Abel Baker Charley (13 page)
“No.”
“Never met the right girl?”
He rolled over and looked at her. ”I did. She was killed.”
“I'm very sorry.”
“I've gotten over it.”
“And whoever killed her, they're after you now? Or are
you after them?”
you after them?”
“No, Tanner.” He turned to sit up. “It's nothing like that.
There isn't any connection between that and anything else.”
It was not quite a lie. Sarah's death had everything to do with what he'd become. But it was no more than the first link in a chain whose pieces seemed to form a circle going
nowhere.
There isn't any connection between that and anything else.”
It was not quite a lie. Sarah's death had everything to do with what he'd become. But it was no more than the first link in a chain whose pieces seemed to form a circle going
nowhere.
“But you loved her?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Is that why you were reluctant to stay with me? You
thought I just wanted a body?” Baker put his fingers to her lips.
thought I just wanted a body?” Baker put his fingers to her lips.
“She's dead and gone, Tanner. One thing has nothing to
do with the other.”
do with the other.”
Tanner Burke was silent for several moments, not think
ing exactly, rather waiting for her emotions to settle and sep
arate. The park was settling fastest. It seemed so distant. But
this man .. . There was something familiar about him. Like they'd met, although she knew they hadn't. It was more as
though they shared the same friend. An odd thought, she
knew. No reason for it. And also, from someplace very far
away, she felt another presence. A terrible presence. For a
moment there, in the bathroom, she almost knew what it
was. But then another man was listening to her... watching
her
...
a man she didn't know
...
but he was familiar too.
Peter? No, it wasn't Peter
...
or Harold or whoever.
ing exactly, rather waiting for her emotions to settle and sep
arate. The park was settling fastest. It seemed so distant. But
this man .. . There was something familiar about him. Like they'd met, although she knew they hadn't. It was more as
though they shared the same friend. An odd thought, she
knew. No reason for it. And also, from someplace very far
away, she felt another presence. A terrible presence. For a
moment there, in the bathroom, she almost knew what it
was. But then another man was listening to her... watching
her
...
a man she didn't know
...
but he was familiar too.
Peter? No, it wasn't Peter
...
or Harold or whoever.
“Peter.” She touched him. “After you . . . leave in the
morning, will I ever see you again?”
morning, will I ever see you again?”
”I don't know. I hope so.”
“Do you feel anything for me?”
“Tanner.. ” The question thrilled Baker, but he could not
show it.
show it.
“I'm sorry. Forget I asked you that.”
”I do feel something. You're a very special woman.”
“How?” she said, fishing.
“You're very accomplished, for one thing.”
She seemed disappointed by the answer. “You mean be
cause I'm an actress? Peter, that doesn't make me special. I
was just a skier who was asked to be in a commercial for ski
clothes. That led to more commercials and then a small TV
part and then some bigger parts. But what I am, still, is a
woman and I'm still a skier too. A good one. If anyone's
going to think I'm special, it ought to be for that.”
cause I'm an actress? Peter, that doesn't make me special. I
was just a skier who was asked to be in a commercial for ski
clothes. That led to more commercials and then a small TV
part and then some bigger parts. But what I am, still, is a
woman and I'm still a skier too. A good one. If anyone's
going to think I'm special, it ought to be for that.”
Baker let out a sigh. ”I wish you'd try to get over being
hung up on that actress business.”
hung up on that actress business.”
”I just didn't want it to matter. I want to see you again.”
“It matters, Tanner,” he said kindly. “If you were a wait
ress or a doctor or a plain girl skier, I know I'd try to see you.
I'd try hard. But like it or not, you're famous. You attract at
tention.”
ress or a doctor or a plain girl skier, I know I'd try to see you.
I'd try hard. But like it or not, you're famous. You attract at
tention.”
“Which you can't afford.” She dropped her eyes to his
chest. Baker did not answer. “What you did,” she asked,
“was it so terrible?”
chest. Baker did not answer. “What you did,” she asked,
“was it so terrible?”
