I moved the view provided by the gizmo to outside the building so I would know when the police arrived. I estimated it would take several hours before there was any noticeable activity. First, Saul's people would have to communicate the information and convince the Oakland police that it was accurate. Then the police would check the ownership of the building to see if the individual or company had any history of crime involvement. Then the police would have to approach a judge and present their evidence to him or her to convince the judge to sign the search warrant.
During the past couple of years my name has been increasingly linked to high-profile theft cases with successful conclusions, including the very recent recovery of the first eleven paintings and the attempted assassination attempt by a known underworld thug, so I knew it would be used repeatedly at each step of the process. That was fine with me if it helped grease the wheels of justice.
~
It was almost one p.m. before the first police car showed up outside the building where the painting was hidden. In seconds, additional marked and unmarked cars arrived, and officers spread out to cover all the exits. A half-hour later an unmarked car arrived and the small group that emerged from the vehicle walked to the main entrance and pounded on it. When no one responded, they used a ram to break it open, then entered the building with guns drawn.
I imagine they first searched to make sure no one was hiding inside before looking for the case holding the painting. About fifteen minutes after arriving, one of the plain-clothes officers emerged with the case. I thought I could hear the sounds of Greek music playing in my head. I hoped the police had had the good sense not to open the case.
I lost interest in watching after that. The gizmo told me the painting was inside the case, so it was just a matter of time until it was authenticated by the museum experts. I didn't really care if the congressman was ever connected to the robbery or not now that we had the painting back. But I had to admit to being delighted that I was responsible for destroying his dream of acquiring the real painting. He would just have to settle for staring at his very high-quality forgery.
Perhaps one of these days I would feel like continuing my investigation into who had sent the leg-breaker to kill me, but at the moment all I wanted to do was get on a plane headed east.
Since I knew the painting had been recovered, there was little sense staying overnight in San Francisco to get the official word from the museum, so I called and made reservations on a red-eye flight out of San Francisco that would get me into New York City around eight a.m., then sat back to relax. I would have called Mia to give her the wonderful news that I had completed my work here and was leaving tonight, but the ten-hour time difference meant it was almost midnight on Thasos. I would call her when I reached New York in the morning.
I might have gone sightseeing to kill the rest of the day, but the prospect of facing the media people everywhere I went squashed that idea. So I turned on the cable news to see what drivel they had chosen to deliver this day while ignoring most of what I believed were the really important news stories happening around the world. I was soon bored but hung in there until the replays began an hour later.
Since I didn't know how much sleep I could count on during the overnight flight to New York, I decided to get some before I left.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Four
The flight to Kennedy Airport in New York was one of those fortunately infrequent turbulence-filled trips that felt like driving on a wilderness road in an off-road vehicle without springs or shock-absorbers, and where it was impossible to miss rolling over a boulder every few seconds. As a result, I didn't get any sleep on the plane. I was glad I had grabbed a long nap in the afternoon.
As I stepped out of the cab in front on my co-op building, I thought how great it was to be home. I intended to stay here overnight and then head to Europe tomorrow afternoon.
Upon entering the lobby with my suitcase in tow, I smiled slightly as I nodded at the security guard. They all knew me by now, and while I didn't know all of their full names, I at least knew their given names. The first name of the man on desk was Pete, but I didn't know his last name.
As I started to pass the security counter, he said, "Special Agent James, there's a note here for you. It's from your car dealership. They've called several times looking for you."
I took the note Pete was holding out and looked at it. There were three different dates on the paper representing three different phone calls.
"Thanks, Pete," I said as I stuffed the note in my pocket. "I'll give them a call when I get upstairs."
"We heard about the shooting in San Francisco. It sounded like a close one. We're glad you're okay."
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
Like Dorothy said in the Wizard of Oz, 'there's no place like home.' As much as I was looking forward to returning to Thasos, a small part of me longed to stay home, at least for a short time. That was probably why I'd chosen to come here rather than immediately continuing on to Europe. I felt I needed a day to rest up after the frustration I'd experienced in San Francisco. The friendship— or perhaps I should call it an acquaintanceship— I'd formed with Ron Hooper had helped offset the negative feelings about the SFPD that I'd begun to develop after meeting Fasko.
I unpacked my suitcase and put the soiled clothes in the appropriate hamper. I'd repack tomorrow with all clean clothes before I left again.
As I emptied my pockets, I pulled out the note from the car dealership. I intended to grab a few winks, but I called the dealership before getting into bed.
The call was answered by a man who identified himself as William after naming the dealership.
"Good morning, William. This is Colton James. I just arrived back in town, and I understand you've been trying to reach me."
"Yes, sir, Mr. James. You haven't had your car serviced since it was new, and the warranty requires that it be checked over in order to keep the warranty in effect."
"I haven't actually driven it much. I've only put a couple of thousand miles on it."
