Jones took the last remaining uncompromised burner with her.
‘Just take care, d’ya hear?’ instructed Dom. ‘And I’ll call you. From a pay phone. There’s no way I’m gonna be able to get another safe cell till tomorrow. So I’ll call at eleven p.m. sharp. Right?’
‘Right,’ responded Jones.
She drove slowly through Manhattan to the Bronx, to the place she’d known Ed was referring to as soon as she’d seen his text. Deliberately, she got there an hour early, and parked the Ford a couple of streets away, so she could walk – or rather limp – the last couple of hundred yards.
The earlier heavy rain had stopped, but this was a dark September evening. No moon or stars. There were few people about, and the place was so different from how it had been on her one previous visit. Somewhere inside her head Jones could still hear the noise from the last time. She could still feel the sense of anticipation, and the way the excitement had built inside her.
Now the legendary Yankee Stadium was about as quiet as it was possible for anywhere in New York to be. There was virtually no noise at all. And certainly no happy anticipation. Just a certain sense of foreboding, as far as Jones was concerned.
She would never forget going there with Ed to see a game between the Yankees and the Red Sox – her very first experience of baseball – and Ed would have known that. They had just watched a video of the movie Field of Dreams featuring Kevin Costner as an Iowa farmer who built a baseball diamond in his cornfield. In Costner’s dreams games were played by the ghosts of baseballing legends. Jones had, somewhat to her embarrassment, enjoyed this ultimate feel-good movie rather more than she’d expected, but had shocked Ed, a native New Yorker whose love of the Yankees had been instilled in him by his grandfather at an early age, with her total lack of knowledge about baseball. And by admitting that she had never watched a game. Not even on TV.
He had insisted on taking her to see his team at their famous stadium. And as they’d stood in line to enter, with the thunder of the crowd and the band and the cheerleaders inside already roaring in their ears, she had looked up at the towering 50,000-seater ballpark looming above them, its lights blazing, and remarked, ‘Some cornfield!’
From then on the two of them had always referred to the Yankee stadium as The Cornfield.
On this night, however, the mighty baseball palace was shrouded in darkness, and its sheer size seemed threatening to Jones. But then almost everything, right then, seemed threatening to Jones.
She made her way towards the main entrance, keeping close to the walls, and finally came to a halt in a particularly shadowy spot, avoiding the occasional security lights. She wanted to see him before he saw her, to make sure that he was alone and hadn’t been followed. Or indeed, that he hadn’t brought anyone with him. She knew she must keep alert. For her own preservation. And Connie’s. In any case, she wasn’t sure right then that she trusted anyone in the world.
The minutes ticked slowly by. Ten o clock came and went. She stood, pressed against the stadium’s stone facade, making the most of its protection, watching and waiting. She tried to convince herself that she was calm and in control, but in reality her nerves were standing on end.
A sound to her left caused her to almost jump out of her skin. It was a loud high-pitched howling noise, not unlike the scream of a distressed baby. She turned quickly on her heel, twisting her damaged leg in her haste, but was unable at first to see anything. Then two creatures appeared, as if from nowhere, silhouetted against the street lights, the angle of their shadows making them seem twice the size they really were. Jones breathed a big deep sigh of relief. A pair of alley cats, their backs arched, teeth bared, tails wagging furiously, were facing up to each other in a combat every bit as fierce as any which had ever taken place within the historic ballpark.
Jones relaxed, just a little. She checked the time. Ten twenty-five. Perhaps Ed wasn’t coming. Perhaps something had happened to him. Perhaps he had just changed his mind. The possibilities were endless. Perhaps the Dominator was right. Perhaps Ed was, at that very moment, in the process of arranging some sort of a trap.
She wondered how long she should wait. Indeed how long she could wait without being overwhelmed by weariness and dropping to the ground. She was bone tired again. It had been a long day. Her injured leg was hurting quite badly. Her face hurt too. And her brain was in turmoil.