“It was like tonight in some ways. I hurt someone. I
didn't want any part of it, but it happened.”
didn't want any part of it, but it happened.”
She raised her eyes to his face and reached out to brush aside a curl that blocked part of it. It was a good face.
Eyes
that were kind and honest, with tiny lines of humor at their edges. She lifted off his aviator glasses. There was no en
largement when she did that. Glass, she realized. Plain tinted
glass. It had no purpose other than to mute the vivid gray-
green of his eyes. She studied the eyes. There was a scar
near one and another near his chin. One was old, perhaps from boyhood. How hard it was to imagine this ghostlike man as a boy. The other scar was fresh. Perhaps from that
other night he spoke of.
Eyes
that were kind and honest, with tiny lines of humor at their edges. She lifted off his aviator glasses. There was no en
largement when she did that. Glass, she realized. Plain tinted
glass. It had no purpose other than to mute the vivid gray-
green of his eyes. She studied the eyes. There was a scar
near one and another near his chin. One was old, perhaps from boyhood. How hard it was to imagine this ghostlike man as a boy. The other scar was fresh. Perhaps from that
other night he spoke of.
“I've been trying not to ask you about that,” she said. “About the park, I mean. Partly, I guess I just don't want to
think about it. But there's more. I'm looking at a very gen
tle and sensitive man. What I see doesn't fit at all with the
way you hurt those two.”
think about it. But there's more. I'm looking at a very gen
tle and sensitive man. What I see doesn't fit at all with the
way you hurt those two.”
“That wasn't a time for being gentle. This is.” Baker
could see that if the answer didn't satisfy her, the last part
pleased her. For the moment. But tomorrow would be dif
ferent. Tomorrow, she'd look in the New York tabloids for
news of the two men and she'd know what Abel had done to
them. The stories would use words like
maim
and
impale
and
disfigure.
The words describing him would be
maniac
or
beast
or
animal.
It's not that she'd feel pity for those two.
Not with the memory of what they tried to do to her. What
she'd feel would be shock and disgust. And she would be afraid of him. No, he would not try to see her.
could see that if the answer didn't satisfy her, the last part
pleased her. For the moment. But tomorrow would be dif
ferent. Tomorrow, she'd look in the New York tabloids for
news of the two men and she'd know what Abel had done to
them. The stories would use words like
maim
and
impale
and
disfigure.
The words describing him would be
maniac
or
beast
or
animal.
It's not that she'd feel pity for those two.
Not with the memory of what they tried to do to her. What
she'd feel would be shock and disgust. And she would be afraid of him. No, he would not try to see her.
“Will you promise that I'll see you again?”
Her question startled him. “I'll try,” he lied. “I'll look for
a way.”
a way.”
She looked deeply into him for a sign that he meant it.
That he would really try. She saw, she thought, that he
wanted to see her. But she knew he wouldn't try.
That he would really try. She saw, she thought, that he
wanted to see her. But she knew he wouldn't try.
“Then I'll find you, damn
it.” Tanner rose abruptly and stepped away from his reaching hand. She took three quick steps to the chair where his jacket was draped and snatched
the American Airlines envelope from his pocket. She opened
it with a flip of her thumb.
it.” Tanner rose abruptly and stepped away from his reaching hand. She took three quick steps to the chair where his jacket was draped and snatched
the American Airlines envelope from his pocket. She opened
it with a flip of her thumb.
She sagged. “Philip A. Metzger,” she read. “That's not your right name either, is it?”
“No, it isn't.”
“Los Angeles!” She brightened. “This is a return connec
tion to Los Angeles. My God, we're neighbors.”
tion to Los Angeles. My God, we're neighbors.”
“Tanner, that ticket means I'd planned to end up in Los
Angeles. It doesn't mean I still will. Certainly not on the
date you just memorized.”
Angeles. It doesn't mean I still will. Certainly not on the
date you just memorized.”
“Shit!” Tanner Burke threw down the ticket. “How can you not trust me?” she flared. “How can you think I'll do
anything to harm you after tonight?”
anything to harm you after tonight?”
