Abel Baker Charley (33 page)
“As for Sonnenberg, I have no clear idea of what he's up
to. He may not be a Boris Karloff type out to rule the world,
but he's not the pussycat Baker thinks he is either. There's a possibility that Sonnenberg murdered a man named Roger Hershey in order for a new Roger Hershey to replace him. I
also suspect, without evidence, that Sonnenberg may be be
hind the murder of the judge who Baker's accused of killing. The manner of Judge Bellafonte's death points to Tortora's
man, Levy, but the motive points to Sonnenberg. He needed Baker to need him.”
to. He may not be a Boris Karloff type out to rule the world,
but he's not the pussycat Baker thinks he is either. There's a possibility that Sonnenberg murdered a man named Roger Hershey in order for a new Roger Hershey to replace him. I
also suspect, without evidence, that Sonnenberg may be be
hind the murder of the judge who Baker's accused of killing. The manner of Judge Bellafonte's death points to Tortora's
man, Levy, but the motive points to Sonnenberg. He needed Baker to need him.”
“And Sonnenberg sent that man to murder us, didn't he?”
she asked, her head turning toward the bathroom door. Tan
ner squinted as if she'd heard a distant sound.
she asked, her head turning toward the bathroom door. Tan
ner squinted as if she'd heard a distant sound.
Harrigan blinked. “May I ask why you think he did?”
”I saw the phone number written backward on his pad.
Jared writes phone numbers that way too. The same man
must have taught them both.” Tanner hesitated. “At least, I
thought so a minute ago.”
Jared writes phone numbers that way too. The same man
must have taught them both.” Tanner hesitated. “At least, I
thought so a minute ago.”
Connor Harrigan sucked deeply on his pipe. The buzz in
side his head had started again. She was wrong, of course. He'd known at a glance that that coded number rang in a
bedroom in Alexandria, Virginia. Duncan Peck had ordered
that cop to kill him, and possibly Tanner Burke, and then use
the dart gun on Jared Baker until they could cart him off to
a test tube someplace. But what else did she say? She said
the same man must have taught them both. That was wrong.
But the buzzing sound told him there was something else
there.
side his head had started again. She was wrong, of course. He'd known at a glance that that coded number rang in a
bedroom in Alexandria, Virginia. Duncan Peck had ordered
that cop to kill him, and possibly Tanner Burke, and then use
the dart gun on Jared Baker until they could cart him off to
a test tube someplace. But what else did she say? She said
the same man must have taught them both. That was wrong.
But the buzzing sound told him there was something else
there.
“It wasn't Sonnenberg,” he told her. “It was the number of a man in Washington, a very powerful and devious man,
who's afraid of what I might know and who seems to be es
pecially afraid of Sonnenberg. And you can be sure, inci
dentally, that the dead man has at least one partner waiting
downstairs to hear that it's safe to come and haul our car
casses out of here. That's why I wanted you to leave.” What the hell is it
,
he wondered
?
Something about teaching them
both.
who's afraid of what I might know and who seems to be es
pecially afraid of Sonnenberg. And you can be sure, inci
dentally, that the dead man has at least one partner waiting
downstairs to hear that it's safe to come and haul our car
casses out of here. That's why I wanted you to leave.” What the hell is it
,
he wondered
?
Something about teaching them
both.
“I'm glad,” she said. “I'm glad it wasn't Sonnenberg.”
A curious sentiment, thought Harrigan.
“And I don't believe Dr. Sonnenberg is a criminal,” she
added. “Or that he's hatching any grand conspiracy either.”
added. “Or that he's hatching any grand conspiracy either.”
“Could I ask how it's possible to doubt it?”
“Just a feeling.” She squinted again and turned her eyes
toward the bathroom.
toward the bathroom.
“Feminine intuition, I take it.”
Tanner Burke straightened. “Would you try to be
l
ess of
an ass on the subject of my sex, Mr. Harrigan?” She tried to
say it without sharpness. And Connor Harrigan tried not to
flush.
l
ess of
an ass on the subject of my sex, Mr. Harrigan?” She tried to
say it without sharpness. And Connor Harrigan tried not to
flush.
“
What sort of intuition then?” he asked.
What sort of intuition then?” he asked.
“
P
erception,
Mr. Harrigan. Or
judgment.
