Nightmare in New York

by Anthony Masters

  ‘Since some time ago.’

  ‘What use is he?’ asked Tim.

  ‘A hell of a lot. Your brother doesn’t know he’s working for me. Deliso’ll take you to Coney Island and make a pretence of exchanging the three of you – and this information – for your wife.’ He turned to Deliso. ‘Will he walk into it?’

  Joe nodded.

  ‘How the hell can we trust a bastard like this?’ snarled Kelly.

  ‘You don’t have any choice,’ said Marques blandly.

  The atmosphere was electric. Kelly sat hunched at the table. I could see that she was trying to control herself but finding it almost impossible. Then Marques began to speak slowly and quietly.

  ‘Joe will make out he’s contacted you.’ He took out the envelope again, removed Tim’s typed letter, put it back in his pocket and handed him the empty envelope. ‘By the time Alex opens this, he’ll be the other end of a gun – your gun, Joe. Then you’ll bring in my security people. It’ll be over in a few minutes.’

  Deliso nodded. ‘No problem.’

  ‘Who else is out there holding her?’ Marques asked.

  ‘Sawyer and three others,’ Deliso turned towards me. ‘Sawyer is the guy you thought was Laurence Bradley’s father; the priest you met in Harlem when Margot gave you the tour.’

  ‘Is Alex going to try and kill me?’ I asked slowly.

  Deliso shook his head. ‘We had instructions to keep you out of the way – that’s all.’

  ‘And the money Kelly – Margot – got out of this man Sawyer?’

  ‘That was the Sandman fund. Wallace owed me.’

  ‘But did he want me dead?’ I repeated.

  ‘I had no instructions,’ said Deliso. ‘But maybe the crazy woman who attacked you had. You owe Margot your life, kid.’

  But I still didn’t know for certain. And I needed to know. Had Alex wanted me dead?

  ‘You’d better get going,’ said Marques. He took Tim’s hand. ‘I know the risk I’m putting you under. But if we catch him negotiating, we’re made.’

  ‘Can I trust him?’ asked Tim, looking at Deliso. ‘Jennifer’s life means everything to me.’

  ‘You have my word,’ said Marques. ‘And Joe’s going to be a very rich man – which is safer than my word.’

  I didn’t feel convinced but I condemned myself for my own selfishness. Why hadn’t I been worrying more about Jennifer – instead of thinking about myself so much.

  ‘You’re doing this country a great service,’ pressed Marques. ‘All of you,’ he added. ‘The presence of Alexander Wallace in our Congress is like terminal cancer.’

  But all I could see was my uncle making a beach barbecue. Despite everything, the villain still seemed another man. I thought of Norman. Poor old Norman.

  Joe took us to a beaten-up old van he had parked down a side street. On the dashboard was a telephone and before we started Joe dialled and said softly, ‘It’s harvest time at Sion House. If you come, you can count the sheaves.’

  The vehicle shook and rattled us towards the coast, and we sat in its greasy interior, largely silent, thinking of the ordeal to come. I didn’t underestimate the danger we were in but all I could see, once again, was the Alex I knew, this time in the bar of the hotel the previous night, his face tired and drawn, asking me to come and live with him.

  Then his familiar features were replaced by Margot’s, grey and helpless on her hospital pillow. Suddenly I wanted to talk to her, to be with her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Tim. He was sitting between us in the back while Joe Deliso drove at considerable speed down the freeway.

  ‘What about?’

  ‘I should have kept you all out of this.’

  ‘I’d rather be here,’ I said. ‘At least we’re together for a change.’

  Chapter Eleven

  I could smell the sea. It was just after one and the day was warm and mellow. The landscape was littered with old, rotting amusement arcades and there was an air of seedy decay combined with the briny, relentless dance of the waves as they pounded the beachhead. We turned into a track and my stomach tightened into knots as we drove up to a white clapboard house that was freshly painted and had a pristine chain-link fence set around a pebble garden. There were a couple of fishing boats drawn up nearby and a sign read: Sion House.

  I saw Tim and Kelly looking around, searching for the reassuring police presence and finding only fishermen and some men repairing a telegraph post. A large van, drawn up some fifty metres away, carried the sign RELIANT CANNERIES.

