Tonight I Said Goodbye (St. Martin's Minotaur Mystery)

by Michael Koryta

  Ah, Joe. Always on the blunt side.

  "Yes," Julie said, not offended by his remark, "there certainly are. But Betsy doesn't need to be here while we attend to them."

  I was afraid Joe might suggest we lock the girl in a closet, but apparently he was in a tenderhearted mood, because he just shrugged, leaving the decision up to Julie.

  "Speaking of nail polish," Amy said, "I've got some in my purse." She looked at Betsy. "Would you like to paint your nails, honey? You can pick the color." Betsy nodded, and Amy took her into the bedroom and left her with enough nail polish to coat her entire body. It would keep the kid occupied for a while, though. Joe looked at me and sighed.

  Amy came back out of the bedroom, and Julie pulled the door shut and sat on the couch. A little cloud of dust rose up from the old cushion. She took a deep breath, rubbed her temples lightly with her fingers, and then looked up and forced a smile.

  "All right," she said. "Where do we start?"

  "We start by planning a course of action," Joe said. "I understand you're afraid, Mrs. Weston, and I understand the reasons you had for not contacting the police, but that has to stop now. You have testimony and a tape that can put several people in jail. Several people who need to be put in jail."

  She nodded. "I understand that. But I also understand what will happen to me if I go to the police, Mr. Pritchard. There will be trials, won't there? There will be trials for the Russian murderers, and there will be a trial for Jeremiah Hubbard, and probably a trial for whoever killed Randy Hartwick. Trials that will likely last for months. And I'll be expected to testify at them, right? At all of them. What happens to my daughter during that time? She won't be allowed to go to school, because people may try to abduct her or kill her. We won't be allowed to live in our home, for the same reasons. So she's going to spend the next six months--the next year, maybe--hidden away someplace with bodyguards? In the summer, when she should be at the swimming pool or playing with her friends, she's going to be tucked away out of sight? Oh, and of course I won't be able to allow her to turn on the television or pick up a newspaper, because she's going to see Daddy's face staring back at her or hear the television newscasters talking about the trials. I will not let that happen to my daughter, Mr. Pritchard."

  "With all due respect, Mrs. Weston, I don't care," Joe said. "You have information about several serious crimes. You need to come forward with that information."

  "What information?" she said, spreading her hands. "I have a tape of a murder. I've never even seen it. So give them the tape. The only testimony I could provide would be about my husband's work with Jeremiah Hubbard. I don't know anything about these Russian men. He didn't tell me anything, and I did not ask. But I have that tape, and if I give that to the police, people are going to want to kill me. If I don't give it to the police, they're going to want to kill me." She smiled bitterly. "I'm not very well liked."

  "So what do you want to do?" Joe said, and I could tell he was fighting to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

  "I want to tell people the truth," she said, and there was something in her voice that made me think of the night in the whirlpool, of the press of her body against mine. "I want to make it clear that my daughter and I are alive and that my husband was not a killer, and then I want to leave. I can't stay here, obviously. Wayne understood that, and that's why he tried to run. He can't leave anymore, but I can. And I can take my daughter with me."

  "Where are you going to go?" Joe asked.

  She smiled. "Please don't think I lack trust in any of you, but I'll keep that information to myself."

  Joe shrugged. "Fine. But I have to say that might be the stupidest idea I've ever heard."

  "Why's that?"

  "You're afraid people are going to come after you for revenge, right? Well, if that's true, why not go into witness protection and let the professionals help you disappear? It's a much safer bet than running on your own."

  "He has a point," I said.

  She shook her head. "Ifwe go into witness protection, there will be people who know where we are. Someone, somewhere, will have the paperwork. Do you think Jeremiah Hubbard can't buy that information? Do you think some clerk is going to turn down five, ten, fifteen million dollars just to give him an address?"

  Joe frowned. "I thought we were worried about the Russians coming after you. Now it's Hubbard?"

  "It's everyone, Mr. Pritchard. My husband was very good at what he did. He made plans for our . . . our disappearance, I guess you'd say. I trust my husband's ability much more than I trust any government agency."