"Yes, sir. I understand. That's common with car owners living in Manhattan. But the warranty is both for mileage and time of ownership. Even though a car is not being driven very much, it's still important to change the oil and check the fluids. Our inspection team also runs a complete engine diagnostic to help spot any potential problems before they become serious. The manufacturer requires the checkup, and I'm afraid your warranty will be voided if you don't have it done by us or another dealership within a month's time."
"I'm going out of town again tomorrow afternoon and I won't be back for a couple of months, so I don't have time to make an appointment."
"We can squeeze you in tomorrow morning, if you wish. We can pick up the car at your building at nine and have it back to you by noon."
"You're sure you can do it in that time window? Because if you can't get it done, you'll have to hang onto it for a couple of months until I get back."
"Have you been experiencing any problems with it?"
"None at all."
"Then I'm sure we can have it done in that time. It's highly unlikely that there's anything wrong with it. We'll change the oil and the filters, check the other fluids, tires, and tire pressures, and have it back by noon. If they find anything unusual, you can have us pick it up for service when you return. At least this way the warranty remains in effect."
"Okay. What time will your man be here?"
"He'll be waiting at your front door at nine a.m. He'll have a dealership jacket on to identify him."
"Okay. The car is in my underground parking garage. I'll drive it out and turn it over to him. You'll call before he drives it back?"
"Of course, sir."
"Let me give you my cell number."
After giving him the number, I ended the conversation. And as the coffee maker began to gurgle and pop while steaming coffee dripped into the glass decanter, I headed for the shower. The coffee might invigorate me a bit, but t
he shower would drain away all the tenseness in my muscles. I figured I'd still be alert afterwards, but it would be a more relaxed alert.
~
"Hi, baby," I said, when Mia came to the phone.
"Darling, where are you?"
"I'm at home. I just got in this morning."
"Aren't you coming here?"
"Of course. I'll be on a flight out of New York tomorrow afternoon. I need a day to rest up and unwind before I continue on. It was an exasperating time in San Francisco."
"I'm so glad you got out of there before anyone else decided to shoot at you."
"Hopefully it'll be a long time before that happens again. How are things over there?"
"Not too good. As you probably know, the government agreed to make a number of austerity concessions and was able to get the bailout loans needed to reopen the banks, but the people are still angry because pensions have been cut a little and the social programs are being cut back. I hope everything will work out. Although they don't like it, most people understand you can't keep giving away money you don't have and that it's important that the country get a tighter rein on fiscal matters. The money the government will have to pay in additional interest payments could be better used to help our people."
"I just hope our politicians here learn that before it's too late. They just keep upping their credit line by raising the national debt limit so they can keep writing checks for money the country doesn't have and will never have while the current giveaway programs continue unabated and new ones are created. The half-trillion dollars the U.S. is presently paying annually in interest expense on the over eighteen trillion dollars of debt they've racked up, could be much better spent on social programs if the politicians would stop their foolish games and put some stability back into the economy. Sooner or later the chickens are going to come home to roost here, and, like Greece, we'll be in a whole lot of trouble. But I meant, how's the family? Everybody healthy?"
"Yes, just as healthy as when you left. Uncle was able to get the divorce decree set aside. It won't become official, so I don't have to worry about being excommunicated from the church."
"That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you."
"I keep thinking about poor Marcus. After we were married, I learned that he was such a spoiled little boy in so many ways, but he always thought he was so grown up."
"Don't grieve for him. There was nothing anyone could do. He was responsible for his own life and ultimately for his death."
Mia and I spoke for another twenty minutes, but I managed to shift the conversation away from Marcus. She seemed to be happy on Thasos, and I wondered how that would affect us in New York. When we returned from vacation, she might not want to come here. She had been a prominent member of the jet set, but I think that was mostly because of her strained relationship with her family. Now that she was back with them and all past differences had been forgiven and forgotten, would she want to stay with them most of the year?
I couldn't fall asleep, so I was watching an old movie I had on DVD in the hope that it would make me sleepy. My phone rang and announced it was Saul calling.
"Hi, Saul."
"Colt, I'm delighted to say that the twelfth painting has been evaluated and authenticated. The San Francisco museum is delighted because their exhibit can proceed as planned. The museum in Milan is delighted that you were able to recover their priceless artwork, and the Board is delighted that we won't have to pay out three hundred million."
"But there's still the thirty million."
"I neglected to remind them of that during the meeting— intentionally. I prefer they bask in the good news."
"So everyone is happy except Fasko."
"I told the mayor out there that if he was smart, he'd replace that idiot."
I chuckled. "I bet that went over big."
"Yeah, I've learned since then that Fasko is his cousin."
"You can't pick your relatives, but you don't have to put them in responsible positions. Okay, Saul, down to business. I owe about thirteen million on the mortgage so I'd like you to apply whatever it takes to pay that down all the way, and then put the rest in my bank account so I can send it to the government."
"Does this mean you'll be ending our retainer arrangement?"
