Blood Of Angels (44 page)

'That means "No", I said. 'They don't believe you and they're right. Nothing is going to happen in LA. We've got to…'

'Forget it, Ward,' Carl said. 'We've been through this. I have orders from elsewhere. I'm going to the restroom and then I'm out of here.'

He got up and walked quickly out to the back.

I turned to John. 'For Christ's sake…'

'I'm sorry, Ward, I just don't buy that Paul is here.'

'I've just
spoken
to a man who…'

'… is a murderous lunatic. Their grip on reality sucks. Also, they lie. Meanwhile I got another call from Oz Turner. He checked his server again and suddenly it's full of hardcore child pornography. He wiped it and pulled the plug and has now got the hell out of the state. These guys are on the move, Ward. They're locking down for something big. I just do not see why Paul would be in this town today.'

'Because
we
are,' I said, angrily. 'He wasn't getting us out of the way: he was gathering us in one place. You know what the last thing Monroe said was?'

'Whoa,' John said. 'Last thing?'

'Yes — the killer killed him,' I said, light-headed. 'He took most of his face off with a great big fucking knife. I thought that would be obvious from the fact Monroe isn't here with me right now. Do try to keep up, John. Charles Monroe is
dead.'

'Christ. Look, slow down, Ward. You've got to…'

'We don't have
time
.' Around us I was aware of people going up for refills, switching to the sports section, living explicable lives. 'The last thing Monroe said was "Sorry". Got any idea why that is?'

'Because…'

I threw up my hands. 'You know. Of
course
you do, but you didn't think to tell me. When you wanted to talk to Gulicks that night and I got the call from Carl, you got me to take it outside. Because you suspected Monroe had gotten a push from somewhere, that he was told to get Nina to come with him out here.'

'Yes.'

'And you confronted him and he didn't actually admit it, but it suddenly became okay for you to talk to a murder suspect.'

'I just suggested to Monroe that if you got to thinking he'd brought Nina there under anything like an order or suggestion then you would probably kill him right there and then. But I didn't know for sure. It was just a guess. I didn't tell you because…'

'…you don't trust anyone and think I'm kind of slow and maybe you're right. But
I'm
right about this. And what the hell is taking Carl so long? We need to get out and start looking.'

'For what? Even if this is all true, how are we suddenly going to find them?'

'A big, black car. In a town full of pickups and compacts, it can't be impossible to find. It's worth a
try.
We've got to do something.'

Zandt frowned. 'Carl's been a while, you're right.'

We waited another thirty seconds then got up and walked through to the back, where a twenty-foot corridor led down to the restrooms. We went through into the gents. Three sinks, three urinals, three stalls. No sign of Carl.

'Strange,' John said.

'He split on us,' I said. 'He knew you'd waver if I told you Paul might be in town, and so he's taken off for LA without us.'

'No. That guy needs us. We believe him.'

'No,
you
do. And anyway — isn't every hidden elite in the world backing Carl? From the Masons to the charter members of the G8 summit? Can't he just call 1-800-GOOD-GUYS?'

'No, Ward. They have no idea what's going… Weren't you listening to a single word he said?'

He pushed the door of the first stall. It was unlocked and empty. 'He needs us,' he said. The second stall was empty too. 'We've dealt with these people face to face. For everyone else they're a myth. Plus, there's no way out of here. Carl would have had to come back out past where we were sitting.'

He pushed open the door to the third stall. Carl Unger was sitting inside.

His legs were outstretched, arms hanging straight down. He was leaning back against the cistern, head thrown back. There was a neat hole in the middle of his forehead. It had been made by a bullet from a small-calibre weapon, enough to ruin the contents of a skull without blowing a messy hole out the back.

We both stepped unconsciously back, stopped, went forward again. The guy was dead without a doubt.

'How?' I said, feeling very scared. Death knew exactly where I was today. 'How… how did this happen?'

We hurriedly pulled the stall door shut and stepped warily back out into the hall. John pushed open the door to the female restrooms, went inside. I held the corridor while he checked. There was nobody in there.

