The cop opened the door and Shemp started to walk through, then stopped as McNamara placed his hand on the lawyer’s shoulder. They both turned to the police officer and Mac said, “It goes without saying that this interview falls under the purview of attorney client privilege and is confidential, right?”
“Of course,” the cop said. “I won’t be listening. Call me if you need me.”
Shemp nodded and from the expression on his face, Wolf sensed that the lawyer was having serious misgivings.
We’ll have to make this short and sweet, Wolf thought.
But if they could get just one clue and who this guy was working for and why he was after the bandito, it would be worth it.
It was a single occupant room and the burglar lay on his back, tubes and IV lines connected to various parts of his body. There was a bag of clear liquid suspended on a metal hook on the left side of the bed, the line extending from it went to the inner aspect of the supine man’s elbow where an IV was connected. A set of overhead telemetry machines flashed numbers and one showed a static line of heartbeats. His right arm was handcuffed to the metal handle of the portable gurney. His eyes were closed and he had an oxygen tube under his nose.
Wolf assessed the man. He was very dark complected and his hair was cut military short. He looked to be fairly young, perhaps late twenties or not very much beyond that. It was hard to tell much else due to the medical equipment and attachments.
McNamara strode over to the bed and smiled.
“Don’t he look peaceful,” he said.
With that, the man’s eyes fluttered open and McNamara stepped over to the side of the bed.
“How you doing?” he asked.
The man’s head turned slightly. “I’m—Who the hell are you?”
His words had a foreign sound to them.
“Well,” McNamara said. “That depends. I could be your savior, or I could be your worst nightmare.” He placed his hand on top of the man’s chest and pressed down slightly.
The man grunted.
“I’m surprised you don’t remember me,” McNamara said.
He exerted some more pressure and elicited another grunt.
“I already told you,” the man said. “I’ve got nothing to say until I talk to my counsel.”
“We ain’t cops,” McNamara said, leaning close to the man. “And I ain’t above finishing what I started last night.”
The man’s eyes widened. “You … You’re the one who shot me.”
“And you’re the one that was gonna burn my house down, motherfucker.”
Shemp cleared his throat. “Mac, please. I can’t be party to this. I’ll be disbarred.”
“Then go get a drink of water or something,” McNamara said.
“They have my name,” Shemp said.
“Well, we’ll have to keep that in mind. Now take a quick walk and leave us be for a couple. This ain’t gonna take long.”
Shemp’s mouth twitched and then he turned and headed for the door.
Preetorius watched as the lawyer, Shemp, came out of Amiri’s room, walking at a rapid pace toward the elevators. The cop was still out in front, but he was busy chatting with the pretty nurse again. Shemp walked hurriedly toward the elevators and Preetorius followed, moving easily in the comfortable blue scrubs. As he passed the nurse’s station he scooped an empty clipboard off the counter and quickened his pace to catch up to the lawyer who was now standing by the elevators, jamming his finger against the summoning button. He looked to be in a hurry to leave and separate himself from the other two.
“Excuse me,” Preetorius said as he stepping over to the other man. He was fairly tall but soft around the middle and not at all rugged. “Is your name Mr. Shemp?”
The lawyer’s jaw sagged slightly. “Yes.”
“I believe you were in Mr. Doe’s room just now?” Preetorius kept his expression neutral.
Be professional and non-threatening, he thought.
“I was,” the lawyer said.
“Would you step this way, please. Doctor Sterfgeval would like a word with you.”
He couldn’t resist using the Afrikaans word for death.
Shemp’s face twitched. “What’s this concerning?”
“Doctor will explain,” Preetorius said, affecting a benign smile and stepping to the side. “Please.”
Shemp went along, glancing down toward the room as they got into the main hallway. Instead of turning to the left to revisit room 628, Preetorius turned left and walked briskly down the hallway, totally cognizant that Shemp was only a few steps behind him. They got almost to the end of the corridor and Preetorius stopped by the stairwell door and pushed it open. Shemp balked.
“The stairwell?” he asked.
Once again Preetorius flashed the benign smile.
“Oh,” he said, holding the door open and lightly placing the fingertips of his gloved hand on the lawyer’s right shoulder. “His office is only one floor down. I hope you don’t mind.”
Shemp nodded and stepped forward.
Preetorius went in after him and let the door swing closed. Shemp had barely taken two steps toward the stairwell when Preetorius dropped the clipboard onto the floor. The lawyer stopped abruptly and was glancing downward as Preetorius shot forward and delivered a knife-hand chop to the back of the other man’s neck. He collapsed without a sound and Preetorius stooped down and used his beefy forearms to scissor around the lawyer’s rather thin neck. With the deft twist he’d practiced and used so many times, the dull crack told him it was most assuredly over.
Quick and easy, he told himself.
Now it was time to tie up that other matter.
Wolf was feeling increasingly less comfortable the longer this went on. While he knew that Mac’s threats were meant more to intimidate than anything else, the repercussions of what they were doing could work against them.
Maybe it’s time for a little good cop, bad cop, he thought.
“Let me talk to him,” Wolf said, placing his hand on McNamara’s arm and gently steering him away from the bed. “What’s your name, brother?”