  "She may not have to testify," I said, and they all looked at me. "She could sit down and give an interview to the prosecutor's office or the district attorney, sign an affidavit, and go on her way. They'll want her to testify, but it's better to give them something instead of nothing. This could be taken care of much quicker, and she and Betsy can be gone much quicker."

  Joe shot me a look that said if he wanted any of my input he'd beat it out of me, and then he turned back to Julie.

  "Ignore my dim-witted partner," he said. "I'm not interested in issues of testimony or affidavits anymore. I'm just telling you that this idea you have of disappearing on your own is not a good one. People can be found, Mrs. Weston. We already found you once, and that was basically an accident. Do you really think you can hide from people determined to locate you?"

  She leaned forward, gazing directly into his unhappy face, meeting him head-on in a clash of will and determination, and it seemed as if there were only the two of them in the room.

  "Either way, we're going to have to leave this place behind," she said. "The life we knew is gone now. My husband is dead. Betsy is the only thing I have left, and I am going to take care of her on my terms. End of story." She pointed at Amy. "I will do an interview with her, and she will see that the truth is told. If you insist that I provide the police with an affidavit, I will do that. But then I will leave, and I will take my daughter with me. I have broken no laws, and no one can force me to stay here."

  For a long time, Joe held her stare. Then he sighed and leaned back in his seat. "All right, Mrs. Weston. If you want to disappear again, we can't stop you. But we can see that you do it right."

  She smiled at him, and this time there was warmth behind it. "Thank you."

  Joe waved his hand at Amy. "Go ahead and do your thing, Lois Lane. Is that a video camera I see?"

  "Yes. Lincoln told me to bring it and an inkpad for fingerprints."

  "He's not always dumb," Joe said, "just most of the time. Get to work, then. We'll leave you alone." He looked at me and cocked his head in the direction of the deck. "LP, I'd like to see you outside for a minute."

  We went outside as Amy got to work setting up the video camera. I could tell she was excited, and I didn't blame her; this was going to be the story of her career. I'd be sure to remind her of that in the future anytime I needed a favor.

  Joe and I stood together on the deck, leaning against the railing and watching through the window as Amy and Julie talked.

  "You don't like it, do you?" I said.

  He leaned over the railing and spit onto the grass. "No, LP, I don't like it one damn bit. This isn't a group of teenage punks she's dealing with; it's the most sophisticated organized crime outfit in the world. And one of the wealthiest--and apparently most devious--men in the state. Hiding from them isn't going to be easy."

  "When Amy runs this story, Hubbard's going to be under fire. He's going to have bigger things on his mind than finding Julie and Betsy."

  "You think so?" He shrugged. "It may piss him off enough to make finding them his priority. But I'm more concerned with the Russians, at least for the immediate future. That tape is going to put a few of them in jail, and it's also going to stir up some serious internal trouble when Belov finds out who killed his son. That adds up to some major motivation for them to find this woman and eliminate her. Even after we've turned the tape in, they'll want her dead. You know how
these mob guys are; revenge is the highest priority to them. And whacking Belov's son wasn't a one-man decision. For every guy that tape puts in jail, there will be three more on the streets who had a hand in it and will want Julie Weston dead."

  "How much power does Belov have?"

  "Everything I've learned in the past two days suggests he has a lot of power. He's big time."

  "Perfect. We can utilize that power. I'm thinking Belov would be awfully interested in seeing that tape. Could be, he's even so interested in seeing it he'd be willing to make it clear to anyone involved that Julie and Betsy are not to be harmed. After all, they're not producing a tape that will hurt him. They're producing something he wants to see."

  Joe stared at me, considering the idea. "True. But the people the Westons need to fear clearly aren't doing a good job of following through on Belov's wishes. They killed his son, LP."

  "I figure once he has that tape he'll go about handling the situation in his own way. A serious housecleaning is what I'm picturing."

  Joe nodded thoughtfully, understanding. "Some people are probably going to die."