We confirmed there was no exit out back. The corridor dead-ended in a solid wall. The only other access was through the front door.

We turned and looked over the seating area.

A couple of grey-haired guys were jawing at each other. Young mothers sat chatting in threes and twos, admiring each other's Baby Gap spending sprees; a sprinkling of homemakers were out by themselves, reading magazines and nibbling at cranberry scones as they watched this hour of the day drift by in cocooned ease. There was a middle-aged guy with a notepad. Two tourists peering at a big map and worrying about making time. An old woman serenely reading the local paper. Nobody looking at us. Like they were all happily in someone else's dream.

'We're getting out of here,' I said, quietly.

'Yes we are.'

We walked out the middle of the coffee shop, straight through the warm, cosy centre. We stayed close together, fast, stiff-legged. A young woman in a fluffy sweater laughed suddenly, and I twitched in her direction and came this close to yanking my gun out, but she was just charming some other woman's kid. In the background the coffee machine hissed and spluttered and baristas shouted about extra shots and soya milk, and ethically sourced coffee remained available.

We got out onto the sidewalk and turned to look for any sign of someone looking out at us, watching, following.

There was no one even glancing our way. It was as if we hadn't left, or hadn't been there in the first place. We walked up the hill, fast. Both of us had our hands inside our jackets, guns in our hands.

John couldn't restrain himself from glancing back. 'What
happened
in there?'

'Did you see anyone acting weird?'

'No — but I wasn't looking for weird. It's a fucking Starbucks.'

'It has to be Paul.'

'What — did he come right by us, dragging Nina by the hair? No.
That
I'm pretty sure I would have noticed.'

'There's a younger guy here with him too.'

'That must be Hudek. I guess it…'

'But no one came in or out, John. I was facing the door. I would have seen.'

We got to the car and I unlocked John's door and ran around to jump in the other side. We sat stunned for a moment.

'Unger's dead.'

'So much for the fucking cavalry.'

'We're going to want to put some serious distance between us and here,' I said, turning the ignition. 'Before long someone's going to go in the restroom and find a dead man that you've been sitting next to for the last half-hour. We should tell the Feds.'

'Forget it. Monroe's dead, and he's the only reason we ever got through the door.'

'True. And I don't see the cops being much help, either. When I was there to pick him up this morning, there was a new guy in there, some cop from out of town. He didn't seem to like the look of me.'

'Right, but you're certifiably paranoid.'

I turned to stare at him.

===OO=OOO=OO===

We did a rapid U-turn and drove back past the Starbucks, slowing a little while we were level. It looked like a happy fishbowl. Nothing had happened for the people in there. They were inside the postcard, looking out.

Zandt had recovered fast and had his gun out in his lap. He looked like he wanted to use it.

'We should go back.'

'And do
what?
I said. 'Whoever killed Carl will cut us down before we have any clue who they are. Half the other people in there will get taken down in crossfire, and it won't get us any closer to Nina.'

'So what, then?'

'We keep moving.' I picked up speed and followed the road down the hill. People walked up and down on either side. Trees shook autumnal leaves in a light breeze. A UPS van made a delivery, a guy in brown carrying a long flat box into the Christmas store. The whole town was like a moving billboard, an image you couldn't get past, somewhere we didn't belong.

'Ward, where are you going?'

'I don't know. We have to find where Paul's taken her. In the meantime we need somewhere where we won't get shot. We're running out of good guys fast.'

'Is that what we are now? The good guys?'

'Close as we're going to find.'

Ten minutes took us to the edge of town and I drove up a hill to a turning that led down a single-track road. At the end was the vague parking lot that looked down over Raynor's Wood. It was empty, which I liked.

I parked at the far end. Got out of the car and walked in tight circles for a while. I saw I still had some of Monroe's blood on my fingers. Tried to rub it off.

John got out after a couple of minutes.

'We should really call the cops anyway,' I said. 'Tell them there's a body. And also about Monroe. Alert them to what's happening here.'

