Night Fall (54 page)

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Authors: Nelson Demille

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Thrillers, #Mystery & Detective, #Suspense, #det_political, #Police Procedural, #Suspense fiction, #Large type books, #Terrorism, #Government investigators, #Long Island (N.Y.), #Aircraft accidents, #Investigation, #Aircraft accidents - Investigation, #Corey; John (Fictious character), #TWA Flight 800 Crash; 1996, #Corey; John (Fictitious character)

BOOK: Night Fall
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“That could be a problem. I’ll tell you why-someone from the commissioner’s office gave me a call tonight, and he inquired politely about what the fuck I was doing. I, of course, said I didn’t know what this guy was talking about. So, we seem to have this problem, and it’s coming from Washington, according to this guy, who was totally clueless about why he got a call from some guy in D.C. who he wouldn’t ID for me. Bottom line, partner, I don’t know how long I can supply you with city cops for what they’re telling me is a Federal witness protection thing. Capisce?”

“Capisco.”

“I mean, we don’t want to step on Federal toes or anything, and I’m just providing you a courtesy, but the Feds are saying they are happy to provide people to take care of your witness.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“So, you deal with that at your meeting. But for tomorrowA.M., we’ll be there, take you to WTC North, get you out of there, then back to the hotel. That’s all I can promise you, John. After that, I don’t know. You gotta get this straightened out at your meeting.”

Again, I glanced at Kate and Jill, and they were looking at me closely. I said to Dom, “Just get us back here without a tail, or to someplace else that I’ll think of. I’ll take care of the rest.”

He said to me, “Maybe you should go to the newspapers. Like, we can take you right from WTC to the Times. I’ll call ahead and have nosy investigative reporters waiting for you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think about it too long. I gotta tell ya, buddy, these bastards are going to play hardball. If I was them, I’d hit the lady with a material witness warrant as soon as I saw her.”

I glanced at Jill and said to Dom, “Serving a warrant is one thing-trying to enforce it is another.”

“I know. We’ll have the muscle there. But why get into it?”

I didn’t reply.

He said, “Look, you gotta get to the right people with this, and I’m not sure the people at WTC are the right people. Understand?”

“I understand. But it’s a good place to start.” In fact, it had more to do with a personal confrontation between me, Nash, Griffith, and maybe Koenig. If you want to confront the lion, you go to the lion’s den. I said, “It’s a public place, Dom. Windows on the World. You can’t get much more public. I want to see who shows, and what they have to say.”

“Okay. That’s your call, partner. If it was me, I’d talk to a dozen reporters before I saw the first guy from the government. But that’s not you. Maybe you should talk to Kate.”

“She feels the same as I do.”

“Okay.” He said, “I’ll be at Windows about eight, having breakfast with a few guys at another table. Okay?”

“Thanks.”

“It’s expensive.”

“I’ll buy.”

“No shit. Is Kate taking care of my gun? I want it returned clean. No makeup crap from her handbag.”

I smiled. “You can tell her.” I said, “By the way, Patrolman Alvarez outside my door is a guy you might want to take under your wing. I want him back in the morning.”

“Yeah? We’ll see how he does protecting your ass. Hey, how’d it play out with Kate and your roommate?”

“Fine.”

“No scenes? No claws coming out?”

“No.”

“You lead a charmed life.”

“You think?”

“I
know
. Don’t sweat tomorrow. It’s all set.”

“Good. See you at Windows.” I hung up.

Kate asked me, “Is everything set?”

“It is.”

Jill asked me, “Is there a problem?”

“No.” I smiled at her and said, “We have a three-car, six-man police escort to the World Trade Center. That’s more than the commissioner or mayor gets.”

She smiled.

I said, “Well, we have an early morning.” And I’m very horny. “So, I think we should turn in and get some rest.” Sex.

Everyone stood, and Jill said, “I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do. Good night.”

She went into her room, and Kate said to me, “She’s very nice.”

“She’ll make a good witness.”

“I think she has a little crush on you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“She hung on your every word and kept stealing glances at you.”