  "Hell," I said, "they're going to die anyhow. When we turn that tape over to the police, it's a matter of time until the contents leak back to Belov. But if we wait until then, we'll have nothing to use for leverage."

  "So we're going to use the Russian mob to protect Julie and Betsy from the Russian mob?"

  "Complex," I said, "but probably efficient."

  Joe sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "This means we've got to talk to Belov, doesn't it?"

  "Into the belly of the beast," I said.

  "You know, LP, things are much calmer around here when you're out of town."

  "I missed you, too."

  CHAPTER 22

  AMY INTERVIEWED Julie for an hour and a half. Betsy came out of the bedroom midway through the interview and joined Joe and me on the deck. Her fingernails were painted in half a dozen different colors; Amy packed plenty of nail polish in that enormous purse. Joe found an old Frisbee in the cottage, and we tossed it around with Betsy while Amy and Julie finished up inside. The air was cool--frigid compared to South Carolina--but not as bad as it had been when I left the city. Maybe winter was going to lose this battle after all. Around one that afternoon, Amy came out and motioned for me to join her on the deck. I tossed the Frisbee to Joe and jogged up the steps.

  "Huge, Lincoln," Amy said when I reached her. "Absolutely huge. This is the story of my dreams." She was smiling widely.

  "Glad I could help, Ace. Only problem is, you can't write it for tomorrow."

  She frowned. "How long do I have to sit on it?"

  "At least another day. Joe and I have to sort out a few things before you can run it. Before you even can mention it to your editors."

  "What things?"

  "We're going to see Dainius Belov."

  She raised her eyebrows and folded her arms across her chest. "You're kidding, right? Or are you just suicidal?"

  "I don't think we've got much to fear from Belov. Remember, it was his son they killed. Joe and I are guessing old Dainius is awfully interested in finding out who murdered his kid. We're counting on a little cooperation in exchange for a copy of the tape."

  "You're giving him a copy of the tape?"

  I nodded. "That's where you come in. Do you guys have equipment for that sort of thing?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. We're going to need a copy of the murder tape, and you probably should make a copy of your interview tape as well. Leave copies of both tucked away someplace safe, and then bring me back one copy of the murder tape and the original."

  "Sure thing, boss. The technology guys won't want to leave me alone while I'm copying the tapes, but that's nothing I can't get past using my feminine wiles."

  "Feminine wiles," I said. "Uh-huh."

  She winked at me. "There's nothing more fun than being a tease."

  Julie stepped out on the deck behind us and smiled at me. "Is my daughter driving Mr. Pritchard crazy yet?"

  "He's been crazy for years, Julie. She can't do any more harm to him."

  Amy poked my chest with her finger. "All right, I'm outta here. But I need that tape if you want me to make a copy of it."

  I went down to the Contour and took the tape out from under the driver's seat where I'd stashed it. I didn't like handing it over to Amy; the thing attracted danger and death like a James Bond car. But I needed a copy.

  "Keep this damn thing out of sight," I said. "Can you bring the copies back out tonight, or is that a problem?"

  "It's a long drive, but I'll do it." She opened her car door but didn't get in. "How long has it been since you slept, Lincoln?"

  "A few hours, at least."

  "Go to bed, stud. You'll need some energy when you're arrested."

  She left, and I walked back up the steps and onto the deck. Joe was still playing with Betsy in the yard. I sat down at the picnic table beside Julie and shook my head.

  "He looks like a doting grandpa out there. Amazing."

  She laughed. "He seems more taken with my daughter than he is with me, that's for sure."

  "Don't let his attitude bother you. He just wants to handle the situation in the way he thinks best."

  She looked at me. "Do you think I'm a fool, Lincoln?"

  "For trying to run on your own?" I shrugged. "I don't know, Julie. I'd like to work things out so you didn't have to run at all. But I don't see that happening. If you stay in town, you're taking a huge risk. In general, I'd advise you to let the professionals help you hide, but Wayne was a professional, and you seem to think he had things pretty well planned."

  "He did."

