Joseph said, “What about we call this list something mysterious? Give it a name.”
Karpankov suggested, “I have an idea. How about the October List?”
Gabriela nodded. “Good, I like it. But why that?”
“The wife and I went to the Hofbrau last night, Third Avenue. Thursday’s Oktoberfest night. The best Wiener schnitzel and Sauerbraten in the city. Oktoberfest... October List. Just occurred to me.”
“Perfect. It’s mid-September; I’ll drop clues that whatever’s going to happen’ll happen next month. Now, Joseph, you want this mysterious list. And some money too. Reardon stole four hundred thousand from Peter. But let’s go for five — interest payment.”
The Russian nodded.
“How will you get the cash from them?” Joseph asked.
She considered this for a moment. “Ah, Reardon’ll come up with it for me to pay as the ransom. He’ll hit one of his accounts and cough up the money. Of course, what he’ll really use it for is to pay you — as an incentive to do business with them. Only you can tell them how to best use the October List. They’ll need you for that.”
Joseph too had a thought. “Let’s start out with four hundred thousand, but to add believability maybe you could miss a deadline and I up the ante to five hundred thousand.”
“Yes, I like that.” Her eyes shone. “And when I miss that deadline, you send me something of my daughter’s to show you mean business.” She happened to glance down at her fingernails, which were dark red. “Maybe... I know, a bloody finger.”
“What?” Karpankov blurted.
She gave a smile. “Just from a mannequin or a doll. Get some fake blood. Or buy a bloody steak.”
Joseph nodded, as if this were the most logical idea in the world.
She continued to him, “We’ll play it out till Sunday night. You pick a target zone — a safe house somewhere — and arrange to meet them. When they show up, you kill them.”
Joseph considered this. “I’ve got a warehouse in SoHo I’m just about finished with. I’ll use that. They think I’ve kidnapped your daughter, right? The place has a room in the back. I’ll put on some kids’ videos in there. When they go to check it out and open the door, I’ll take care of them from behind.” Then he frowned. “But what’ll you tell your captain? If it’s an undercover sting, won’t they be expecting to get evidence, from a wire or something?”
It was a good point but she’d thought that through. “I’ll tell them that you — my CI — went rogue, killed Reardon and the others and stole the money. Then vanished. Nobody trusts CIs anyway. It won’t look too great — a failed operation — but the fact is, my captain won’t be very pissed off. After Reardon’s dead, we’ll search his houses and office; we should be able to close a half-dozen cases he and his crew were behind. And they’ll’ve saved the expense of trial.”
“Brilliant, Gabriela,” Karpankov said reverently.
Tap, tap.
Gabriela added a lengthy row to the shawl she was knitting. She had another thought. “You know, Peter, it would be helpful if it looked like there was someone else after me. It’ll draw Reardon into the set more if he feels there’s another player after the October List too. Make it seem that much more valuable. Any thoughts?”
Now Karpankov, sitting back, was the one scanning the ceiling with his gray-and-gray eyes. “Would it make sense if this person died?”
“Interesting idea,” she replied. “It could work. Why?”
“I’m aware of something.”
“Yes?”
“There’s someone... this piss-ant from Brooklyn. Thinks he’s the Godfather. Hal Dixon. Do you know him?”
“I think I’ve heard the name.”
“He’s been talking about moving into Manhattan and Jersey. I’ve been thinking about taking him out. This could be the chance.”
Gabriela smoothed her skirt as she considered the additional player. She said to Karpankov, “You could meet with Dixon. Tell him you’ve heard that there’s this October List and that I have it. Give him the job to get it. When he comes after me, I’ll make sure nobody can see me and take him out. Afterward, I’ll tell my captain it was Reardon who did it.”
This brought up another thought, and the yarn ended up in her lap. “There’s a personal situation I need to deal with too.”
She squinted slightly as she explained, “I’ve been having some trouble with someone. It goes back a month or so. I’d finished a job and had taken care of the body, but the police were closer than I thought. I ducked into a movie theater and picked up this guy, so we could leave like a couple. It worked. But the problem is, he didn’t go away. It cost me a couple of dates. He’s turned into a bit of a stalker. He spies on me, shows up outside my apartment. He could eventually make the connection that I work for Peter. He’s even taken pictures of me when he thinks I don’t know.” Her lips tugged into a grimace. “He’s pretty sick — he’s got a shoe thing. He starts salivating when he sees me in high heels. Takes pictures of me with his mobile, and always makes sure he gets my shoes in the frame. Damn pervert.” She shrugged. “It would be helpful if he died too.”
Joseph asked, “What’s his name?”
“Frank Walsh.” She described him and added, “Let’s frame Reardon for his murder too.” She resumed knitting. The men looked at the aluminum needles. She got the impression they’d be wondering if she’d ever killed anyone with them. She never had. “I know what would work. After Reardon and I find the list, I’ll arrange to get it to Frank for safekeeping, maybe have it delivered to him. I’ll make sure Reardon’s prints are on the envelope or box or whatever I put it in. Peter, could you arrange for one of your men to be in the building we use for the set? Pretend to be a janitor. I’ll have him deliver it to Frank.”
“Sure. How about Rafael?”
“Yeah, he’s good.” Then she said to Joseph, “After the package is delivered — on Sunday — you go to Frank’s, shoot him and get whatever evidence has Reardon’s prints or DNA on it. So it’ll be at the target zone when you take Reardon and his associates out. But get Frank’s mobile and wipe his hard drive. He’ll have pictures of me on it.”
Joseph nodded. Then he said, “Your associates — the detectives, your captain — they’ll want to run surveillance on you. That could be a problem.”
She grimaced. “I know. Even after I tell them not to, they’ll try to put some eyes on me. I’ll just have to keep it in mind and make sure I lose any tails or electronic snooping.”
Putting down the knitting, Gabriela sat forward. She was pleased with Joseph, liked that he was smart and that he looked back into her eyes so easily, without challenge or timidity or flirt. “Now, before we go any farther, I want to say something: Obviously you’re familiar with movies. You know what method acting is?”
“I’ve heard about it. Don’t really know exactly.”
“It’s when actors mentally and emotionally become the characters they’re playing. For this to work, to fool Reardon and make sure both of us survive, I’m going to be the office manager and single mother I’ve created. Gabriela McKenzie. Gabriela McNamara will cease to exist.”
She didn’t share with Joseph or Karpankov that this would be an all-consuming transformation. She’d move into a different place entirely. She’d repeat the name of her fictional daughter over and over again — aloud and to herself — until the girl came alive. She’d come to believe that if she didn’t deliver the October List and the cash, she’d never see her beloved Sarah again. She’d feel regret at the death of Hal Dixon. At Frank Walsh’s too, even though he was in reality an irritating complication in her life. She’d feel genuine fear the police were after her. And she’d form a real attraction to Reardon, as if they’d mutually picked up each other in the bar, a spark igniting what might turn into a real relationship. She might even fuck him.