  ‘They’re here,’ said Joe Deliso reassuringly. ‘All staked out.’

  Parked ahead of us in the drive of Sion House was an old pick-up truck and a Dodge automatic. Both had seen better days.

  ‘What do we do?’ asked Tim. I suddenly realised that he must have used up all his strength. Kelly looked glazed, and I simply felt completely unreal.

  ‘We’re going in’ said Deliso. ‘Just leave all the action to me.’ But for the first time I thought I detected a hesitancy in his voice.

  We clambered out of the van and cautiously approached the back door of Sion House. Deliso followed, his hand in his pocket. I hoped he had a gun there.

  The door slowly opened and I saw the dignified, memorable figure of the Reverend Bradley. Except, like so many other people in this nightmare, he was not what he seemed.

  ‘Welcome to Sion House,’ said the Sandman.

  He showed us into a small, square dining room that overlooked the sea. Light streamed in from the big bay window, picking out ceramics on a huge dresser that ran the length of one wall. Then my stomach churned and I broke out into a heavy sweat. Alex was here, sitting calmly at one end of the table. He was smoking one of his black cheroots and he was his old familiar self, relaxed with a wry smile. Our eyes met at once. I didn’t know what to say to him. There was nothing to say.

  Jennifer was sitting at the other end of the table. She looked desolate and withdrawn. She showed no emotion – no reaction of any kind – to our appearance.

  Another three men were standing by the window. Outside I could hear the soft murmur of waves curling up the beach and the distant cry of gulls. I looked round me. Tim and Kelly betrayed no emotion either, and oddly it was only Deliso who seemed to share my incredulity. Alex was unbelievably calm; I suddenly sensed that a decision had already been taken and that he was reconciled to it.

  ‘Thank you for bringing them, Joe.’ Alex’s voice was gentle.

  Deliso stared back at him. He looked puzzled, as if he couldn’t work something out.

  Alex turned to Tim for the first time. ‘I knew what I was walking into before I came, so I decided to walk straight ahead.’ His expression softened; he suddenly looked drained, defenceless. Then, very quickly, I saw his resolution return, but it was artificial somehow, as if he was wearily acting out some final part. ‘I should have known what you were up to far quicker than I did, Tim. I underestimated you. I can guess who will testify against me. Some of it will stick; some of it won’t – but it’ll be enough to get me out of office.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We don’t have too much time. I have a deadline to keep. I just wanted to say I still love you, Tim.’ He looked back at me and smiled in a ghostly shadow of his old relaxed confident way. ‘And you, Colin.’ He paused, then continued: ‘These associates of mine are leaving. I’ve arranged for transport.’ He looked steadily at Joe. ‘I imagine that will be in order. If not – things could get out of hand.’

  For the first time since I had met him Joe Deliso looked taken aback. Outside the sound of surf was replaced by the roaring of the helicopter that we could see through the window slowly settling on the beach.

  ‘OK,’ said Joe. He turned to the three men by the window. ‘Get out.’ He drew out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it urgently.

  ‘Coming, Joe?’ asked one of the men mockingly. Deliso shook his head as they opened the patio doors and without a backward glance clambered on board the helicopter. We watched it take off, soaring o
ut of our sight-lines. It was over so quickly and efficiently – an operation typical of Alexander Wallace.

  Jennifer began to speak. I had almost forgotten she was there. Her voice was a monotone and I suddenly realised how much she had suffered. ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Let this all stop.’

  ‘I’m going out there,’ said Alex quietly. ‘I’m unarmed and Mr Deliso has me covered. The only thing they don’t know is that Mr Deliso is going to give me some assistance.’

  ‘You’re finished, Alex,’ said Tim as if he was expecting him to spring some kind of surprise. But somehow I didn’t think he was going to. Underneath the calm, I knew he was finished.

  Alex’s eyes closed for a moment. ‘Yes,’ he replied simply. He turned to Deliso. ‘So you deceived me, Joe?’

  ‘Deceived?’ Deliso laughed. ‘I went to the highest bidder. That’s what it’s all about.’

  ‘I want you to do me a favour. I take it they’re going to let you walk away?’