  "Do you have enough money?"

  She smiled. "We've got plenty of money. Wayne put all our money into an offshore account, and then he put some of Hubbard's money into it as well. It was Hubbard's payoff for Wayne keeping his mouth shut."

  I didn't ask how much money it was. It was probably quite a lot. I yawned, and Julie frowned.

  "You still haven't slept, have you?"

  I shook my head.

  "Go inside and lie down," she ordered. "Your partner is here to keep us safe. You need to sleep."

  I started to object but then thought better of it. I did need sleep, and as long as Joe was here there was no point in continuing to exhaust myself. I told Julie I'd take a nap, and then I went down to talk to Joe.

  "I'm going to grab a few hours of sleep," I said. "Think you can keep them safe while I do?"

  "Can't do a much worse job than you have," he said. "Go sleep. When you wake up, I'll drive back into the city and see if I can arrange a meeting with Belov."

  I went inside and lay down on a narrow, musty bed. The door was closed, but the sounds of Julie's voice and Betsy's laugh were with me as I fell asleep.

  When I woke again the room was dark. I rolled onto my side and looked at the window, saw nothing but shadows outside. I looked at my watch. Almost seven. I'd slept for nearly six hours. I climbed out of the bed, pulled my pants and T-shirt back on, and went into the living room. Joe, Julie, and Betsy were sitting at the small square table in the kitchen with a pile of playing cards in front of them.

  "Hi, Lincoln!" Betsy waved at me. "We're playing Go Fish. Wanna play?"

  I looked at Joe. "Go Fish?"

  He grunted. "It's more intense than I expected."

  "I keep beating him," Betsy said, and Joe shot her a sour look that made her laugh. I caught Julie's eye and grinned. Joe Pritchard and his new best friend Betsy. How adorable.

  I sat in the living room while they finished their game, and then Joe came out to join me.

  "About time you got up, Sleeping Beauty. I was running out of games to play with the kid. If you'd slept any longer, I was going to teach her how to clean a handgun."

  "Lovely."

  "I'm going to head back to the city now," he said. "It's going to take some time to get in touch with Belov. When I do reach him, he may want to meet with us i
mmediately, or he may want to do it tomorrow."

  "Try for tomorrow," I said. "I don't want to leave Julie and Betsy alone."

  "Okay. But with a guy like Belov, there's no dictating the schedule. If he says to meet him at midnight at home plate in Jacobs Field, we're going to meet him at midnight at home plate in Jacobs Field. Understand?"

  "Yeah. Hey, did Gellino leave any food in this dump?" My brain might have taken six hours off, but my stomach hadn't forgotten that my last meal had been nearly ten hours earlier.

  "Not much, but Lois Lane is bringing food with her."

  "She is?"

  "Yeah, she called while you were asleep, and I answered your phone. She said she made copies of the tapes, and she'll be out here in about twenty minutes. I told her to be sure no one's following her. I'm not expecting anyone will be, but it doesn't hurt to watch your back."

  Joe left, and Amy arrived shortly after. She brought a pizza with her, which made Betsy's day. I carried wood in from the pile under the deck and started a fire, and the four of us sat beside it, eating the pizza and playing silly card games. The night before, I'd been exchanging gunfire with professional killers and dangling from a seventh-floor balcony; now I was chaperoning a Girl Scout slumber party. The varied experiences of a professional detective. And to think, some men are car salesmen or accountants. What a bore.

  Amy left around nine, and I promised to call her the next morning with more information on our plans and when she could run the story. At ten, Joe called.

  "If you've got a copy of the tape, I've got Belov," he said.

  "Amy brought them by. When and where do we meet Belov?"

  "Tomorrow morning. And you'll love the place."

  "Where?"

  "Inside Tower City Mall, next to the fountain."

  "You're kidding me. The city's most dangerous gangster wants to meet us in the mall?"

  "Uh-huh. My guess is we won't stay there long, though. He probably wants to start in a public place so he can be sure we aren't setting him up. Once we show, I imagine his thugs will send us elsewhere to meet him."