The man said nothing, his dark eyes set in defiance now.
“Look, you’re in some real trouble here,” Wolf said. “And all we want to know are a few minor things. Who you working for and why you were after the bandito?”
“The what?” The man’s face reflected confusion.
Wolf and McNamara exchanged glances.
“All right,” Wolf said. “Let’s go back to the original question. We know you weren’t working this thing by yourself, and it’s obvious that you’re just the middleman. Tell us who put you up to it, and we can put in a good word with the D.A. for you.”
The man just kept staring at him.
McNamara lurched forward, his face full of bluster.
“You god damn better talk, buster. And talk now. Otherwise—”
He smacked his right fist into his left palm, making a loud cracking sound.
The man’s eyes widened again. He seemed on the verge of saying something when the door opened and a big guy in hospital scrubs stepped into the room. He had a clipboard and pen and looked at Wolf and then McNamara.
“What is going on here?” he said. His speech had a foreign sound to it as well, but Wolf couldn’t place it.
Neither Wolf nor McNamara spoke.
The man on the bed did, however: “Boss, help me. Please. These men are threatening me.”
The big guy’s eyebrows rose and he studied both of them.
“Is this true?” he asked.
“Nah,” McNamara said. “We were just having a little conversation, that’s all.”
“No, it is not true,” the man said.
The big guy regarded both of them. “Perhaps it is best if you two left. Immediately.”
McNamara started to argue but Wolf grabbed his arm and walked him out of the door. They’d overstayed their welcome. It was time to boogie. As they left the room, Wolf glanced around for Shemp but didn�
��t see him.
“Where’s Rod?” he asked.
“Who gives a shit?” McNamara said. “That little weasel ran out as soon as things started to get hot. If one of my men would’ve done that under my command, I’d have him brought up on charges, after I beat the holy hell out of him. And that’s only if I didn’t shoot him for cowardice first.”
Wolf smirked. “This ain’t the Mekong Delta, and we better beat feet before that cop decides to follow up and get our names.”
McNamara nodded as they turned into the corridor leading to the elevators.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “But that damn Shemp’s gonna be lucky if I don’t put a boot up his ass.”
“I think poor Rod’s probably got other things on his mind,” Wolf said. “But at least you gave him back the ring.
Preetorius walked briskly to the cop and the flirtatious nurse in front of Amiri’s room.
“Officer,” he said. “There seems to be an emergency in the stairwell down the hall. I heard someone say a man fell down the stairs.”
The cop’s head shot up, the smile disappearing from his face. He immediately began a quick jog down the hallway, the nurse on his heels.
Protect and serve, Preetorius thought as he watched them. You do that so well.
He opened the door of room 628 and let it close behind him as he walked over the bed.
“Are you all right?” he asked in Afrikaans.
Amiri opened his eyes. “Yes. I told them nothing. One of them was the old man who shot me last night.”
“I know,” Preetorius said.
“You’ve come to get me out of here?” Amiri asked.
“Yes.” Preetorius studied the equipment and the IV lines, paying particular attention to the morphine drip gauge.
“How are you going to do it?”
“Easily,” Preetorius said adjusting the flow meter on the morphine bag’s line to its fully open position and then picking up the pump. This would be better than inducing air into the flow line. With his other hand he reached up and switched off the telemetry recording Amiri’s heartbeat and vitals. The displays went silent and the images disappeared from the screen. Amiri stiffened slightly and his eyes rolled back into his head.
“And silently,” Preetorius said, as he continued to work the morphine pump.
Chapter Fifteen
Phoenix, Arizona
“That was a damn waste of time,” McNamara said as he steered the BMW of the hospital exit ramp and on to the street. “That guy sound foreign to you?”
“He did,” Wolf said. “But I couldn’t place the accent.”
“And how about King Kong in the nurse’s outfit?”
“Who?”
“The guy that interrupted us.”
Wolf thought about it. “Yeah, come to think of it, his words did sound a little foreign as well. But again, I’d be hard pressed to say from where?”
McNamara went silent but Wolf could see he was still frustrated and angry.
“You want me to call and check on Rod?” Wolf asked. “I have his cell.”
“Check on him?”
“Yeah, you know. Tell him Elvis has left the building.”
“That little weasel ran out on us as soon as the going got a little bit tough,” McNamara said. “Like I said before, if he would’ve been on my squad—”
“Mac, cut the guy some slack,” Wolf said. “He’s obviously not cut from the same cloth as you and me, but he’s not that bad a guy. And it looks like he’s going to be your new son-in-law.”
“That’s why I’m so god damn upset. You don’t treat family like that.”
“Think about Kasey. What’s best for her? She obviously loves the guy.”
McNamara seemed to chew on this and then fell silent for the rest of the drive. After they’d arrived at the Ranch, he pulled the BMW in front of the house, shifted it into park, and shut the engine off. Mac’s phone chirped with a text and he glanced at it. Wolf started to get out and McNamara placed a hand on his arm.
“You’re right,” he said. “I do need to quit acting like an asshole and start thinking of Kasey and what’s best for her.”
Wolf was relieved to hear this and nodded.