Baker rose slowly to his feet, glancing toward the
trousers that hung on the bathroom door, drying. “Tanner,
I'd better let you get some sleep.”
trousers that hung on the bathroom door, drying. “Tanner,
I'd better let you get some sleep.”
Tanner Burke stepped toward him and pressed a hand flat
against his chest. “You're not going anywhere,” she said qui
etly, “and I want an answer.”
against his chest. “You're not going anywhere,” she said qui
etly, “and I want an answer.”
“For Pete's sake, Tanner.” Baker threw up his arms. “Think
what you're asking. You're asking me to bet at least my free
dom on the emotions of a badly shaken up woman who's
known me all of four hours. You're already just a little bit
afraid of me and by tomorrow night you might despise me.”
what you're asking. You're asking me to bet at least my free
dom on the emotions of a badly shaken up woman who's
known me all of four hours. You're already just a little bit
afraid of me and by tomorrow night you might despise me.”
“Dumb again. To say nothing of sexist. What's ‘woman’
got to do with it?”
got to do with it?”
He shook his head helplessly.
“And, whatever your name is, I've known you a lot longer
than four hours. I don't know how long, or how I know, but
you do, don't you?”
than four hours. I don't know how long, or how I know, but
you do, don't you?”
Again, Baker was startled. He could only shake his head and hope that the confusion on his face would persuade her
that she must be wrong. Abel kicked. Be careful, the kick
meant. Get out of here. You don't need her, Baker.
that she must be wrong. Abel kicked. Be careful, the kick
meant. Get out of here. You don't need her, Baker.
“And I'll never despise you,” she said, touching him.
“I'm not afraid of you either.”
“I'm not afraid of you either.”
Baker didn't answer. She saw the tear in his right eye and
thought it meant sorrow. ”I care about you, Peter,” she said.
And I care about you, Baker thought. And God, I'd like to
stay. But you just don't know what it could cost you.
thought it meant sorrow. ”I care about you, Peter,” she said.
And I care about you, Baker thought. And God, I'd like to
stay. But you just don't know what it could cost you.
“Will you promise,” she asked, “that you'll call me?
You'll know how I feel if you call me.”
You'll know how I feel if you call me.”
“Yes,” he answered. “Yes, I'll know.” Charley would
know.
know.
“You'll call?”
Baker nodded. She picked up the ticket envelope once
more and groped for a pen in the desk.
“Write your number backward,” he said. “Add any two
digits to the beginning and the end.”
more and groped for a pen in the desk.
“Write your number backward,” he said. “Add any two
digits to the beginning and the end.”
She studied him for a moment, then wrote her private
number as he specified. “You really have to be so careful? In
everything you do?”
number as he specified. “You really have to be so careful? In
everything you do?”
“For just a while,” Baker lied. “Now get some sleep, Tan
ner.” He stepped toward the open bathroom door and lifted
his still-damp trousers.
ner.” He stepped toward the open bathroom door and lifted
his still-damp trousers.
“Peter?” she called.
Baker turned.
“Please stay.”
“It's better if
I...”
I...”
“Please stay.” Her fingers loosed the buttons at her throat.
Then they moved slowly to those beneath.
Then they moved slowly to those beneath.
“You don't have to do that, Tanner.”
”I want you to stay.” Her voice caught. Baker crossed to her and took her shoulders gently.
“We'll both just get some sleep,” he whispered.
The buzz of the Oldsmobile's radiophone shook Connor
Harrigan from his train of thought. He heard sirens now too.
And the klaxon of an ambulance. The shrieks from the park
had weakened and stopped. Harrigan slid the microphone from its hook. “Yes, darlin',” he said.
Harrigan from his train of thought. He heard sirens now too.
And the klaxon of an ambulance. The shrieks from the park
had weakened and stopped. Harrigan slid the microphone from its hook. “Yes, darlin',” he said.
“Mr. Harrigan,” came Kate Mulgrew's voice, “did you
say that uniformed policeman was from the Sixth Precinct?”
say that uniformed policeman was from the Sixth Precinct?”