“I didn’t notice.” I took the videotape out of the VCR player and said, “Let’s hit the sack.”

I took Kate’s overnight bag, and she took her purse with the gun, and we went into my bedroom. I closed the door and said, “I am
extremely
horny.”

“That works.” She put the gun on the nightstand, then started undressing and said, “I don’t even have a nightie. My luggage is somewhere at the airport.”

“You don’t need a nightie, sweetheart.”

She was pulling off her blouse by the time I was naked in bed. She looked at me and laughed. “That’s a record.”

She finished undressing and crawled into bed next to me. She rolled on her side and looked at me, then pulled the bandage off my chin and asked, “How did that happen?”

“Your friend Nash sucker-punched me.”

She said, “He didn’t look too good at the airport himself. His face was all bruised and swollen.”

That was the best news I’d had in a long time. I said, “Well, we got it out of our systems.”

“I don’t think so.”

I changed the subject and said, “Sex.”

But before I could make my first move, she said, “That tape was very graphic.”

“Yeah. You see why Bud erased it, and why Jill never came forward with the duplicate.”

“I do… it couldn’t have been easy for her to show it to you.”

“I tried to make it easy.” I added, “When you have sex and murder on the same videotape, the murder is more important. She knew that.”

“Well,
we
know that in theory. But if it’s you on the videotape… anyway, I couldn’t believe it was the same woman.”

“People are very complex.”

“You’re not. That’s what I like about you.”

“Thank you. I think.”

Kate stayed quiet for a few seconds, then asked me, “Is there going to be a problem tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so.” I related some of what Dom said and concluded, “The NYPD trumps the FBI in these kinds of local pissing matches.”

She replied, “And what am I supposed to do as an FBI agent? Stand there and look confused?”

I said to her, “Do what you think you have to do, and if you think you have to leave, then leave. I’ll understand.”

She looked at the ceiling for a long time, then said, “Why did I marry a cop?”

“Hey, why did I marry an FBI lawyer?”

She didn’t say anything for a while, then laughed. “You make life interesting.” She asked me, “So, is that my gun under the covers, or is that you?”

“Darling, that is my thirty-eight caliber, eight-inch barrel Police Special.”

 

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

 

I stood outside the Central Park South entrance to the Plaza, and looked down the street. It was 8:11A.M., and no sign of the patrol cars.

I glanced back through the glass doors and saw Kate and Jill standing near the entrance of the Oak Bar, waiting for me to give them a signal to come outside. With them was Patrolman Alvarez.

Across the street was a line of hansom cabs waiting for customers. The doorman said to me, “Can I get you a taxi, sir? Or are you waiting for a car?”

“I’m waiting for a horse.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was a beautiful day, and I realized I hadn’t been out in the sunshine and fresh air since Sunday morning.

It was now 8:13, and the patrol cars from Midtown North should have been here if they’d hustled. This is the point in a pickup that’s the most dicey-between the safety of wherever you were holed up and the street where you’re waiting for your people to arrive.

At 8:15, three police cars, without lights or sirens, appeared up the block. I signaled to Kate, then stepped off the curb and put up my hand. The lead car flashed his lights and accelerated, then came to a quick halt in front of me. The other two cars stopped at close intervals. I showed my creds to the two cops in the first car and said, “WTC, North Tower, as instructed, no bells or whistles. Loose formation. We’re shooting for an eight-thirty, eight-forty arrival.” I added, “Keep an eye out for company, and don’t stop for anything but a traffic light.”

They both nodded, and the female officer in the passenger seat said, “We’re all briefed.”

“Good.”

Kate, Jill, and Patrolman Alvarez were out on the sidewalk now, and I said to Jill, “Your car is here, madam.”

She smiled and said, “I’ve never ridden in a police car.”

I didn’t want to say “You’ll get used to it,” but I did say, “As discussed, we’ll all meet in the lobby of Windows on the World. You’ll have at least two patrolmen with you at all times.”

