“My little boy’s growing up to be so gorgeous. After we get the money we’re owed I’ll get you some tutors, Kristian. We’ll get you to pass your SAT exams and you can go to college. You can choose to be anything you want to be.”
“Leave it alone, Mom. No amount of tutoring will fix this brain. It’s dead stupid.”
Hadn’t she told him that often enough when he mixed up his letters, when he failed to read instructions or directions. Teachers had often followed suit, leaving him limping through the few classes he did attend.
“Doesn’t matter, I’ll look after you. I’ll get cleaned up, go to rehab again. Maybe we can even buy a house somewhere and settle down. Be a real family together.”
His T-shirt was bunched between her clenched fingers. He pried them apart and used the tail of his shirt to wipe her running nose. He tightened an arm around her to keep her moving in a steady line. His sense of smell and direction indicated they were close to the river, but he didn’t know the streets around them. Karen had called him and he had used his phone’s GPS function to track her down.
A few minutes ago he had picked her up from a converted basement, more reminiscent of a dungeon than a tenement, with crudely poured concrete floors and a ceiling riddled with wires running along support beams. The building had an air of resignation repeated in the customers lining up for their hits. His presence had been greeted by huddles of whispers from the dealer’s other customers as he searched for her.
He hated finding Karen slumped on a sofa that had seen better days, her body entangled with that of a stranger. As Kristian dragged her from underneath, the man lifted his head, showing gouged, soulless eyes and yellowed teeth that reminded Kristian of a feral dog. He felt everyone’s desperation suck at the soles of his shoes as he walked her out of the basement.
“Jesus, Karen, how did you find this dump?”
“I found the right hipster who knew where the best party drugs are going down and he was more than happy to share that knowledge.”
Kristian kept her walking along side streets, avoiding the main roads. But he knew he was going to have to hit a subway before her legs gave way. He could follow the GPS signal back to the ShangriLa but Karen would never make it. Her body was shuddering against him and her legs kept giving way as though she was stepping into holes. This reaction was way worse than usual.
“What’ve you taken?”
“This has been a special week so I deserved something special.”
Where had she got the money? He wondered if Augustus Dickerson had bankrolled her, either because he was confident about the court decision or because Karen had offered him more personal favors. Unless she’d managed to dip into his new trust fund.
“What the hell does that mean?” he ground out.
“Speedball. It was the best.”
Kristian knew she was talking about a mixture of cocaine and heroin, a potentially lethal cocktail.
“Why didn’t you just send me out to buy the stuff for you?”
Without warning she lashed him, her nails catching his cheek and ripping skin, leaving a trail of blood.
He winced. “What’s that for?”
He dabbed away the blood with his shirttail and tried to get an arm under her shoulders. She danced away from him, twirling on her toes.
“I used to dance. I used to dance with your father. I loved him, you know. I really did.”
She crashed to the ground, sobs racking her bony shoulders. “I loved him, I loved him so much. He was a good man.” Her expression changed again, her lips curling back from her teeth. “Such a damn do-gooder! He wanted to cure me. He wanted me to be straight. He thought that was enough to keep us together!”
Her arms twitched and trembled as she hugged herself, gasping and coughing.
An approaching couple crossed the street to avoid passing them. Kristian looked around. Ahead of them he could see a main road and he tried to decipher the letters on the sign. B-O-W. Or was it Y? Or V? The letters wavered in front of his eyes making it even harder to read.
“It hurts, Ty. It hurts so much.” The words came stuttering from between chattering teeth.
“What does?”
Once more he tried to drag her to her feet, using his strength to support her.
“My heart. God, I think my heart is breaking!”
Karen clutched her chest, and suddenly vomited. Chunks of vomit splashed against his sneakers before he could shift out of the way.
“Mom, what in hell was in that speedball?” Fear lent a quaver to his voice. He ripped off his shirt to wipe at her chin and chest, pulling stuck strands of hair away from her face. Her arms hung slack by her sides and her head lolled on her neck when he let her go.
He raced along the street, grabbing a young Asian man by the shoulder.
“Tell me, tell me, please, where are we?”
The man shook himself free, exposing a switchblade knife. Kristian backtracked, bolting for the main street behind. There was more foot traffic here: men, women, couples and families moving between stores and restaurants. He stopped a young couple. Panic made his voice loud and strident. “What street is this? What area?”
The man shoved the woman behind him, backing away from Kristian. Kristian held his arms out, open palmed to show he was unarmed.
“Please, I’m a tourist. I just need to know what street I’m on!”
Still stepping away, the other man said, “Bowery. You’re in lower east Manhattan.”
Kristian grabbed for his phone, hurtling back down the side street to where Karen still lay huddled.
“What’s your emergency please?”
“Ambulance! I need a freaking ambulance right now. I’m near Bowery. My mother’s just overdosed. She’s having trouble breathing!”
Chapter 25
FBI Offices, Federal Plaza,
Thursday, 26 April
At the end of a frustrating day, Cole called into his temporary office in the impressive glass building on Federal Plaza. Since last night’s dinner with Eisley and his rejection of her subtle invitation to share a bed, he had preferred to work from his hotel room.