Believe it or not, I am capable of offering a useful thought. I've even been
to college and managed to graduate without ever being a
cheerleader or a prom queen. I've sat through lectures on
history and political science without ever once doing my
nails, reading
Modern Screen,
or offering to screw the pro
fessor in return for a passing grade.”
P
erception,
Mr. Harrigan. Or
judgment.
Believe it or not, I am capable of offering a useful thought. I've even been
to college and managed to graduate without ever being a
cheerleader or a prom queen. I've sat through lectures on
history and political science without ever once doing my
nails, reading
Modern Screen,
or offering to screw the pro
fessor in return for a passing grade.”
“I'm deservedly abashed, Miss Burke.” He sighed. ”I
take it that your education has prepared you for an insight that applies to Dr. Sonnenberg.”
take it that your education has prepared you for an insight that applies to Dr. Sonnenberg.”
There was still an edge of sarcasm to his tone. Tanner
chewed her lip, wondering whether to bother.
chewed her lip, wondering whether to bother.
“With respect”—Harrigan dipped his head—”I would in
deed like to hear your thought.” It appeared to have struck
him for the first time that this piece of Hollywood fluff
might have substance. Tanner saw that in him, resenting him
no less for it. But she relented.
deed like to hear your thought.” It appeared to have struck
him for the first time that this piece of Hollywood fluff
might have substance. Tanner saw that in him, resenting him
no less for it. But she relented.
”I had a professor,” she said slowly, “who used to say that
the answer, when found, would be simple.”
the answer, when found, would be simple.”
“Meaning that Sonnenberg is simply a benevolent eccen
tric?”
tric?”
“Meaning that there are more conspiracies in the minds
of people like you than there are in the intentions of the peo
ple you investigate. In the history I've read, best-laid plans
never work anyway. Murphy's Law. Even Hitler made
things up as he went along and got caught up in his own mo
mentum. I think Dr. Sonnenberg is doing the same thing.”
of people like you than there are in the intentions of the peo
ple you investigate. In the history I've read, best-laid plans
never work anyway. Murphy's Law. Even Hitler made
things up as he went along and got caught up in his own mo
mentum. I think Dr. Sonnenberg is doing the same thing.”
A faraway look came over her, the same squinting con
centration he'd seen twice in the past several minutes. She'd
also played back a thought he'd had, almost verbatim. Har
rigan leaned forward, interested now, where only moments
before he would have dismissed her opinion as simplistic
prattle.
centration he'd seen twice in the past several minutes. She'd
also played back a thought he'd had, almost verbatim. Har
rigan leaned forward, interested now, where only moments
before he would have dismissed her opinion as simplistic
prattle.
“Without trying to reason it out, Miss Burke,” he said carefully, “are you able to tell me why you think this way?”
She glanced toward the door. Involuntarily, he thought.
“Because I trust Jared,” she answered, speaking very
slowly now, “and because I think Jared would know if Son
nenberg was . . . dangerous. And . . . you're right. You're right about the same man teaching them both.” A look of
surprise crossed her face. She had no idea why she'd said
that. Tanner turned once more toward the bathroom door.
“And
...
my God. I know Tina Baker. She's written to me.
And once I gave her a trophy for ...”
slowly now, “and because I think Jared would know if Son
nenberg was . . . dangerous. And . . . you're right. You're right about the same man teaching them both.” A look of
surprise crossed her face. She had no idea why she'd said
that. Tanner turned once more toward the bathroom door.
“And
...
my God. I know Tina Baker. She's written to me.
And once I gave her a trophy for ...”
Harrigan stared disbelievingly. Stupefied. The buzz in his
head had become a siren. He barely heard the part about
Tina.
head had become a siren. He barely heard the part about
Tina.
“What.. . what man?” he stammered.
“The man who taught Jared was the same man who
taught. . .” She closed her eyes. “It wasn't the policeman.
He taught a man named . . . Duncan?” Tanner brought her
hands to her face.
taught. . .” She closed her eyes. “It wasn't the policeman.
He taught a man named . . . Duncan?” Tanner brought her
hands to her face.