Minutes later a vehicle finally pulled off the main drag and onto the paved forecourt in front of the stadium, its headlights illuminating almost the entire area. She pushed herself flat against the wall. Was it Ed? And was he alone?
The vehicle drew to a halt straight in front of the main entrance, its headlamps still full on. Jones strained her eyes but was staring directly into the lights and could make out next to nothing. Then suddenly the lights went out. Almost simultaneously she heard the sound of a car door opening and shutting.
Her eyes began to focus again. The vehicle was a small dark saloon car of some kind. There was a figure walking from it towards the gates of the baseball park. She narrowed her eyes, staring into the gloom. It was Ed all right, he’d walked straight into a shaft of light. And he seemed to be alone.
She decided to wait a while to make sure. The traffic on the road beyond continued as normal. No other vehicle had chosen to follow Ed’s onto the stadium forecourt.
Jones took a cautious step forwards, into a better lit area.
Ed appeared to hear her move, and turned quickly.
‘It’s all right, it’s me,’ Jones called softly, remembering her own nerves earlier when she’d heard the cats fighting. She limped her way closer to him.
‘My God, you really are hurt now,’ said Ed. ‘Your face. Your legs …’
‘What is it, Ed?’ Jones asked at once, ignoring his concern. ‘Why did you want to see me?’
‘Well, I was wrong, wasn’t I?’
‘What?’
‘RECAP was the target,’ Ed continued. ‘It had to have been …’
‘Well yes …’
‘And now whoever planted the bomb is after Connie. I heard about Marion …’
‘How? When?’ Jones spoke sharply. Even if Marion’s identity had by now been made public, it certainly hadn’t been earlier that day when Ed had texted her.
‘It’s the talk of Princeton. The police came to see Thomas Jessop, to tell him about his mother. He’d only just got out of hospital himself …’
‘Right. But how did you make the connection? I mean, did you know about … about …?’
‘About Marion and Connie? Yes, I knew. Paul knew too. Although not in the very beginning. You’ve worked in the RECAP lab. Hard place to keep a secret for long. But it certainly wasn’t common knowledge. Paul and I respected their privacy. We never talked about it. But we knew. So, it wasn’t difficult to put two and two together. I heard on the news that there was another woman involved, and I guessed it was you. I also guessed that Marion had probably been attacked by mistake. Am I right?’
‘Yes. Almost certainly.’
‘There are things I have to tell you, Sandy.’
‘Let’s move away from the light.’
She led him into a darker part of the forecourt, and glanced nervously around for the umpteenth time. She presumed Ed had chosen this meeting place because he could give it to her in code, confident that she would know exactly where she meant, and others wouldn’t. But Jones wasn’t sure it was necessarily a safe place to meet.
‘Are you sure you weren’t followed?’ she asked, yet again feeling like a second-rate secret agent in a very second-rate spy film.
Ed nodded and smiled slightly.
‘I borrowed my neighbour’s car, and he agreed to look after Jasper too. I told him my vehicle was off the road. I’m now as paranoid as you. What happened to Marion changed everything. We have an underground garage. My car is still at home, and I didn’t leave on foot. If anyone was watching my place they would think I was still inside. Nobody followed me, Sandy.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. I had to get in touch with you. Had to see you. I copied your trick though. I bought a pre-paid phone.’
‘Perhaps too late. We think the one I was using was blown. Don’t know how else they traced us so fast.’
‘That might be my fault,’ Ed admitted. ‘I called you this morning from my home phone. I half forgot that you’d told me not to. Half didn’t see the need to do anything other. I believed, then, what the authorities said. That the explosion was directed at the animal research people. It made sense. And I certainly didn’t believe that my phone was bugged …’
‘We did wonder,’ said Jones. ‘But, oh Ed …’
Her voice was a mix of reproach and regret.
‘I know. That call probably led them to you. To you and to Connie. Until then they would have thought she was dead. It was all my fault. I can’t believe I was so stupid.’
Jones just stared at him.
‘I will regret it for the rest of my life.’
Ed’s head was bowed. His voice had a quiver in it.
‘I will never get over the guilt.’
