The Bricklayer - Boyd Noah. Страница 33
Salton took three quick strides toward the bedroom and opened up, firing full automatic, low through the door in case Vail had hit the floor. And if he was still standing, the raking burst would take his legs out from under him. After firing all thirty rounds in the magazine, he slammed in a second clip and moved to the door. Raising the weapon to his shoulder, he kicked open the door. The room was empty and the bars on the window had been swung open.
Behind him, Salton heard Vail’s voice. “You would think that if there was one person who wouldn’t fall for that it would be you.”
Vail watched Salton’s neck muscles tighten with decision and knew what was coming next. Salton started to turn, firing before he could see Vail, hoping that the spraying rounds would cause the agent to take cover.
Vail stood his ground and fired one shot, hitting Salton in the side of the head just above the ear. The machine gun went silent and Salton’s lifeless body hit the floor. Vail moved to the wall next to the front window and peered out carefully, looking for the Honda. He could see it now. It had moved up to where the Dodge had been sitting.
After a few seconds, the silence was interrupted by a cell phone ringing. Vail patted down Salton’s body and found the phone. He answered “Yeah” as anonymously as possible.
“Did you get him?”
Vail was surprised by the matter-of-factness of the voice. “Yeah,” Vail answered, trying to keep the single syllable unrecognizable.
There was a hesitation and then the voice ordered, “Say something else.”
Vail knew he had been discovered. “Looks like you’re going to need new business cards. I’m thinking something like the Quartet Rubaco, or the Rubaco Tetrad has a nice ring to it, you know, for continuity, since the Pentad has been reduced by one member. Personally—”
The line went dead. Vail moved back to the window and watched as the Honda turned around in a driveway and disappeared from sight. He dialed the office on Salton’s phone and looked down at the body. “Don’t worry, it’s a local call.”
When Kate answered, he told her what had happened. She started to ask a question, but he cut her off, telling her there was at least one more member of the gang in the area, and then hung up.
He turned back to the man he had just killed. Rolling him over, he searched his pockets. He didn’t have a wallet, but he did have a thick wad of hundred-dollar bills in one of his front pants pockets. He was wearing a black turtleneck, not a logical garment for such a hot L.A. day. Vail pulled down the neck, revealing a tattoo that was hidden just beneath the collar. The faded letters said at your own risk. Tiny drops of blood in red ink dripped from the letters. The quality, Vail knew, was jailhouse. He pushed up one of the sleeves, revealing more tattoos of institutional inferiority. He was about the right height and weight of the individual who had fired at him the day before. Even though he was dead, there was still something about him, some kind of potential for violence. It was the eyes, Vail decided. They were still open and full of hate.
Vail walked out to the car, which was still idling. The front and back seats were empty. He reached in and turned off the ignition, taking the keys. Watching the street in case the Honda returned, he opened the trunk. A heavy cardboard box was the only thing inside. It was bigger than a large suitcase, tightly sealed with nylon filament tape. Vail took out his lock-back knife and slit along the seams. Packed in heavy-gauge plastic and wrapped with the same tape were neat stacks of banded hundred-dollar bills.
EIGHTEEN
KAULCRICK AND KATE ARRIVED IN THE SAME CAR. VAIL WAS HALF sitting, half leaning against the Dodge’s trunk. “You okay, Steve?” she asked before she was all the way out of the vehicle.
“I’m good.” Kaulcrick didn’t say anything but just looked at him. Vail pointed down, indicating that the assistant director should look in the trunk.
Once he did, he said, “Do you know how much is in there?”
“From its weight, I’d say roughly three million.”
Kate said, “What happened?”
Vail explained how he thought he was being followed when he dropped her off at the federal building. He didn’t mention that he had first noticed the sedan when they had left Spring Street. He explained how the confrontation between him and the dead man inside had happened.
After closing the trunk, Vail led the three of them into the house. Kaulcrick squatted over the body. “Any idea who he is?”
“I gave him a quick pat; I couldn’t find anything. He isn’t a domestic terrorist. Check his neck and arms. That’s institutional ink.”
Other FBI cars along with LAPD started arriving, shutting down their sirens as they got out. Kaulcrick said, “Kate explained about Stan Bertok, which I was having a hard time believing until you called with this. So all of this was a straight-up extortion.”
“A lot of colored smoke and strobing lights, but that would be my guess. And this guy is about the right size for Bertok’s stand-in yesterday.”
“Was he acting alone?” Kaulcrick asked.
“I don’t think so. There was a second car following me.”
“You’re sure?”
“We had a brief telephone conversation when he thought he was talking to his co-worker here. Sounded like he was the guy giving orders.”
“Well, we know it wasn’t Pendaran. Surveillance just found him coming out of the same massage parlor. Which doesn’t mean that he isn’t part of this.”
“There’s still two million dollars missing,” Vail said. “Somebody’s got it. And unfortunately, it isn’t us.”
“We’ll get this man fingerprinted and find out then who he and his friends are. Kate, take Steve back to the office so he can give his statement regarding the shooting. Give her your gun, Steve.” Vail handed it over and knew it would be gone until the investigation of the killing was completed.
When they went out to the car, Kate insisted on driving, which Vail took as not being a good sign. Once they were on the freeway, she said, “So, you first noticed we were being followed when?” Her tone indicated she knew the answer.
“I thought—possibly—we were being tailed when we left the house.”
“So you’re back to not trusting me.”
“What exactly is it that you think you missed out on?”
“I’m sure I would have been scared to death. Maybe that’s what I missed out on.”
“This case isn’t some little hothouse laboratory to see where your limits are. These animals have murdered five people so far, two of which were FBI agents. They just tried to make it three. And I’ve got a feeling they’re not done yet.”
“I can handle it.”
“You probably can, but I don’t want to be there if you can’t. You told me I do this because I can, because I’m built for it.”
“Am I that big a liability?”
“For me, everyone’s a liability. Do you think if you were in that bank with me, I would have done what I did? Instead of throwing caution to the wind, I’d be worried about you getting hurt. I can’t handle that kind of responsibility. No faces, remember?”
“What do you want me to do, sign a waiver? I need to know that I can do this. Not like you, but that my career hasn’t been some illusion fueled by affirmative action or because men find me attractive.”
Vail closed his eyes and leaned his head back onto the rest. After a few moments to let the immediacy of their emotions dissolve, he said, “Without looking at the mirrors, Kate, tell me if we’re being followed.” She looked over at him and, seeing his eyes closed, stole a glance at the rearview mirror, searching the highway behind them. Although he still hadn’t opened his eyes, she suspected that he knew she had looked. He said, “Are you still sure you want all the way in?”