His day had started with a 7:00 a.m. call from Fausch pressuring him to get the security footage proving the Dresdens were holed up at QBE. The conversation hadn’t gone well. He didn’t feel any better when Nolan Weaver’s phone call mid-morning proved the team back in London were scaring up more information than he was in New York.
Nolan had revisited the Dresdens’ neighbors and his interrogation had turned up a vital piece of news.
“From speaking with the neighbors previously we were aware that Lander Dresden wasn’t seen on the premises for long stretches of time,” Nolan said. “We had it on record that Sophie Dresden told one neighbor that Lander ‘was receiving extra medical care.’ One neighbor has been overseas in Morocco all this time, but she returned last week, so I went back to the street to do some more door-knocking.
“Mrs Rachel Stone remembers bumping into Lander twice, early in the morning when she was putting out her rubbish for bin day. The first time she thinks was the second week of January, last year. She pinpointed the date because it was only a few days before she flew to Morocco. Apparently she winters there most years. She saw Sophie and Lander drive away together that morning. The second time she thinks was around the middle of last year because it was warmer. Lander was getting into a taxi and the vehicle window was open so she heard him tell the driver to head to Heathrow because ‘he had a 9:15 flight to catch’. Mrs Stone confirms bin day is Tuesday, so I checked into departures from Heathrow on Tuesdays.”
“Do I win a prize for pegging the 9:15 departure as a direct flight to New York?” Cole said. “Under his own name or a fake ID?”
“There’s no one on the Passenger Name Register as Lander Dresden, and no matches for matching the surnames Booker or Kirkland so he must have used an unrelated name. I’m running some matches from January right through June to September last year, but it’s taking time.�
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“Good work, Nolan. It’s another piece of the puzzle indicating that QBE is the destination the Dresdens were interested in. I wonder if the breakthrough QBE announced in January last year swayed them to pick this facility. The timing is spot on, unless it’s coincidental. When I spoke with Dr. Tomei, the CEO, he indicated that this type of experimental research is time-consuming. The exoskeletons take quite a bit of technical adjusting to perfect to each recipient. It’s not a matter of just hoisting on a suit and going for a walk. I’d say that Lander’s been having treatment on and off for the past year.”
“That’s the consensus in the office as well,” Nolan said. “All we need now is a visual sighting. Are you sure the Dresdens haven’t already abandoned New York? Maybe Sophie Dresden realized we were onto her and the two of them scarpered before you even arrived?”
Nolan voiced the fear that had been haunting Cole. To have come so close to an arrest and have her slip through his fingers like water draining down a sink was beyond frustrating.
“I get that everyone’s depending on me at this end. I’m working on it,” he snapped.
After that conversation, Cole’s good humor ran out so when he contacted Tomei’s office his voice was curt. He was forced to leave three messages before Tomei returned his call to vouchsafe that they hadn’t made any progress with the requested patient identification.
After fielding Bex’s call asking him to check on QBE personnel, he caught a cab to Federal Plaza. His visit to the FBI office was to check if any other security footage had been located that would confirm the Dresdens’ presence in New York. It was after 6:00 p.m. so he hoped Eisley had left the office.
They had parted on an awkward footing last night when she dropped him off at his hotel, angling for an invitation to his room. Eisley was an attractive, unattached woman and, just a couple of months ago, he wouldn’t have let her invitation go begging. Given their lives were separated by an ocean, this temporary shagging arrangement would have suited him to a T, he mused. There would be no chance of bumping into each other once the affair had run its course.
Bloody hell, he was acting like a prim and proper, newly engaged fiancé! What was wrong with him? But the questions running like rats in his head were rhetorical. He knew what was wrong with him. He wanted whatever had started between him and Bex to continue. He, at least, had stepped over a personal line he had drawn in the sand long ago. It scared the crap out of him and exhilarated him at the same time to know that his emotions were out of his control. Hell, he hadn’t gone to bed with Eisley Gillespie because he didn’t want to betray Bex!
A knock at his door roused him from his thoughts. He opened the door to face Eisley. Apart from a slight flush, she greeted him with the same friendly professionalism as yesterday. Leaving the small talk behind, she got straight to the point.
“Bruce said you were asking about camera footage for the QBE. We have located a camera but I can’t get the download till tomorrow. If I’d had it sooner I would’ve already forwarded it to you.” Her tone held a rebuke that he took on the chin.
“Great news. That’s something I can tell my boss to get him off my back.”
She nodded. “Is there anything else you need? I’m about to leave the office.”
“We seem to have come to a stalemate until we can pinpoint the Dresdens so I’ve decided to head down to QBE tonight to eyeball the building myself.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea to go there on your own? Especially since you’re not carrying. This is America not England and the bad guys tend to be armed. Just my two cents, but I wouldn’t be going on a stakeout without my weapon. Do you want me to expedite a special firearms license for you?”
Cole wrinkled his forehead.