“Oh, sweet Jesus, what a boob I've been!” Harrigan
raged at himself. The answer had been there almost from the
beginning. From the day Peck had told him about the coded
numbers in Roger Hershey's wallet. A code Peck recognized
because he'd learned it himself from a man who was now
dead. The genius, Harrigan remembered, who could make
whole departments disappear. The man who could field op
eratives so immersed in deep cover that they might not rec
ognize their mothers on the street. A tinkerer with minds and
memories. A behaviorist. An eccentric.
raged at himself. The answer had been there almost from the
beginning. From the day Peck had told him about the coded
numbers in Roger Hershey's wallet. A code Peck recognized
because he'd learned it himself from a man who was now
dead. The genius, Harrigan remembered, who could make
whole departments disappear. The man who could field op
eratives so immersed in deep cover that they might not rec
ognize their mothers on the street. A tinkerer with minds and
memories. A behaviorist. An eccentric.
And now Harrigan retrieved from his memory those odd
and fearful little reactions whenever Sonnenberg's name
was mentioned. God in heaven, was it possible? Ivor! That
was his name. Ivor Blount! Now what did Harrigan remem
ber about him? That he was a genius? He'd said that. Ec
centric? Yes. Foreign. Swiss, he thought. And unstable. At least that was the rumor. But who said it? Who was closest to him? Damn! It was Duncan, all right, wasn't it? It was
Duncan who talked of his unhappy visits with Ivor Blount at, let's see, St. Elizabeths in D.C. And it was Duncan who
told sadly of Ivor Blount's tragic death.
and fearful little reactions whenever Sonnenberg's name
was mentioned. God in heaven, was it possible? Ivor! That
was his name. Ivor Blount! Now what did Harrigan remem
ber about him? That he was a genius? He'd said that. Ec
centric? Yes. Foreign. Swiss, he thought. And unstable. At least that was the rumor. But who said it? Who was closest to him? Damn! It was Duncan, all right, wasn't it? It was
Duncan who talked of his unhappy visits with Ivor Blount at, let's see, St. Elizabeths in D.C. And it was Duncan who
told sadly of Ivor Blount's tragic death.
Harrigan was pacing now, driving one
fist against the
other as he stalked the room. You're an ass for fair, Harrigan.
The lady was right about that. Peck had given you just enough to get you interested and held back just enough to
fist against the
other as he stalked the room. You're an ass for fair, Harrigan.
The lady was right about that. Peck had given you just enough to get you interested and held back just enough to
get you suspicious. He played you like a fiddle. He knew
that your interest would cause you to seek out Baker and that
your suspicion would cause you to work alone. He knew that
in the end, whatever the outcome, there would only be Con
nor Harrìgan to silence.
that your interest would cause you to seek out Baker and that
your suspicion would cause you to work alone. He knew that
in the end, whatever the outcome, there would only be Con
nor Harrìgan to silence.
“Mr. Harrigan!” Tanner called.
Only old Connor, he thought, and whoever worked for
him. Merciful God, poor young Thomas Dugan was alone
on the street.
him. Merciful God, poor young Thomas Dugan was alone
on the street.
“Mr. Harrigan!” Tanner Burke called sharply. She was
close to tears.
close to tears.
Connor shook himself, realizing for the first time that
he had crossed the room and was methodically tearing
apart a bouquet of flowers. A crushed carnation bled in his
hand.
“Was Baker right, Miss Burke, when he said that you too
sometimes get into people's minds?”
he had crossed the room and was methodically tearing
apart a bouquet of flowers. A crushed carnation bled in his
hand.
“Was Baker right, Miss Burke, when he said that you too
sometimes get into people's minds?”
”I don't know.” Her voice was anguished. ”I don't know
why I said all those things. I just started thinking them.”
why I said all those things. I just started thinking them.”
“Do you begin to sense that I've not been entirely in con
trol of events?” Harrigan drew his pistol and checked the
breech.
trol of events?” Harrigan drew his pistol and checked the
breech.
”I think we're all in a lot of trouble.”
“In fact, my own vanity may have killed us. I realized that
while you were having your chat with Baker just now.”
while you were having your chat with Baker just now.”
Tanner looked at him uncomprehendingly at first. Then
she turned and moved toward the bathroom door.
she turned and moved toward the bathroom door.
“Where are you going?” he snapped.
“I'm going to get Jared out of this town and hide him
until you can do your job, Harrigan.”
until you can do your job, Harrigan.”
“Baker can hide himself very nicely, believe me. Except
he won't go without his daughter.”
he won't go without his daughter.”
‘Then we'll get her.”
“Does that 'we' include you?”