  ‘I’m not doing you any favours, Wallace.’

  ‘Will you speak to them? Say I’ll be out there in a minute.’

  Joe pulled the walkie-talkie out again. But he still covered Alex as my uncle looked across at me.

  ‘I have to ask you a favour too.’

  ‘What is it?’ I was still numb.

  ‘It’s going to be a burden to you.’

  ‘Norman?’

  ‘I want him taken care of.’

  ‘You should ask Tim.’

  ‘We’ll take care of him,’ said Tim quickly. ‘You should know that.’

  ‘You may have to lick him into shape a bit.’ He tried to laugh but it didn’t work and came out as a kind of sob.

  ‘We’ll try.’

  ‘Alex – ’ I stepped nearer to him. ‘I must know. Did you want to kill me?’

  ‘No. I wanted you out of the way while they took Jennifer.’ I looked away. ‘I concocted the whole damn charade in the hope that you could be kept right out of the way.’ He broke off and then hurriedly continued, his words falling over each other. ‘Maybe I hoped that somehow when it was all over I could convince you I had nothing to do with anything – that it was all lies against me. Now I can see how crazy all that was. But I loved you so much, Colin.’ He broke off again and then turned back to Joe. ‘At the beginning when I only drew Sandmen from the vagrants in this house, I had things under control. But once I started to cast the net wider – once I had to hire on the streets – I found they all had insane minds of their own.’ He paused. ‘Margot really did save your life, Colin, but I didn’t mean to take it. Do you believe me?’

  ‘Yes,’ I replied. I felt very sure that he was telling me the truth. ‘What are you going to do now?’

  ‘I’m not giving myself up. I’m not putting Norman through – what would have to happen.’

  ‘Please – ’ Jennifer’s monotone rose a fraction. ‘Please stop all this.’

  ‘I’m going into the next room with Joe,’ said Alex. ‘He’ll know what to do.’

  Tim seemed to realise what Alex meant a long time before I did. ‘You don’t have to do this, Alex,’ he said urgently. ‘The courts – ’

  ‘Do you think I’d really go through the courts?’ Alex’s voice was contemptuous. He moved towards the interconnecting door, and then looked back at Tim. ‘You had me fooled for a long time. I was sure that body was yours – and I grieved for you, Tim. God knows I really grieved for you. But when I found out you were alive and running against me, I wished you dead again.’

  ‘You would have made me dead again.’

  Alex turned away. ‘Come on, Joe – ’ All his former confidence seemed to have returned and he was the old easy Alex I had known on Formentera.

  ‘I’m not doing this, Mr Wallace.’

  ‘You’re going to be careless for once, that’s all. Aren’t you, Joe? You’re going to keep me covered with that gun of yours, Joe – and I’m going to try and jump you and you’re going to shoot me in self-defence. Got it?’ He sounded as if he was briefing his staff.

  ‘I’m not leaving this room. I want witnesses.’ Deliso was far from cool.

  ‘Will you go in there if I come with you?’ asked Tim suddenly.

  Deliso nodded reluctantly.

  Alex looked at Tim with sudden love and affection and I felt deeply moved. Tears poured down my cheeks and I turned away, trying to control myself. Jennifer got up slowly but Kelly was there first, holding me in her arms.

  ‘No, Alex. Please no, Alex. Please don’t do it,’ I blurted out, my words tumbling over each other.

  He shook his head. ‘It’s over, Colin.’

  There was a knock at the door and we all stood there, characters in a carefully plotted play that had suddenly gone wrong. Then, the door was thrust open and the fat woman with the chocolate breath stood on the threshold grinning.

  She looked madder than ever, wound around with scarves and a filthy mackintosh. In her hand she held a small revolver. It was pointing directly at me and Kelly.

  ‘Sandman’s here,’ she said and gave the same wheezy laugh that I had heard in the cinema.

  Alex stepped quietly into the line of fire. ‘Maggie – ’

  ‘Get out of my way, Congressman,’ she said. ‘I have work to do for you.’

  ‘The job’s over, Maggie.’

  ‘No – ’ She raised the gun, trying to train it over his shoulder. Her hand was shaking. ‘You don’t always call the tune, Congressman. I want folks to know I’m around.’

