see.”
“He’s so damn sure of himself,” Endicott said.
“Well, he’s got the girl,” Corcoran said, “you heard him. She’s his hole card.” He hesitated only a moment, and then said, “I’ll go with you, Mr. Loomis,” and was actually putting on his jacket when Loomis said, “No.”
They all turned to look at him.
“I want Detective Carella,” he said.
9
THE CELL PHONEin the car rang at precisely three-forty-five, just as Barney Loomis was driving past the Buford Park exit on the River Harb Highway.
Carella picked up the phone, hit the SEND button.
“Hello?” he said.
“Who’s this?” Avery asked.
“Detective Carella,” he said.
“What’s your first name, Detective?”
“Steve.”
“Would you mind if I called you ‘Steve’?”
“Not at all.”
“I have trouble with Italian names, you see.”
And fuck you, too, Carella thought.
“Steve, is Mr. Loomis driving?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is there anyone else in the car with you?”
“No, sir.”
“Is this the only phone in the car?”
“Yes, sir.”
This was a lie. Carella had another cell phone in the side pocket on the right side of his windbreaker.
“Is it portable?”
“Sir?”
“Can it be taken out of the car?”
“Oh. Yes, sir, it can.”
“Let me talk to Mr. Loomis.”
Carella handed the phone to him.
“Hello?” Loomis said.
“Mr. Loomis, I want you to drive to Exit 17. That should take you ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Make a right turn at the top of the ramp. You’ll see a parking area for people who are sharing rides. Park there and wait. I’ll call again at four o’clock.”
There was a click on the line.
Loomis put down the phone.
“What’d he say?” Carella asked.
“Exit 17, park there and wait for his next call.”
The cell phone in Carella’s pocket rang. He yanked it out, hit the TALK button.
“Hello?” he said.
“Carella? This is Lieutenant Corcoran.”
“Yes, sir,” Carella said.
Back at the Academy, it used to be “Steve” and “Corky.” Now it was “Carella” and “Lieutenant Corcoran.”
“Have you heard anything yet?” Corcoran asked.
“Yes, sir, he just called.”
“What’d he say?”
“He wants us to…”
“What are you doing?” Loomis asked at once.
Carella turned to look at him, puzzled.
“What thehell are you doing?” Loomis shouted.
“Hold it a second,” Carella said into the phone, and turned to Loomis again. “Corcoran wants to know…”
“Give me that phone!” Loomis snapped and held out his right hand.
“Wants to talk to you, Lieutenant,” Carella said, and passed the phone to him.
“Lieutenant Corcoran?” Loomis said. “You listen to me,Lieutenant Corcoran. Are you fuckingcrazy? These people told us they’re going to kill Tamar if we try any tricks. I consider telling you where we’re going—and Christ knows what else you’ve got planned for the next few minutes—isexactly what they warned us about, it’s playing tricks. I don’t want you trying to find our location, I don’t want you sending in the fucking Marines, I just want to drop off the money and await further instructions, have you got that, Lieutenant Corcoran?” Loomis listened. “Yes, Lieutenant,” he said, “I am perfectly willing to take responsibility for whatever may happen to Tamar. So don’t call this number again, and don’t call the number in the car, and I hope to God you haven’t got anyone following us right this minute,” he said, glancing in the rear view mirror. “Because if anything happens to that girl, I will personally cut off your balls. Is that clear, Lieutenant Corcoran?” Loomis listened again. “Good. No more goddamntricks! ” he said, and nodded curtly, and handed the phone back to Carella.
“Hello?” Carella said. “Yes, I heard.” He listened. “Okay,” he said, “we play it his way. See you later,” he said, and hit the END button, and tossed the phone over his shoulder onto the back seat.
“I don’t like that man,” Loomis said. “I don’t likeany of them up there, you want the truth, Corcoran least of all. He’s too full of his own perfume.”
Carella said nothing.
“None of them on that task force has any concept that we’re dealing with a human life here,” Loomis said.
“Well, I think they know that, Mr. Loomis.”
“This is all one big game to them. The good guys and the bad guys. Never mind that the kidnappers spelled it all out, exposed their hole card, told us exactly what was at stake. It’s still all cops and robbers to them, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Loomis. But we’ll play it your way,” Carella said. “And hope for the best.”
They were approaching Exit 15 now. Loomis kept looking on and off into the rear view mirror, checking to see if anyone was following. Carella was wondering if maybe it wasn’t really all cops and robbers, after all.
That day long ago, it had been cops and robbers, all right, three real cops and three real robbers. The robbers were coming out of a bank on Twelfth and Culver, which was on Carella’s beat, and not too far from the station house. At the same time, a patrolman named Oscar Jackson was taking a five-minute break to run into the bank to cash his paycheck from last Friday while his partner, Patrolman Jimmy Ryan, sat at the wheel of their idling cruiser, which he’d just pulled into the curb outside the bank.