Gurney could see, even through the man’s tinted glasses, a new excitement in his gaze.
Valdez spoke up for the first time—in a softly menacing voice. “The word ‘serpent’ means also a sly or treacherous person, a person who exploits a position of trust. I wonder, Mr. Gurney, are you a sly or treacherous person?”
“Absolutely not. I believe in putting my cards on the table. I have nothing to hide. I never lie.” He was trying his best to sound like a panicked liar.
“You never twist the truth to get what you want?”
“No. That would be lying. And I hate liars.”
“So do I, Mr. Gurney. I wonder, have you ever exploited a position of trust?”
“No, never! I’m not a . . . a sneak. I hate sneaks.”
“But I think you want to exploit my trust in you.”
“No, no, I would never—”
“Shut your fucking mouth! You interrupt me again, I’ll cut your fucking tongue out, you piece of shit!”
Gurney blinked in shock. He didn’t have to fake his frightened reaction. The explosion of animal fury in Valdez’s voice and eyes was all too believable.
When Valdez went on, it was in a voice as chillingly calm as his father’s. “I think you only want money from me, while you pretend to want only the truth. You say I am in legal danger, but this danger can be made to go away, if I give you enough money. I think this legal danger is bullshit, but your demand for money is real.”
Gurney stayed quiet, letting his expression alone convey fear.
Valdez responded to Gurney’s silence with a horrible smile. “It would be good for you to make your confession to me, while there is still time.”
Gurney stammered, “I . . . I have nothing . . . nothing to confess.”
Valdez shrugged. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
The man behind the desk said, “Perhaps he will change his mind. Victor, the herpetarium lights, please.”
The guard flipped a switch on the concrete wall, and the area behind the glass on the opposite side of the room was illuminated. Turning toward it, Gurney saw what appeared to be an enclosed jungle. His attention was drawn first to the drooping leaves of the tropical plants, glistening with droplets of water. Then he caught a glimpse of movement on the dark soil under one of the lush plants. A long acid-green snake with ebony eyes was gliding slowly toward a corner of the enclosure where a small tan rabbit was twitching in obvious terror.
“She will swallow it whole, very slowly,” said the man behind the desk. “Did you know that rabbits can scream?”
Gurney had a clear recollection of being given that disturbing piece of information by Valdez the evening the beheaded rabbit appeared in his Outback.
His attention was drawn to movements in other areas of the enclosure. He was only a few feet away from more snakes than he’d ever seen in any zoo—snakes of all sizes and colors, moving, coiling, uncoiling, raising their heads, testing the air with their flicking tongues.
“I can see you are impressed, Mr. Gurney. But the best is yet to come.” The man opened the center drawer of the desk, took out something the size of a garage door opener, and pointed it toward the herpetarium. The glass wall began rising through a slot in the ceiling until it disappeared. A flood of warm, humid air filled the room with a sweet-rotten smell of decay.
As Gurney watched with increasing alarm, an enormous yellow snake emerged from beneath the rank, dripping vegetation. The creature glided forward, first across the soil of the enclosure, then out onto the floor of the room itself, its massive body moving slowly toward him in a long, loose, S-shaped curve.
“The most beautiful animal on earth,” said the man behind the desk. His voice had a purring quality as disconcerting as the snake’s approach. “Not only beautiful, but sensitive. She wraps herself around you, and while she is doing that, she is listening. Listening to your heartbeat. She tightens herself around you, focused on the beating of your heart. She hugs you even tighter. So tight you can’t breathe. Tighter and tighter, crushing your veins, your arteries. Tighter and tighter until there is no more heartbeat. Until there is only silence. That is how she knows you are dead. The silence of your heart gives you away. Imagine that Mr. Gurney—a creature that listens for your heart to stop, so she will know you are dead. So she can devour you.”
As if responding on cue, the gigantic snake reached Gurney’s tethered ankle, its weight passing over his foot, as it began to coil itself around his leg. Its weight was as shocking as its scarlet eyes. Its girth was nearly that of a man’s thigh.
“What do you want from me?” cried Gurney, easily managing to sound petrified.
“Nothing, Mr. Gurney. Nothing at all.”
“This is crazy! I’ve done nothing to harm you. Nothing!”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
As the creature continued coiling itself around Gurney’s leg, rising higher, its weight began to affect his balance. As he staggered in a desperate effort to remain upright, he caught sight of a second snake, larger than the first, emerging from under the wet foliage. As it moved toward him, the one that already had him in its grip had risen above his leg and was wrapping itself around his hips. He twisted himself around to face Valdez, Valdez’s father, and the linebacker with the Uzi.
“You can have whatever you want! Just name it!”
Valdez’s father folded his hands on the desk and produced a glazed smile. “Peace of mind, Mr. Gurney. That’s all. Just peace of mind.”
Despite Gurney’s frantic efforts to stop it, the snake was wrapping itself around his midsection and moving higher. Valdez was looking at Gurney with a mixed expression of satisfaction and hatred. He leaned down toward his father and said something Gurney couldn’t hear. His father continued watching for another long minute before opening the center drawer of the desk and handing Valdez a 9mm Sig Sauer.
Thank God, thought Gurney, who’d begun to fear that the plan he and Valdez had devised would fail. But the key goal had finally been achieved. Valdez was armed and could deal with his unsuspecting father and the man with the Uzi.
But instead of doing so, he came out from behind the desk and, with a vicious smile, walked across the floor to a spot a few feet from Gurney. He slowly raised the pistol with a rock-steady hand until the barrel was on a direct line with Gurney’s heart.
Gurney could feel the blood draining from his face as his mind was filled with the horrible, despairing conclusion that the greatest—and last—mistake of his life had been to trust Emma Martin’s opinion of Valdez.
Valdez pulled the trigger.
The muzzle blast in the concrete room was deafening.
74
GURNEY STAGGERED IN SHOCK AT THE SOUND OF THE shot. But he remained standing—stunned and confused.
Valdez stared at him, appearing not to comprehend what had happened. He stared at the pistol, then turned to his father with a look of angry bafflement.
“What the fuck is going on?”
The man gestured to the pistol. “Bring it to me.”
Valdez walked to the desk and handed it over.
His father ejected the magazine, inserted a new one from the desk drawer, and handed the weapon back to Valdez.
“Try again.”
Valdez walked back to his position in front of Gurney and aimed again at his heart. This time, instead of a sadistic smile, he gave Gurney a small nod, then whirled around toward the desk and fired a rapid series of shots, smashing the guard with the Uzi against the wall and his father against his chair, upending it onto the floor.
He pivoted back to Gurney, put a point-blank shot in the head of the giant snake, blowing half of it away, and a shot in Gurney’s ankle restraint, severing it. He handed the Sig to Gurney. “Seventeen shot magazine, ten left, you’ll need them.”