  ‘I want these guys out of here.’

  ‘Who?’ She stared at him muzzily while Alex indicated Jennifer, Kelly and myself.

  ‘I want them out now.’

  She shrugged. ‘Let them go.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere – ’ I began but Alex appealed to Jennifer.

  ‘Do it for me,’ he said. ‘Get rid of them.’

  Jennifer grabbed my arm. At first I resisted and then I felt the pressure of Kelly’s hand on the other.

  The shots came just as we crossed the wooden veranda. One followed quickly by another. As we turned round Joe Deliso opened the door and walked slowly out.

  ‘They’re dead,’ he said quietly. ‘Alex and his Sandman. She shot him – and I shot her. I tried to save him.’

  ‘Did you really try?’ asked Kelly.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I tried.’

  But I didn’t think he had.

  Afterwards, while Tim was talking to the security men and a doctor was talking quietly to Jennifer, Kelly and I walked up the beach together. I knew we both felt the same: light-headed and unreal, and completely stunned by the deadly speed of what had happened. As we trod the fine sand we saw Joe Deliso leave Sion House.

  ‘That bastard’s got away with it,’ she swore.

  ‘Part of the arrangement,’ I said.

  ‘There shouldn’t be arrangements like that. That’s Alex’s territory.’

  ‘It’s no-man’s-land,’ I replied. ‘Marques isn’t exactly a saint. I reckon he could grow to be like Alex one day.’

  We walked on in silence.

  ‘Will you come to England?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I think you should.’

  ‘I might try it.’

  ‘We could get to know each other. We need to do that.’

  ‘Sure.’

  But I knew her thoughts were with Laurence Bradley.

  After a while we turned back. Sion House was surrounded by police cars and I saw something being loaded into an ambulance.

  ‘What about Margot?’ I asked.

  ‘She’ll go back on the streets.’

  ‘I’d like to see her before she does,’ I said.

  Chapter Twelve

  I had phoned Kate from the hotel directly I got back from Coney Island. To hear her joy on the other end of the phone was the greatest pleasure I think I have ever had in my life. But for some weeks after Tim and I returned from the States with Kelly she wouldn’t speak to him and still clung
to Jennifer. It was gradual. But now they seem to be as close as ever again and I think she has forgiven him. Almost.

  Now we were back in Formentera for the summer. I looked up from turning Tim’s steak and stared at the sea. With a sudden stab of fear I saw his shorts and T-shirt down by the water’s edge. Then I saw his head, dark and glistening in the silver water.

  ‘You OK, Colin?’ she asked and I grinned up at Kelly. She had grown very close to us all and decided to stay in England and go to college. She was going to train as a social worker.

  ‘I’m OK.’

  ‘Will you ever forget it all?’

  ‘Never. But it’s like a dream – a nightmare, I mean. I can see him jogging up and down the beach, working off all that surplus energy.’

  ‘Alex?’

  ‘Who else?’

  ‘I wonder why he became the Reaper?’

  ‘Flipped. Got out of control.’

  ‘Maybe it’s not that difficult if you’re a politician.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  I looked up and saw Tim walking up the beach towards us in his bathing trunks. He held up his shorts and T-shirt. Grinning, he said, ‘Thought I’d bring them back this time.’

  We walked up to the tiny church in the square of the sun-baked, stone-walled dusty village, with its white heat and roving chickens and smell of dried herbs. I had put the tiny black crucifix in my pocket, hoping to see the dried-up little old lady with the dark nugget eyes who had given it to me last summer. It seemed a lifetime ago now.

  Scattering poultry, Kelly and I walked into the rugged little church and knelt in front of the brightly painted statue of Our Lady. As before, the air in the church hung heavy with incense.

  ‘I’ve got to give something back,’ I told her as we wandered out into the now dazzling sunlight. Sure enough, she was there; the old black crow of a woman sitting unblinking on a stone seat in the shimmering heat, staring ahead without acknowledging me at all. I went up to her and pressed the crucifix back into her leathery palm. Her gnarled fingers closed over it, and for an instant her gaze fell on me. She crossed herself rapidly then looked away again.