Jill said to me and to Kate, “I’ll see you there.”

Jill, I thought, looked composed, and I hoped she stayed that way if it got ugly later. I signaled to Alvarez, and he escorted Jill Winslow into the backseat of the middle car, then returned to where I was standing, as instructed.

Kate and I looked at each other. There wasn’t much left to say at this point, so we just kissed, and she said, “See you later.” She got into the lead car.

I stood there with Patrolman Alvarez and asked him, “Are you feeling mean this morning?”

He smiled. “Yes, sir.”

I took the videotape of
A Man and a Woman
out of my jacket. It was the one that Jill had recorded over, but it didn’t have the jacket on it. I handed it to Alvarez and said to him, “Guard this with your life. And I mean your life.”

He put the tape in the oversized back pocket of his pants, which was made to hold his memo book, and he said to me, “Did you ever hear of anyone taking anything from a New York City cop?”

I slapped him on the shoulder and said, “See you there.”

Alvarez got into the backseat of the middle car, next to Jill.

I walked to the third car and got in. From the trail vehicle, I could see what was going on, and from the lead vehicle, Kate could make any changes to the plans, if necessary. Jill, in the middle car, with Alvarez and two other cops, was in the protected position.

The cop riding shotgun in my car was a sergeant, and he said a few words into his portable radio. The lead car made a U-turn on Central Park South, which not many people can get away with, and off we went in a three-car convoy.

I said to the sergeant, “What’s the route?”

He replied, “We’re going to shoot over to the West Side, unless you have a preference.”

“Sounds good.” I said to him, “Do you understand that some folks might want to fuck with us?”

“Yeah. They can fuck away all they want.”

“Everybody on this detail knows the drill?”

“Yup.”

“So, what do you think of the FBI?”

He laughed and said, “No comment.”

“How about the CIA?”

“Never met one.”

Lucky you. I sat back in the seat and looked at my watch. It was 8:21, and depending on traffic, we’d be maybe fifteen minutes late, which was fine. Nash, the control freak, and his breakfast club would be at least fifteen minutes early anyway, thinking we’d be early. They could sit and sweat into their caffe lattes.

Most meetings are mind-fucking games, and this one was going to be an orgy.

We made our way through traffic, and within ten minutes, we were heading south on Joe DiMaggio Highway, also known as Twelfth Avenue, and while we’re at it, West Street. Whatever, it ran along the Hudson River, and it was a nice drive on a sunny day. The three-car convoy was weaving around traffic, and making better time than the civilians, who’d get a ticket for driving like that.

It was about a five-mile run down to the Trade Center, whose Twin Towers I could see long before we got there.

In my jacket was the video store tape of
A Man and a Woman,
which I’d put inside the cardboard case from Jill’s tape that said, “Property of the Bayview Hotel-Please Return.” If the Feds had any kind of warrant when I got there, they could serve the warrant on me, or Kate, or Jill, and try to take the tape, or us-or the tape
and
us-to another location. But they couldn’t serve a warrant on Patrolman Alvarez, even if they had a clue that he had the X-rated version of the tape.

In any case, I didn’t think Nash and company wanted a major scene in a public restaurant where about three hundred people would be having breakfast. But maybe, if I was in one of my perverse moods, I’d give them my R-rated version of
A Man and a Woman.

I looked through the windshield, and I could see the patrol car with Jill and Alvarez, but I couldn’t see the lead car with Kate. Traffic was moving, but it was erratic, and a lot of truckers were driving badly this morning.

I looked at my watch. 8:31. We’d just passed the 30
th
Street Heliport, and the Chelsea Piers were coming up. About another three miles at this speed, and we’d be pulling up to the Vesey Street side of the North Tower at about 8:45, give or take.

I actually wasn’t expecting any problems on the ride there, or during the walk into the lobby, or in the elevator that went directly to Windows on the World on the 107
th
floor. In fact, I didn’t expect any problems at the breakfast meeting, which was basically a show-and-tell, to see whose dicks were bigger, and whose balls weighed the most.

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