“Actually,” McNamara said. “Her and me had a little talk earlier, while you were sleeping.”
Wolf waited for him to continue.
“We got a lot of things out in the open,” McNamara said. “Including how she’s been being unfair to you.”
Wolf felt suddenly awkward. That wasn’t a road he wanted to go down. He started to say something, but McNamara cut him off.
“She made that comment about you being the son I always wanted and how I was never there for her when she was growing up.” He paused and Wolf thought he saw tears glint in Mac’s eyes. “I told that was one of my biggest regrets. I also told her how you saved us down in Mexico. And that I was the one that dragged you down there.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, then McNamara added, “She wants to apologize to you.”
Wolf was stunned. Not only couldn’t he believe it, it wasn’t something he particularly wanted to deal with at the moment.
McNamara held up his phone. “She just texted me to remind me to bring you into the house.”
Wolf blew out a slow breath.
Was the Wicked Witch of the East about to turn into Glenda the Good?
They both got out and walked to the front door of the Ranch. Wolf felt conflicted and wondered if this apology was something that Mac had demanded or if it was Kasey’s idea.
When they went inside Chad ran to greet them, punching McNamara’s legs and then Wolf’s.
“Where’s your cane, grandpa?” he said. “If you’re not going to use it no more, then I want it.”
Wolf glanced and saw the cane was still hanging on the grandfather clock by the door and surmised that Chad was almost tall enough to retrieve it. The kid had good manners, though.
A fresh-faced teenage girl with her hair pulled back in a ponytail approached and steered Chad away from them. Wolf knew she was Bonnie, Kasey’s regular babysitter.
Kasey came in from the other room once again dressed in an evening dress. This one was navy-blue and had an array of fine netting along the neckline. Her short hair looked recently styled and she’d obviously taken her time doing her make-up. The angry glower that had so often marred her looks, like the other night at Charlie’s, had been replaced by a tentative, yet seemingly genuine smile. Wolf thought she even looked kind of pretty.
In a sisterly sort of way, of course.
After dispatching her son and Bonnie to go to his room for a few minutes, she approached Wolf and McNamara.
Wolf knew that the presence of Bonnie the babysitter must portend the imminent arrival of Shemp for the all-important dinner date. He hoped to get out of here before the lawyer’s arrival.
“Steve,” Kasey said, walking toward him with a sheaf of papers. “This is for you.”
He accepted them and saw they contained a lot of printed matter and pictures.
“I finally got a chance to run those names you wanted and did some more digging on things. I did checks on Jack Cummins, that guy named Eagan, Jason Zerbe, the Viper PMC, and Fallotti and Abraham Law firm. I even found some stuff out about that Von Dien person, that is, if his first name is Dexter.”
She was talking faster than normal here and Wolf took it to mean she was nervous. He tried to make her feel at ease.
“Wow, this is great,” he said, not wanting to use her name for fear of breaching some yet to be established etiquette.
“You’d better wait before you say that,” she said. “At least until you’ve read it. The law firm’s been dissolved, and a couple of the names have been virtually erased from the Internet.”
“I appreciate all your work. Thanks.”
“Actually,” she said slowly. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. For saving my father’s life. He told me what you did in Mexico.”
; “Well, I didn’t do that much …”
“That’s not what he told me,” she said. “And I believe him. You’re a special kind of person. A special kind of man. A special kind of soldier.”
Wolf felt embarrassed at the praise she was heaping upon him.
“There’s something else I need to say,” she said. “I apologize for the way I’ve been treating you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is.” Her eyes locked with his. “I’ve been a … a real bitch lately, and want you to know I really am sorry.”
Wolf felt like clicking his shoes together and saying, There’s no place like home.
Instead, all he could think to say was, “Apology accepted.”
With his peripheral vision he saw that Mac was standing off to the side grinning.
Kasey’s cell phone, which was on the desk by the computer, rang and she turned toward it.
“That’s probably Rod,” she said. “He was supposed to be here by now.”
Wolf and McNamara exchanged glances and Mac smirked and shrugged.
“I think I’ll retire to my humble abode and peruse these,” Wolf said, holding up the papers.
“Aw, hell, why not stay here instead. We can order a pizza, and grab a couple of beers, and go over this stuff together.”
A pizza did sound kind of good and Wolf was getting pretty hungry. He was just about to agree when they heard Kasey’s semi-scream. They both looked at each other and then ran into the other room, where Kasey stood with one hand touching her face and the other holding the phone down by her leg.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” McNamara asked.
Her hand dropped and she looked up, tears streaming down her face and causing black streaks of mascara.
“It’s Rod,” she said between sobs. “He’s dead.”
Preetorius watched and listened to what Zerbe was saying, all the time formulating the plan of attack in his mind. The ranch house lay before them, no more than seventy meters away. Even though it was still light out and less than ideal circumstances for a hard assault, the area was remote enough that they shouldn’t be noticed or disturbed. Although he was unsure of how long this interrogation would last, in many ways, he was very much looking forward to it. This fellow, Wolf, was responsible for the deaths of three members of the Lion Team, even though the Internet newspaper account said three unidentified men had been killed in an automobile crash outside of Kingman.
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