"Not necessarily, but we may have to rewrite it to exempt me from being required to jump when you call if I'm out of the country on vacation. I'm just glad the trip to Fiji had been postponed because of Mia's divorce efforts. Otherwise I would have had to leave her on the beach while I went to San Francisco. That would not have pleased her at all. You'll still get first access to my services otherwise."
"Did she get her divorce?"
"Yes, but she didn't need it. Her ex was killed in the Bronx while I was down in Memphis."
"He was the white guy that had his head caved in and was then run over?"
"Yeah, and I'm sure glad I had an airtight alibi."
"It could have been difficult if you hadn't been in Tennessee. So when's the wedding?"
"We're still talking about that. No decisions yet."
"Okay, Colt. Have a nice vacation. Are you coming back to New York first?"
"I'm already here. I came back on a late night flight and arrived this morning."
"Before you even knew if the painting would be authenticated?"
"I knew it would be. Too bad they couldn't get it while it was still hanging in the congressman's basement."
"The investigation isn't over yet. They found a number of fingerprints on the painting and frame. The museum folks never touch it unless they're wearing cotton gloves, so the prints had to come from someone in San Francisco or Oakland. Apparently they were in such a hurry that they got careless and didn't wipe it down very well."
"That's the best news I've had since I learned they had recovered it. Maybe the prints belong to the 'congressman's armed bodyguards. I'm sure their prints will be on file from when they got their firearms permits. It would be better yet if they belonged to the congressman."
~ ~
I was dressed and ready to leave the apartment before nine the next morning. I had been sitting around too much lately, and I planned to walk around in the park and get a little exercise until my car was due back. But first I had to turn it over to the guy from the dealership, so I rode the elevator to the basement garage.
After exiting the elevator, I turned to the right to where my two parking spots were located. I was thinking about Mia, and wasn't as alert to danger as I should have been because I hadn't walked more than a few feet when a man stepped out from behind one of those enormous concrete supports used to hold buildings up. He didn't say anything at first, but I stopped walking because he was holding a handgun. And it was aimed at me. He looked familiar, but I couldn't place him.
Then a second man stepped out from behind a pillar on the other side of the drive-through aisle, and I immediately realized why the first man had looked so familiar. He was Weasel and this was Ox, the pair I had first seen at Billy's funeral and who I had assumed were part of Delcona's mob. Ox also had a gun aimed at me, and like Weasel, he was only about forty feet away.
"Take your gun out real slow, James," Weasel said. "Use just two fingers and place it on the ground in front of you. One false move and we shoot."
"Who are you?"
"You don't hear so good, do you? That wasn't a request. I gave you an order."
Since they hadn't already started shooting, I figured Delcona must have given them orders not to shoot me unless they had to. That gave me a slight edge, at least early on.
"I'm an FBI Special Agent," I said. "I order you to put down your weapons and put your hands up."
That struck them as being extremely funny— just as I'd hoped. When Ox laughed, it was my cue to make my move. I flung myself to the left, aiming to land behind the large building support closest to me, but I didn't quite make it. I heard two shots ring out as I hit the ground, but I kept on rolling because I wasn't all the way behind the suppor
t. Two more shots rang out, but I was behind cover by then. One ricocheted off the concrete support, sending a bit of cement flying in a puff of powder. I thought I heard a window shatter behind me, so I figured at least one of the slugs had hit somebody's car.
"Give it up, James," Weasel yelled. "You can't win this one. It's two to one. One of us is going to get you."
"All I have to do is stay low," I yelled back. "This garage is monitored by the security guard at the lobby desk. By now he's probably already called the NYPD."
"I guess you didn't stop at the lobby on your way down."
"Why should I have done that?"
"No reason, except that if you had you'd know your rent-a-cop isn't at the desk watching the monitors."
"No? Where is he?"
"He's out in front of the building. You see, at about the same time you were coming down to get your car, he was trying to roust a dozen homeless guys who set themselves up to beg for money from the building's residents as they came and went. Your rent-a-cop is probably still trying to get rid of them politely, but it's not going to happen. We're paying them fifty bucks each if they don't move for an hour. And if the cops do come and arrest them, we've promised to bail them out and still give them the fifty bucks each. So you see, you're on your own."
"Then we'll just wait for that hour to be up."
"That won't help you. Our orders are to bring you in alive, if we can. But if we can't do it in half an hour, our orders are to kill you. So at most you've got thirty minutes one way or the other."
From the sound of his voice I knew he was getting more anxious by the second. Time was not his friend.
"I'll just wait for the cops. If you want me, come and get me."
"Make it easy on yourself. The boss just wants to talk with you. You won't be harmed if you come peacefully."
"Sure, I come peacefully and wind up tied to a chair while some goon like your pal there beats my face to a bloody pulp. Tell me, were you there when Morris Calloway was beaten senseless and then strangled?" I knew they weren't, but I was sure they knew of it.
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