Indigo Slam: An Elvis Cole Novel (22 page)

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Authors: Robert Crais

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Retail, #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: Indigo Slam: An Elvis Cole Novel
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36

Hendricks and Jasper came running up, and the Orange County cops set about securing the area. Hendricks said, “Is everyone okay?”

Clark nodded. Charles made little breathy sounds, and squirmed around in his father’s lap to see the leathery man. “Is that guy dead?”

“They’re okay, Hendricks. Markov’s hit.”

Hendricks pumped his fist once and made a wide grin. “Then we got the bastard.”

Jasper took out a cell phone. “How bad?”

Pike said, “Took a load of number four high in the right shoulder. Here.” Pike touched his shoulder to show them.

Jasper punched a number into his cell phone. “Okay. Which way they go?”

Pike told him, and Jasper waved over Bates. While Bates was on his way, Jasper said, “I gotta be in on this, Cole, but I wanted to thank you.” He put out his hand, and helped me up. “You did okay.”

“Thanks.”

“Where you gonna be? I wanna give you a call later, talk a little more.”

I gave him the number at the safe house, then he and Bates trotted away, Jasper talking into the phone as Bates deployed his security people. The clock was ticking, and it wouldn’t be long before Markov was had.

Hendricks was frowning at me and Pike. “I thought we took your guns.”

Neither of us answered.

Hendricks shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess it worked out.”

I took Hendricks aside. “You understand the situation from Marsha Fields?”

Hendricks nodded. “We’re going to need to talk to the father to make the kidnap case. We’ll need the boy, too.”

“I know that.”

He looked past me at Clark and Charles. They were still on the ground, Charles sitting in Clark’s lap, Clark holding on tight. Clark looked shaken and scared, but Charles didn’t. He was flipping off the dead man, and making faces at the body. “Hang around a little while longer till we get this wrapped up. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sure.”

“You can wait at the hotel, if you want. Get the kid something to eat.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll get back there soon as we find this clown.”

Two more FBI agents, another half dozen Orange County deputies, and the representative from the Secret Service arrived. Everyone was smiling and patting one another on the back because they figured Markov was in the bag. Only so many ways out, they kept saying, and all points of egress were covered.

One of the cops took us back to the hotel, but Charles didn’t like it much. He said, “I wanna go on Space Mountain. I wanna ride the submarines. I wanna climb the Matterhorn.”

Some things don’t change.

I called Teri from the hotel lobby and told her that we had Charles and that everything was fine. Teri passed word to Winona, and they both shrieked and clapped their hands. It made me smile.

We had hamburgers at the hotel café, then hung around the lobby and the monorail station for another two hours, but when Hendricks finally showed up they still hadn’t found Markov or Dobcek. Pike said, “You want me to come back in and find them?”

Hendricks scowled. “I think we can manage, but thanks.”

Pike shrugged.

I said, “I want to get these people home, Hendricks. You can talk to them later and arrange the statements.”

Hendricks said, “Okay,” but you could tell he didn’t like it.

Charles coughed. “A-hole.”

Hendricks glared at him, then stalked away shaking his head.

Pike took us back to the warehouse for my car. The FBI and Long Beach cops were still standing around the place, but Dak and his people were gone, and so were the bodies. The big truck door was open, revealing the litho press and the computer and platemaker, but no one seemed to be paying attention. Marsha Fields was there, as was a representative of the U.S. Attorney’s Office, both of them talking to a couple of Long Beach PD detective-supervisors. When Marsha Fields saw me, she came over, introduced herself to Clark and Charles, then smiled at Joe. “Hi, Joe.”

Pike’s mouth twitched. I guess they knew each other, all right.

She smiled at him a little longer, then put the smile on Charles. “You’re a good-looking little devil.”

Charles turned a nice plum red.

She said, “Mr. Hewitt, we’re very anxious to speak with you.”

Clark was still in the Jeep. Too tired to get out. “Of course. Anytime you want.”

I took Marsha Fields aside and said, “So where do we stand with this?”

She watched three Long Beach cops laugh about something at the far end of the parking lot. Nothing had gone as we had planned. Markov hadn’t been arrested as a counterfeiter, and instead we’d managed to shoot up both Long Beach and Disneyland. A small army of cops had seen the printing equipment, and each and every one of them knew what it was. The bodies had to be explained, and I still wanted Clark to get his money, and that meant he still had to print for Dak. I told her what I was thinking.