“I'll get her myself if I have to. We know each other.”
Harrigan allowed himself a smile.
“Why are you smirking?”
“It's admiration.” He grinned. “You're a classy lady. Ex
cept you're getting damned near as spooky as Jared Baker.
I
'll ask you about that Tina Baker business later.” Harrigan
pried the long gas pistol from his belt and hefted both
weapons in his hands.
cept you're getting damned near as spooky as Jared Baker.
I
'll ask you about that Tina Baker business later.” Harrigan
pried the long gas pistol from his belt and hefted both
weapons in his hands.
“What are you doing with those?” she asked, backing away.
“This one puts people to sleep,” he answered, “and this
one cripples or kills. It's good you should see them. You
have to know that I might use either and that people may die.
You must also make up your mind that you'll do exactly
what I say. Starting in ten seconds.”
one cripples or kills. It's good you should see them. You
have to know that I might use either and that people may die.
You must also make up your mind that you'll do exactly
what I say. Starting in ten seconds.”
“What's going to happen?” she asked uneasily.
“I'm going to interview whatever's in that bathroom. And
I intend to live through the experience.”
I intend to live through the experience.”
He had no more than leaned toward the door when a sud
den shriek echoed from the tiles inside. Even Harrigan flinched at the sound. It came again. A shrill, terrified
“NOOO!” that washed over the room. Then a long desper
ate wail that sounded like Baker's name.
den shriek echoed from the tiles inside. Even Harrigan flinched at the sound. It came again. A shrill, terrified
“NOOO!” that washed over the room. Then a long desper
ate wail that sounded like Baker's name.
“Stay behind me.”
The howls came louder as Harrigan, both weapons leveled,
took three long steps and smashed his shoe against the lock.
took three long steps and smashed his shoe against the lock.
On the sidewalk, near the entrance to the New York Athletic Club, stood a clubbish-looking man of about thirty-five. One
arm embraced a bulky golf bag that had Bancroft embla
zoned on the side. He wore a three-piece business suit. A
Georgetown class ring was on his hand.
arm embraced a bulky golf bag that had Bancroft embla
zoned on the side. He wore a three-piece business suit. A
Georgetown class ring was on his hand.
A few car lengths away, a Buick with tinted windows had just crunched to the curb. He pretended to ignore it. From a device on his belt, three musical notes sounded. He turned to
see the Buick's trunk yawn slowly open. The man waved toward the car as if in sudden recognition, then lifted the
golf bag and carried it to the trunk. A rear door swung open
on the sidewalk side, an invitation. He ducked inside and
closed the door behind him.
see the Buick's trunk yawn slowly open. The man waved toward the car as if in sudden recognition, then lifted the
golf bag and carried it to the trunk. A rear door swung open
on the sidewalk side, an invitation. He ducked inside and
closed the door behind him.
“Good morning, sir,” he greeted the gray-haired man in
the rear seat. ”I hope you had a nice flight.”
the rear seat. ”I hope you had a nice flight.”
”A disingenuous salutation, Edward,” Duncan Peck
replied, “from a man who roused me from the comfort of my
bed just three hours ago.”
replied, “from a man who roused me from the comfort of my
bed just three hours ago.”
“I'm sorry, sir.”
Peck patted his knee. “Just grousing, Edward. This Har
rígan business has me upset. Has that been attended to, by the way?”
rígan business has me upset. Has that been attended to, by the way?”
”I don't know, sir. Hackett should have taken him out two
hours ago and then put Baker to sleep. But there's been no
sign of either since that time.”
hours ago and then put Baker to sleep. But there's been no
sign of either since that time.”
“You sent one man after both Connor Harrigan and Jared
Baker?”
Baker?”
“He was dressed as a uniformed policeman, sir. He
should have been able to get close. And Hackett's very good at what he does.”
should have been able to get close. And Hackett's very good at what he does.”
Other books
Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology by Leisa Rayven
Moon Palace by Paul Auster
Dancing with Deception by Kadi Dillon
Corralling the Cowboy by Katie O'Connor
Domination & Submission: The BDSM Relationship Handbook by Michael Makai
Bear Is Broken by Lachlan Smith
Silence by Becca Fitzpatrick
Reunion Pass: An Eternity Springs novel by Emily March
The Golden Keel / The Vivero Letter by Desmond Bagley
Poisoned by Gilt by Leslie Caine