‘We’ve all been stupid,’ Jones responded quietly. ‘Me big time. The likes of you and I are not equipped for stuff like this, Ed. We do it all wrong. I should never have told you that Connie was alive. You didn’t need to know. I put you in danger, and I put her in even more danger. We’ve seen just how much now. Marion may not pull through, and if she does she’s going to be maimed for life. You and I share responsibility. But we couldn’t believe any of it was really happening, could we? We’re not professional spooks. We didn’t know what to do. Still don’t.’
‘I should have listened.’
‘Maybe.’ Jones felt numb. ‘You didn’t want to meet me just to tell me that, did you?’
Ed shook his head.
‘Do you remember my brother?’ he asked. ‘My younger brother Mikey? He was living with our aunt in New York when you and I were at Princeton together. Used to visit at weekends sometimes.’
Jones was puzzled. ‘I remember him vaguely. I only met him once or twice, I think. He was just a boy.’
Ed smiled. ‘Only a couple of years younger than me, actually. But he took a long time growing up, did Mikey. If he ever made it, at all.’
‘Funny kid, wasn’t he? Always making up stories. Seemed to live in a fantasy world. Didn’t you used to call him Walter, after Walter Mitty?’
‘Yes. And he was a funny kid. But not so funny now. He’s in the FBI.’
‘Oh fuck.’ Jones dreaded to think what that might mean. But in spite of everything she managed a strangled laugh. ‘Mikey in the FBI? I don’t believe it.’
‘I know. I’ve never been able to take him seriously either. That’s been part of the problem …’
‘What do you mean?’ Jones prompted.
‘Well, for a long time I really didn’t believe he was in the FBI. After he left college he had a string of jobs, in real estate, working for a finance firm, in security. But there was always more to everything than there seemed, or according to Mikey there was, anyway. His stories got more and more outlandish. It was just Mikey, or so I thought. Same thing when he told me the FBI had its eye on RECAP. I never took any notice. I never told him anything. I didn’t have anything to tell anyway. Well, nothing much …’
He glanced anxiously at Jones, as if seeking her acceptance of that.
‘You knew that Paul thought he had made a breakthrough,’ she said.
‘Yes. I did. But that was all I knew.’
A thought suddenly struck Jones. The Man in Black. Her anonymous interrogator at Princeton police station. He’d seemed vaguely familiar at the time. Of course, that had to have been Mikey.
‘I think I met him,’ Jones said suddenly. ‘Was he at Princeton when I was arrested there?’
Ed nodded.
‘And does he have a penchant for shades and black suits?’
Ed nodded again.
‘My God,’ Jones blurted out. ‘The man’s a parody. He looked like some sort of a joke.’
‘I know. I certainly could never take him seriously, not until …’
His voice broke off.
‘Until what, Ed?’
‘Until after the explosion. It was Mikey who assured me that there was no link between any government body and the explosion, and that RECAP wasn’t a target of any sort. The FBI supported RECAP. Those were his words. He came around right after the explosion to reassure me that all the speculation about RECAP having been deliberately destroyed was nonsense. He said then, straight away, that it was probably a gas explosion. A tragic accident. But he warned me not to talk to anyone about Paul. Said it might still be possible to salvage something from RECAP.’
‘He warned you not to talk about Paul? So did he know about Paul’s breakthrough? Did you tell him about it?’
‘No. Well, not exactly. But he asked so many questions. Was I privy to Paul’s work? It was nonsense, of course. I was just an occasional RECAP operator. I didn’t even have anything like the involvement I’d had when you were at Princeton.’
‘You had a special relationship with Paul, though, everybody knew that.’
‘So it seems. Anyway, Mikey came round again the night you just showed up at my place, and also after you came back and hijacked me walking Jasper. That time he was quite aggressive. He wanted to know exactly what you were after. I’d never seen him be aggressive before. He kept going on about Paul’s work. Even asked me if I had copies of it. As if I would. Like I told you.’