“That's what his collar said.”
“You're not in the Sixth. That's way down around Green
wich Village. And there isn't any foot patrol either on Cen
tral Park South this late.”
wich Village. And there isn't any foot patrol either on Cen
tral Park South this late.”
“Any chance he's on loan from the Sixth?”
“Not unless you have a parade or a rock concert going on
up there, Mr. Harrigan. He shouldn't be there—Can you
hold, Mr. Harrigan? There's another call.”
up there, Mr. Harrigan. He shouldn't be there—Can you
hold, Mr. Harrigan? There's another call.”
Harrigan sighed and eased his seat into a reclining posi
tion.
tion.
“Ah, Baker,” he said aloud, “it gets curiouser and curi
ouser, doesn't it? We now have a cop who's not a cop. That's
on top of a Baker who is not a Baker, two muggers who are
not
muggers, and an oddly nervous Michael Biaggi who
is...I
don't know what Michael is. That Michael serves two masters has never been in serious doubt. Not if I know
tidy old Duncan Peck. But could there possibly be more than
two? And how many phone calls could the lad be making
right this minute?”
ouser, doesn't it? We now have a cop who's not a cop. That's
on top of a Baker who is not a Baker, two muggers who are
not
muggers, and an oddly nervous Michael Biaggi who
is...I
don't know what Michael is. That Michael serves two masters has never been in serious doubt. Not if I know
tidy old Duncan Peck. But could there possibly be more than
two? And how many phone calls could the lad be making
right this minute?”
“Mr. Harrigan?”
“I'm alone, by the way, Katy darlin' .”
“Hi, Connor.” Her voice smiled. “That was your man
Dugan over at the Warwick. There's no sign of Baker, but
he says the two hoods who were prowling around the place
have been joined by a third. They seem to be holding a
strategy meeting. Dugan says the new shooter is Stanley
Levy.”
Dugan over at the Warwick. There's no sign of Baker, but
he says the two hoods who were prowling around the place
have been joined by a third. They seem to be holding a
strategy meeting. Dugan says the new shooter is Stanley
Levy.”
“Stanley's not a shooter. He's an ice pick, Katy.”
“Whatever. Do we assume he's after Mr. Baker?”
“Yes, Katy. I'm afraid we must. Let me have just a mo
ment, darlin'.”
ment, darlin'.”
Connor Harrigan laid the telephone mike across his leg
and squinted through the film of moisture on his window.
“Mr. Baker,” he said softly to the night, “did I mention that
it was getting curiouser?
Yes, of course I did. The field keeps
getting bigger. We now have Mr. Stanley Levy, who is
smaller, older, and balder than yours truly and who com
mands a handsome retainer for the employment of his ice
pick and his tenaciousness. Likes to leave calling cards.
Such as the one that pinned the hands of old Rent-a-judge Bellafonte. Mr. Levy's presence at this particular starting
gate has at least two meanings. First, he knows you're here,
which raises other obvious and vexing questions such as
how he knows. Second, we must assume that Mr. Tortora's
interest in you has definitely been enkindled anew. It should
positively blossom when he discovers how disagreeable you
were toward his little boy.”
and squinted through the film of moisture on his window.
“Mr. Baker,” he said softly to the night, “did I mention that
it was getting curiouser?
Yes, of course I did. The field keeps
getting bigger. We now have Mr. Stanley Levy, who is
smaller, older, and balder than yours truly and who com
mands a handsome retainer for the employment of his ice
pick and his tenaciousness. Likes to leave calling cards.
Such as the one that pinned the hands of old Rent-a-judge Bellafonte. Mr. Levy's presence at this particular starting
gate has at least two meanings. First, he knows you're here,
which raises other obvious and vexing questions such as
how he knows. Second, we must assume that Mr. Tortora's
interest in you has definitely been enkindled anew. It should
positively blossom when he discovers how disagreeable you
were toward his little boy.”
Harrigan brought the phone back to his ear. “Katy, is
there anyone there who can relieve you?”
there anyone there who can relieve you?”
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