Notorious (30 page)

T
he nearest emergency room
was at Long Island College Hospital in Brooklyn Heights. Melanie caught a ride there with Tommy Yee, arriving in time to wait with Jennifer for what seemed like forever until the triage nurse got around to admitting her. This was Brooklyn, and the nurse gave them to understand that a little pistol-whipping was hardly her most serious problem tonight.

When Jennifer was finally admitted, Melanie was instructed to stay behind in the waiting room. No room inside for visitors, the nurse said. Tommy Yee had been allowed in to pace around while the agents who'd been shot went to surgery, but apparently Tommy's shield was a more persuasive admission ticket than Melanie's creds. Either that or the nurse had just taken a personal dislike to her. Melanie sat down in an uncomfortable plastic chair and contemplated the madness—people bleeding, moaning, screaming in pain, while others read newspapers or made phone calls like nothing unusual was going on. She thought she heard somebody mention Atari Briggs's name but then decided that it had been her imagination.

She was nodding off, her head throbbing, when the sliding-glass
doors parted and Mark Sonschein strode in. His somber eyes and grim mouth gave an even more alarming appearance than usual under the harsh fluorescent lights.

“What are you doing here?” Melanie asked.

The answer to the question was so obvious that Mark didn't bother replying.

“How's Jennifer?” he asked instead.

“She was pistol-whipped pretty badly, but no lasting damage. How is she otherwise? Not great.”

Mark shook his head. “That girl needs help.”

“I know. I can't believe nobody picked that up on that during the application process, especially with her history. We should review our screening process.”

“She graduated cum laude from Yale Law School and had a glowing reference from Judge Fox. What were we supposed to do, not hire her because she was abused as a child? That hardly seems fair.”

“You're right. Well, maybe she can get psychiatric care as part of her sentence.”

“There won't be any sentence.”

Melanie looked at him in astonishment.

“I've made an executive decision not to prosecute,” Mark said. “There's nobody left for her to cooperate against with the driver and Diamond both dead and—”

“Diamond's dead?”

“Yes, didn't Tommy tell you?”

“No, he's been inside for over an hour. What happened?”

“Oh, it's bigger than that. Did you know the Bureau had Kevin Bonner under surveillance?”

“Yes. But in Las Vegas, right?”

“Uh-uh, here. He landed at LaGuardia last night. FBI and DEA did a joint operation. They fielded big teams and had an eyeball on him every step of the way. Around six-thirty this evening, Bonner
met up with Diamond and Atari Briggs. They had dinner in an expensive restaurant, then went to a meeting at a warehouse in Greenpoint with a major Pakistani heroin supplier. When the meeting ended, they split up. DEA nabbed the supplier, and he gave them all the details about the drug deal. Diamond and Bonner eventually met back up with Atari at his hotel in Soho.”

Mark stopped.

“And?” Melanie demanded.

“You're not gonna believe this.”

She smacked him on the arm. “Tell me.”

“There was a shoot-out. Diamond's dead. Atari Briggs is dead, too, and one of his bodyguards. Bonner and another bodyguard are in custody.”

“Atari's
dead? You're right, I don't believe it. You know what this means, don't you?” she asked.

“Yes. After all that work, you don't get to try your big case.”

“We were gonna lose, anyway.”

“Look on the bright side. This protects your win–loss record. Susan is very relieved.”

“So, what happened? I mean, they're meeting about some big drug deal, everything is hunky-dory, and then—?”

“The Bureau believes it was an ambush,” Mark said. “Apparently one of the bodyguards asked a hotel maid to find him a pushcart, you know, like they use for laundry? He gave her a hundred bucks to bring it to Atari's room and then disappear.”

“A laundry cart? Why?”

“To remove the bodies. Atari had it all planned, to get back at Diamond and Bonner for trying to hit him years ago. It just didn't play out quite like he hoped.”

“Amazing.” Melanie shook her head.

“Oh, one other thing.”

“Yes?”

“I was over at the hotel. I took a look at the crime scene. We have jurisdiction over these murders if you want to work on them. Anyway, your friend Dan O'Reilly was there.”

“Is he all right?”

“Fine. He just asked that you call him, that's all.”

M
ark intended to wait
for Jennifer Lamont to be released and give her the official news that she wouldn't be prosecuted. Not much would happen to Jennifer, in fact. Apparently, after consulting with Main Justice, Mark had decided that the best course was to allow her to resign voluntarily and tell prospective employers that she'd had difficulty dealing with stress on the job. She wouldn't even be referred for disciplinary proceedings with the state bar. If Melanie hadn't known the girl, she would have viewed this as a wrist slap bordering on unacceptable whitewash. But under the circumstances, she understood. She certainly hoped Jennifer would appreciate the narrow escape and benefit from it, though she was cynical enough these days to fear otherwise.

Philippe Poe would be dealt with more harshly. Melanie had detailed to Mark everything she'd learned about Philippe's involvement in blackmailing and murdering his stepmother. They'd contacted the DA's Office, and a warrant was being drawn up for Philippe's arrest. The NYPD would execute it as soon as the ink was dry in order to be certain he didn't flee the country.

Released from the need to wait for Jennifer, Melanie was free to go. Maybe it was the fact that she'd come close to death that night, or that others had come even closer and she'd gotten a good look at the results. But Melanie found that she couldn't ignore Dan's message, and before she knew it, she was on the phone with him, agreeing to meet him for a drink at a bar in Soho not far from the hotel where Atari Briggs and Evan Diamond had died.

Melanie got there first, and ended up waiting at a table in the corner sipping a scotch and soda—not her usual, but Chardonnay wasn't enough to get the things she'd seen that day out of her head. She saw Dan before he saw her, and the sight of him took her breath away. The height, the sheer massive power of the man. And that face, those eyes, that hair. Whatever happened in her life from now on, she wasn't likely to be with a man as gorgeous as him again.

He saw her and came right over, not stopping to order a drink.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said, sliding into the chair across from her.

“It's okay. Just one drink, though.”

“That's all I'm asking. I heard what happened tonight. Are you okay?”

“I'll make it. But this stuff with people dying, it's getting a little old.”

He grinned—that high-wattage, movie-star smile of his, crinkling up the corners of his blue eyes.

“Maybe we should quit and move to a tropical island somewhere,” he said. “Open up a little burger shack on the beach. Not to brag, but I'm an ace at flipping burgers.”

She shook her head. “It's hard to hear you say things like that. There is no ‘we' now.”

“Well.” Dan looked down at his hands, then up at her again, and she could tell that it cost him an effort to have to ask. “I was hoping you'd give me another chance. That's the real reason I wanted to see you tonight. To ask you for that.”

“I'm sorry. I can't do that. I need to be by myself. I need it to be just me and Maya for a while. I need to sort things out.”

“For how long?”

But Melanie merely shook her head. She stood up and laid some money on the table. She wouldn't let him pay for her drink. But Dan grabbed her hand, and the feel of his powerful fingers on hers brought back memories that seemed to linger somewhere under her skin.

“How long?” he asked again.

“I don't know. I wish I could tell you. Maybe a long time. It's not like I'm planning to be with anybody else, but I can't be with you right now, either. So don't wait.”

He got to his feet, towering over her, and took her face gently in his two hands.

“You know me. You can tell me not to wait, but I'll wait anyway. I'm like a dog that way. Be safe getting home, okay?”

And he leaned down and brushed his lips across her forehead.