Suddenly the relative quiet of the night was shattered by the sound of a police siren. Both Jones and Ed jumped, quite literally. A police patrol car came into view, travelling fast, carving a path through the light traffic. Its headlights illuminated Ed’s vehicle as it approached. But it didn’t even slow, instead roaring straight past the Yankee Stadium, the wail of its siren fading into the night.
‘Nerves,’ said Jones.
Ed nodded, and continued. ‘Anyway, Mikey was very persistent. And he was on edge. Just like us now. He was obviously wound up about something, but, as usual, he wouldn’t talk to me properly. He kept checking text messages on his cell, and pacing around the place. He was sweating a lot. He took off his jacket and hung it around a chair. Then at one point he went out of the room with his cell phone, said he needed to take a private call. Well, I don’t know quite what made me do it, what gave me the idea, but, well, I knew he kept a USB data store on his key ring. I looked in his jacket pockets. I found the key ring. My laptop was on the kitchen table as usual. I plugged the USB in and downloaded everything that was on it. Then I just put the USB back in his pocket.’
Jones had a feeling she knew where this might be leading.
‘And?’ she prompted.
‘Well, after Mikey left I went through his files. There was one labelled Ruders. I went into it. It was Paul’s work. His data. His breakthrough paper. I’m sure of it.’
‘Jesus. Did you study it?’
‘I tried to. I couldn’t make any sense of it, though. But I didn’t expect to. I’m not a scientist, Sandy. I’m a mathematician.’
‘So, where is it? My God, this could be the key to everything. Have you got your laptop with you?’
‘Yes, but … but I wiped the file off. Irrevocably.’
‘You did what? Why? Just tell me you made a copy,’
‘I did.’
‘So you still have the file, Ed?’
‘No. Well, not exactly … Mikey frightened me that night. He had assured me from the start that RECAP hadn’t been the target of the explosion, but at that moment I didn’t believe it anymore. And why was he so interested in whether or not I had a copy of Paul’s theory when he already had one himself? What lengths might his people go to to silence me? I was scared. So I copied the file onto another USB, and wiped it off my computer. I didn’t want to trust email. Plus Mikey is still my brother, and I didn’t want to leave a trail that might lead to
him. I put the USB in a jiffy bag, and first thing this morning I took it round to the post office and sent it off, anonymously, to you at your university in England—’
‘You did what?’ Jones interrupted.
‘I posted it to you. Express. It should only take two or three working days.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘I know. At least it’s safe. But that, of course, was before I saw the news this morning. The authorities officially blamed animal rights activists for the explosion, and Mikey called me, backing that up. I believed it. I phoned you and told you that. For a while I was quite sure I’d got it all wrong, that you and Connie had got it all wrong, that I’d let my imagination run away with me, and RECAP had nothing to do with—’
‘And the “pal in the police” you referred to, was actually your mad brother, the FBI agent, I presume,’ Jones interrupted again.
‘Yes.’
‘For God’s sake, Ed! Did you tell Mikey that Connie was still alive?’
‘No. I didn’t. I promise you I didn’t.’
‘Do you really expect me to believe that?’
‘I didn’t. I swear. I suppose I still had niggling doubts at the back of my mind. I’m not sure. But, well, if my phone is bugged …’
Ed didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. If the FBI, or anyone else, had been monitoring Ed’s calls they would have learned from his conversation with Jones that Connie Pike was alive and well. And it wouldn’t have taken them long to get a trace – fifteen seconds, Dom had said. Neither would it have taken them long to position someone outside Dom’s apartment. Someone murderous.
‘I can’t believe Mikey would hurt Connie, though,’ Ed continued. ‘Jesus. I can’t believe Mikey would hurt anyone.’
Jones sighed. ‘I don’t suppose he did. Not personally, that is. It really does look like Connie’s conspiracy theory is right, Ed. All sorts of persons in high places could be involved. And they would have on their payroll, and in their control, the kind of people most of us don’t even want to know exist. People whose life’s work it is to perform little jobs like mowing down an innocent woman in the street.
Cry Darkness Page 19