“My specialty is talking the bad guys out of their criminal tendencies not shooting my foot off with a gun. Since I’m not firearms-trained there’s no point putting a gun in my hand tonight. No doubt you’re right that I should leave the situation alone, but I just can’t get rid of this feeling that Bluebird has flown the nest. Tomei and Mathers are stalling about providing their security footage and it wouldn’t surprise me if they’d smuggled one of their biggest donors out of the building under our noses.”
“There’s no way you could cover the entire building on your own. QBE is attached to Columbus General so it’s a pretty busy place.”
Eisley’s thumbs moved deftly on her phone as she searched the web for a floor plan of the hospital.
“The main entrance services both the hospital and QBE. From a vantage point across the street you would be able to get a good view of that plus the emergency entrance at the front. The hospital also has a service entrance here.” Her finger pointed to a spot at the back of the building. “You’re going to need more eyeballs.”
“Are you volunteering for a long night out in the open?” He let a smile seep into his tone, so she knew it wasn’t an official request.
She sent him a baffled look, as though she couldn’t decide whether he was flirting or not. Then, with one fluid motion, Eisley checked the gun in her belt holster. She caught his look.
“Glock 17M duty pistol. It’s a big improvement on the old versions, especially for a woman. Those finger grooves might fit a standard-sized man but they were always awkward for me,” she informed him.
As she unclipped and checked the magazine he caught sight of the orange polymer follower at the end. He’d never seen one before. She held the gun out, pointed away from him, and sighted down the barrel before slotting the pistol back in her holster under her untucked shirt.
“Better grab your coat. It’ll get cold fast now the sun’s set. And I’m warning you I won’t stay past midnight because I need my beauty sleep,” she said.
Chapter 26
Lower East Side, Manhattan
Thursday, 26 April
Dresden had waited until the sun set, believing it was easier to pass undetected through the relative darkness of the city. Relative was the operative word, since neon lights dressed most of the main streets, bathing them in a colorful glow through which she passed. She had dressed in black slacks and selected a windcheater in a solid dark color with a hood to cut the cold of the evening. She drew the nylon material over her hair and close around her face.
The items she needed for the night had been packed with care in a dark backpack that pulled against her shoulders. The weight couldn’t be helped, even though she had pared it down as much as she could.
She walked south from Canal Street, heading in the general direction of Ruby Street where Columbus General Hospital encompassed Quest. In this city of fast walkers, she hid her lack of purpose by loitering near Columbus Park. She stuck to Mulberry Street where fewer homeless people lingered. She had picked her location with care, close enough to Columbus General so that it would be the hospital of choice, yet far enough to escape any eyes on the building.
As she strolled along Mulberry she tuned the scanner app she had downloaded onto her phone into the Emergency Medical Services radio channel. The easiest way to get into the facility undetected was to ride in on an ambulance. She just had to listen out for the right one.
* * *
Kristian sank back on his heels, watching the two emergency technicians crouched beside his mother. Her body looked flaccid, her breathing so shallow it barely moved her chest. Under the bright lights set up by one of the paramedics, her skin had a gray, clammy pallor.
Kristian bit down hard on a white knuckle stuffed into his mouth.
Suddenly Karen convulsed, her arms and legs flung outwards. She shuddered, her eyes rolling back in her head.
“Cardiac arrest! CPR in progress,” the male emergency medical technician shouted into his radio.
Kristian watched the man slip a mask over Karen’s face. His female companion placed her clasped hands together over Karen’s chest, elbows straight and began the repetitive task of pushing down and releasing to start her heart pumping again.
Feeling useless, he folded
his arms, trapping his hands under his armpits. He had remained on Bowery to flag down the ambulance when it arrived and lead it to the narrow sidewalk buried along a deserted side street. He listened to the rhythmic pummeling, the murmured counting from the technicians.
“Her time’s up. I need you now.”
Kristian’s head snapped to the side as the words lashed over their heads. The tone was impossible to argue with, the words’ meaning so harsh he could hardly comprehend them. He stared through the darkness, unable to believe the words had come from the woman standing in front of the bulky body of the ambulance. Her dark clothing, with a hood pulled low over her forehead, allowed her to blend into the night. She pointed a gun at the two paramedics.
What the hell was wrong with her? Did she think she could mug them while they were saving his mother? Anger boiled upwards. Shoving his hands against the sidewalk, Kristian sprang to his feet. The gun veered towards him.
“Stop right there. I don’t need you, so be very careful what you do next,” she told Kristian.
He noticed the woman’s eyes were two cold glints in the street light. He had no doubt she would shoot him if he moved.
“You other two, I need you to stop what you’re doing and come with me. Your work here is done. This woman’s beyond saving. I heard the dispatch. Drug overdose. She’s a goner and there’s no reason to waste good medical facilities on her.”
“We can’t leave her, she needs—”
The man’s voice broke off as the gun fired, nicking him in the arm. A splotch of red blossomed on his hi-vis flack jacket.
“Shit!”
“That’s to let you know I’m serious. But if you want to stay with this loser be my guest. I only need one of you to drive the ambulance. Tell dispatch you’re on your way in. Do it now!”
The woman grabbed the radio from her partner and spoke into it. There was a crackle as the dispatcher responded.
Bex Wynter Box Set 2 Page 54