Marsha watched the cops laughing, and nodded. “We made the deal in good faith, and so did you. We’ll still want Clark’s testimony on the kidnapping count.” She looked back at me. “A deal’s a deal. Just have Clark get this finished, and tell whoever is behind this operation that if they break the law again, I’ll make them my hobby. Are we clear on that?”

“Clear.” I offered my hand, and she took it. I gave her the safe house number, and she said that she would call as soon as she heard anything. I thanked her.

Marsha Fields took three steps away, then stopped, looked back, and raised an eyebrow. “Dong?”

I spread my hands. I wondered how she knew.

When I rejoined Pike and Clark, and told them that we were free to go, Charles said he wanted to ride home with me. He liked riding in the Corvette with the top down, he said. He thought it was cool. It took an hour and thirty-five minutes to drive up to Studio City, and Charles talked constantly about Marsha Fields, and never once mentioned Markov. I didn’t mind. He seemed fine, and I guess he had fallen in love.

We arrived at the safe house maybe a dozen minutes after Joe and Clark. Charles was disappointed. He said, “What a gyp! They beat us.”

This kid is something, isn’t he?

When we went in, Teri and Winona scooped up Charles in a big hug, everyone crying, but this time they were happy tears. I got hugs, too, and then I asked Pike if Hendricks had called. He hadn’t, and that worried me. If Markov and Dobcek slipped through their net, we were back where we started. I didn’t think they had, but you never know. I went up to the office and phoned Dak. He wasn’t happy to hear from me, but at least he was cordial. He said, “The boy is all right?”

“Yes. And so is Clark. I spoke with Marsha Fields about this, and the deal still stands.”

“The police have been asking questions.”

“Those questions will go away. The paper will not be investigated about the printing equipment found on its premises, nor will you.”

Dak said, “How will we explain the bodies?”

“It’s already been explained. Employees of the
Journal
discovered a robbery in progress and the bad guys drew guns. Your employees acted in self-defense.”

Dak didn’t say anything for a moment. “She can do this?”

“It’s the government, Dak. She can do anything.”

Nguyen Dak said, “You’re a man of your word, Mr. Cole. I have much respect for that.”

“Not me, Dak. Her.”

I told him that Clark would call tomorrow and arrange for the printing, then I hung up, and stared at the phone in the quiet of the room. I could hear the others down below, but up here was peaceful and the peace was soothing. I didn’t feel particularly noble, and I didn’t feel like I’d won anything. I felt lucky. I had come very close to being shot. Charles and Clark could have died, and I had killed men whose faces I could not recall. I looked at my hands. Dmitri Sautin’s blood was still crusted around my fingernails. I felt myself start to shake, and I closed my eyes and waited for the shaking to pass, and when it did I went into the bathroom and washed my hands and arms. I had to wash twice, and then I showered.

When I went downstairs, Teri said, “We’ve decided to have a party. We’re going to get pizza.”

“Great.”

The phone rang then, and I thought it might be Marsha Fields, but it wasn’t. Reed Jasper said, “Have you heard yet?”

“Heard what?”

“We got ’em. Snagged Dobcek and Markov trying to sneak out of a maintenance exit on the north side of the park.”

I cupped the phone, told everyone that Markov had been captured, and Jasper laughed at the shouts and applause. He said, “You guys going to be around?”

“Sure. We’re going to have a little party, then I guess I’ll take them home.”

“I want to swing by and talk to Clark. I’ll probably head back to Seattle in the morning.”

“Sure, Jasper. That’d be fine.” I gave him directions.

We ordered the pizza, and Joe and Winona walked to the little minimart for soft drinks and beer. I volunteered to make a salad. The Hewitts wanted to go home after the pizza, and I thought that would be a good idea. Let them be a family again. Let them fall asleep under the same roof without wondering if someone would come through the door and shoot them. Teri and Charles went upstairs to pack. Clark hovered at the pass-through, watching me mince garlic. I said, “You’re going to have to tell them.”

“I don’t know how.” He fidgeted like he was nervous. “I’ve thought about it a lot, but nothing I come up with sounds good.”

“You just tell them, Clark. You sit them down and tell them you’re sick and that you’re going to die. Let them cry, and you cry with them.”

“They’re so young.”

