original Bank of America tower; nothing simplistic about that. Now the tower was a symbol of control and order, the antithesis of everything he stood for. He turned his eyes from it and towards the Inner Harbor directly ahead of them. From their slightly elevated vantage he could see across to the headland where Fort McHenry squatted, but he’d had quite enough of forts in the last year or so. Instead he directed the driver to the left, passing the Spirit of Baltimore that was moored at the wharf, and a twin-level collection of restaurants and boutique shops. Towering over it all was the World Trade Center, an odd construction with five sides, and beyond it a massive indoor aquarium complete with a cascading waterfall tumbling through a faux rainforest. A Hard Rock Cafe, a book store and sports bar dominated a reclaimed power plant and offered lively entertainment. None of those sights held any attraction for him.
‘You want crab cakes still?’
Cain frowned at the driver.
‘Crab cakes?’
‘You said you were hungry.’
‘Not for crustaceans, my friend. I prefer my bones on the inside.’
The driver adjusted his glasses again.
Another one that his wit was wasted upon, Cain thought. Maybe if the driver knew his passenger was the famous Harvestman he’d have chosen to be less trustworthy. That was a point worth redressing before they parted company. ‘Just take me to Fells Point, willya?’
‘Good restaurants there,’ the driver acknowledged with a wry smile. He knew exactly where Cain was heading to.
Baltimore Inner Harbor was the tourist destination of sightseers, Fells Point the place those same tourists flocked to of an evening, but beyond the spit of land were the shipping wharfs and one in particular owned by associates of Kurt Hendrickson. Baron had suggested it as an appropriate place for Cain to hold Jennifer.
Fells Point passed without attention from Cain, who was too intent on studying Jennifer again. When first he’d laid eyes on her he’d thought she was beautiful, and he didn’t give much credence to the old adage that beauty was skin deep; quite the opposite in fact. He couldn’t wait to discover Jennifer’s hidden treasures. He must keep her alive to bait his trap, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a start on her. Truth be told, it was a struggle not to clamber into the back of the van there and then and try out his new blades.
The van edged along an industrial area, warehouses alternating with freight yards stacked high with containers destined for locations throughout the world. It passed through a gate electronically controlled, but also under the baleful gaze of an elderly black man. The old guy had suffered an accident at some point and the lower half of his right leg had been amputated. Cain idly wondered what had become of the limb. The gate closed behind them and the driver directed the van along smooth concrete paving towards a loading dock and a decrepit container ship. The ship was circa 1950s vintage and carried each of its six decades etched in the corrosion of its metal work. The Queen Sofia now had the look of an aging dowager, and was about as appealing. In this case, Cain thought, ugly is also more than skin deep, and definitely runs to the bone. But to him the ship was a real sight for sore eyes.
Leaning into the rear compartment, Cain shook Jennifer’s shoulder. ‘Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Wakey wakey!’
Jennifer stirred, her mouth opening wordlessly, a string of sticky saliva glistening on her chin. The anaesthetic was still doing its work, and her vision went unfocused. Cain leaned deeper into the compartment, took her chin between his fingers and directed her gaze to the front.
‘Didn’t I tell you that you’d get treated to five-star accommodation?’ he said. ‘Jeez, first you get to hobnob with TV stars on an executive jet, now you get an all-expenses paid cruise. Hell, I keep treating you like this you won’t want anything to do with your husband any more.’ Cain pushed his thumb against the tip of her nose and Jennifer’s head rolled away from the pressure. ‘But, we can’t have that, can we? We can’t keep all this to ourselves, Jennifer. John has just got to come join us.’
Chapter 34
I was in no doubt that Cain would contact Walter soon. He hadn’t gone to all the trouble of snatching Jennifer to now sit on his thumbs. Pretty soon the demands would start, and I could be in motion again. I hated the feeling of futility while waiting for the deranged bastard to call, but had no choice. Waiting I’m not good at. My need to get going was like an itch I couldn’t scratch and the longer it went on, the more agitated I became. I considered taking Harvey’s advice and heading back to Rene Moulder’s place to check in with Rink, but that meant putting myself out of the loop for the best part of the day. I wanted to be on hand the moment that Walter gave me the nod. That meant staying close to his retreat, and the transportation I’d require.
Harvey left reluctantly, and I knew he wasn’t happy leaving me to deal with Cain alone. Just before setting off he appraised me with his molten chocolate gaze and I knew he was considering the alternatives and didn’t like what he was coming up with. Finally he’d just shaken his head slowly, clambered into his chopper and lifted off. I watched until the helicopter was lost in the cloud haze to the south. I was sorry to see my friend go, but at the same time happy that no one else I cared for was involved in the danger that constantly dogged me.
I tried sleeping; bunking in a back room as far away from where Bryce and the others had died as I could find, but sleep eluded me. Instead, I got up, showered, ate a sandwich and drank some coffee. Then I set to prepping my weapons. The SIG gleamed by the time I was done, and I turned my attention to the shells supplied to me by Walter. Contrary to popular belief, guns don’t jam, ammunition does. I checked each bullet individually before feeding them into three clips. Choosing. 40 S amp;W or. 357 SIG ammo would have given me more stopping power, but the clips held less capacity than the fifteen rounds that 9 mm Parabellums allowed. I had the feeling that I’d need plenty of bullets before I was done and the forty-five I had to hand wouldn’t necessary be overkill. Next I honed my Ka-bar.
My weapons prepared, I turned to honing my natural weapons.
I ran, following the river through the wooded valley, one ear always on my cellphone should Walter call me back in a hurry. When my breathing had settled into a rhythm, and my body was sufficiently warmed and lubricated, I incorporated strengthening exercises into my workout. On a large boulder that jutted over white water, I went through a sequence of attack and defensive movements taken from various martial arts forms. I finished my workout by stretching, then sat on the rock, listening to the sound of the rapids below me. Rink could have lost himself in the hypnotic lull of the rushing water, but I was too edgy for that. I got up and ran back, forcing myself to even greater effort. By the time I arrived at Walter’s cabin I’d killed a couple of hours, but there was still some waiting time ahead of me. But maybe it wouldn’t seem as interminable.
Imogen was standing on the stoop, her chin tucked low into her collar as she watched me jog across the field towards the house. She had her hair under a hat that was as much a disguise as it was to keep off the cold. She looked much as she had when we’d stood over her sister’s headstone back in Maine, only her tears were for something different this time.
Slowing, I walked the last twenty yards or so. Imogen kept her face dipped, but her gaze on mine. When I was still ten paces away, she came to meet me. Maybe I didn’t have the right, but I opened my arms and she entered their circle and snaked her hands around my waist.
We just held each other and I could feel her heartbeat against my chest. When we finally stepped apart, Imogen held on, her right hand clasping a handful of my sweatshirt like she’d never let go.
I’d thought that the best thing for her would be if I walked away, but I could see that I’d been wrong. Walking away didn’t change a damn thing. Imogen was inexorably tied to me and she always would be. I could be on the other side of the planet and she’d still be within the sphere of influence that surrounded me, and therefore in peril from those who would do me harm. Better then that I keep her close and that way she’d be much safer. I pulled her into my embrace and she tilted her mouth to mine in silent acknowledgement.
When she stepped back she did let go, but the bond between us was stronger than before.
‘I’m sorry, Imogen…’
Really I had no way of explaining myself, feeling awkward as I attempted to order an apology in my mind.