'In the last week this town has had a cop killed and an FBI agent abducted, plus two dead guys found in various woods. If they're not alert already it's just not going to fucking happen.' John looked down over the forest, shook his head. 'There's something wrong with this place. It's…'

He walked a few yards down the slope, peering down into the forest below.

'What are you looking at?'

'There's a little hillock down there,' he said. 'Just in the trees.'

'It's where Lawrence Widmar's body was found. Somewhere down there, anyway. What about it?'

'It looks like the things I've been all over New England searching for.'

'John, this is not the time for…'

He put his hand up, listened. 'What's that sound?'

I put my hand in my pocket. Pulled out my phone.

The screen said NINA.

My fingers had turned to rubber and it took three tries to press the right button. I put the phone to my ear slowly. My head was ringing as blood rushed around it, not yet knowing where to go.

'Nina?' I said quietly. 'Is that you?'

'Hello, Ward.' It was a man's voice.

'Who is this?'

'Who do you think?'

It could only be him. 'Paul.'

John looked up quickly. I held up a hand to keep him quiet.

'You got it,' the voice said. 'Thought I'd see how you are. You never write, you never call…'

'Where's Nina? Where are you?'

'Where do you think I am?'

'There's a theory something major is about to go down in LA.'

'Wow — you guys are good.'

'It's not my theory. I think you're a lot closer than that.'

'Then you're even better than I thought. Got someone who wants to say hi.'

I gripped the phone tightly.

'Hey honey,' she said.

'Hey,' I said. My throat felt like it was clutched in someone's fist. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine.' Her voice sounded weak.

'Where are you?'

'He's holding a gun at my head, Ward.'

'Don't tell me then. What does he want? What do I have to do?'

'He wants John.'

'Stay alive,' I said. 'Stay alive for me.'

'I'll do my best. I really will. You live and learn,' she said. 'You live and learn. I love…'

Then she was gone.

'So there's your motivation,' Paul said, back on the line. 'Is former-detective Zandt with you right now?'

'No,' I said. 'He went to LA.'

'Really.
That's such a shame. He's gone in completely the wrong direction. He's going to feel such a fool. And I did so want to talk to him.'

'That's the risk you take playing stupid games. What would have happened if you hadn't got hold of Nina's phone? How would you have contacted me?'

'I had your number already, Ward. And listen.'

There was a two second pause, and then I heard an unfamiliar ringing sound from close by.

John got his phone out. It was ringing. He looked at me.

Paul laughed down the line. 'Hey, what do you know? I just heard someone else's ringer down the line — which I guess proves the two of you
are
still here together. Of course I have his number too, Ward. You really don't seem to have a clue what you're dealing with.'

'Nobody does. Not even the Masons, from what I gather.'

'Ah, Mr Unger. Strange, deluded guy. Still, he's dead now, so, whatever. Didn't you see me? I'm always there somewhere, in the background. Always will be. We are legion, brother. Put John on the line.'

I held the phone out and John took it. He listened for a minute, and at that moment I admired him like never before. He listened to the voice of the man who had killed his daughter and he did not interrupt or shout or threaten. He knew the man had Nina, and so he listened.

Then he handed the phone back to me.

'Call the cops,' warned Paul, 'and I'll know. Fuck me around and I'll kill Nina and not even quickly. You know that's true.'

'I believe you. But you should know something too,' I said. 'I shot your psycho pal an hour ago.'

'Meaning?' His voice sounded very slightly hesitant, just for a moment.

'Over in Dryford. Jim, James, whatever. The guy was spilling blood all over his yard when I left. And talking. It's possible that even around here he may attract some attention before long.'

'It won't even make page seven,' he said, and then the line went dead.

===OO=OOO=OO===

John lit a cigarette, stared out over the forest. His face looked tight, composed, as if he'd made a decision. My head was shining white from having spoken to Nina. I knew that would fade fast. But at least she was still alive. For now.

'What did he say to you?'

Zandt didn't turn. 'That if I came to him he'd call the other thing off. He said he'd let Nina go. He wants you alive anyway.'