“They’re older than you think.” I took tomatoes and a cucumber from the fridge. “You feel bad, why don’t you rest over there on the couch?”

He frowned at the couch.

“Would you rather help?”

“Huh?” He looked surprised.

“Would you like to help make the salad?”

Clark Hewitt stared at me. “Sure.” He came around into the kitchen. I told him to wash the tomatoes and cucumbers, then slice them. As he did it, he nodded. “I get it.”

“What?”

“I could sit on the couch over there and feel bad, or I can help make the salad.”

I put the garlic in a little jar and added some olive oil. “Yep.”

“Either way I’m going to die.”

I nodded. It wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. The deal with Dak proved that.

“Maybe I should tell them tonight.”

“That would be good. If you want, I could sit with you.”

He thought about it, then shook his head. “Thanks, but that’s okay. I can do it.”

Good for you, Clark.

We were tossing the salad when someone knocked at the door, and Clark said, “That’s the pizza.”

I opened the door, but it wasn’t the pizza. Reed Jasper came in, and Dobcek and Markov pushed in behind him. Dobcek pointed his gun at me, then backhanded me with it two hard times, knocking me into the wall. Clark said, “Ohmigod,” and then Dobcek pointed the gun at him and touched his lips, going, “Sh,” as he pushed us back into the living room.

Markov came in behind him. Markov was pale and shaky and standing hunched to the side with a windbreaker draped over his shoulders to hide the blood. He looked at me with the kind of look that said he wanted to eat me while I was still alive, while the blood still pumped and he could feel it warm and hot in his mouth. I looked from the hungry eyes to Jasper, and I said, “You sonofabitch.”

Jasper shrugged. He was holding his service gun loose along his leg. “Hey, it’s a living.”

Markov smiled when he saw Clark. His tongue raked dry lips. I guess you dry out when you’re bleeding to death. “I’m going to do you myself, you termite.”

Clark turned white and trembled. “Please don’t hurt my children.”

I said, “Pike’s upstairs. He’s got a machine gun.”

Jasper pointed with his gun. “Shut up and sit down.”

Markov slumped heavily on the couch, and Dobcek moved to the stairs.

I stared at Jasper. “How’d you get them out of the park?”

Jasper looked in the salad bowl, nibbled at a piece of cucumber. “It was touch-and-go there for a bit, but I managed. Dressed ’em up in a couple of maintenance uniforms.”

Markov shifted on the couch; you could tell he was hurting. “Don’t say a goddamned word.”

Jasper shrugged. “What’s it matter? He ain’t going anywhere.”

“How long has Markov owned you, Jasper?”

Jasper ate more cucumber.

“That’s why your buddy was killed the night Clark went under. You sold out three years ago, and it got a marshal killed.”

Jasper made a big-deal shrug. “If he hadn’t tried to play hero it wouldn’t’ve been a problem.”

I stared at him, and then I looked at Markov. I was thinking that Pike and Winona should have been back. It was only two blocks to the market, and two blocks back. I was trying to remember if Pike still had his gun. I had left mine in my trunk. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, Markov. You might not make it.”

“I’ll make it. I’m gonna kill this bastard first, and then I’ll get fixed up just fine.”

I looked at Markov, and then Jasper. “You going to let him kill these children, too?”

Jasper nodded. “Sure. Why not?” Like it was nothing.

Something thumped upstairs, and Charles said, “Quit shovin’, ya frig!” Charles and Teri came down the stairs with Dobcek behind them. Dobcek was holding Charles by the back of the neck, and Teri looked angry.

Dobcek said, “Where’s the other one?” I didn’t know if he meant Pike or Winona.

Jasper looked irritated. “Who gives a shit? Let’s just do it and get out of here.”

Markov said, “Da.”

When he said it, someone knocked on the door and Dobcek clamped a hand over Charles’s mouth and aimed his gun at Clark. “Sh.”

Jasper went to the door, raising his gun, and Markov pushed to his feet, holding his own gun loosely at his side. Pike and Winona had a key, but maybe Pike had seen Markov and Dobcek coming in. Maybe he’d seen Markov’s blood trail leading to the door. Or maybe it was just the pizza man.

Jasper peered through the peephole, then frowned and stepped away from the door. “I can’t see shit.”

If it was Pike, he would make a move.

If it was Pike, the knocking would have been to focus our attention there while he came in from another place.

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