interfering. He’s trying to extort millions of dollars from Alex Jefferson’s wife. You sent Jefferson to him for help, but he turned on Jefferson.”
“Do you hear this?” Thor said. “Kidnapping. Do you know who becomes involved with kidnappings?”
Reed was silent until he saw Thor wanted a response, and then he spoke in a whisper. “The police.”
“The FBI,” Thor said. “Federal agents may be involved in this soon. They will talk to the police, who will tell them that they should talk to me. All of this, because of you.”
Reed was shaking his head again. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about. All I did was facilitate a meeting between you and Alex. I didn’t know what he wanted. I just—”
Thor reached down and wrapped his fingers in Reed’s shiny curls. He tightened his grip and lifted, and Reed hissed with pain and stumbled to his feet, trying to lessen the pressure. Thor’s right hand slipped into his pocket and then came back out with the silver Buck hunting knife that he favored. His thumb flicked against it, and then the blade was open and at Reed’s throat.
“I do not want to hear your excuses, your whining like a child. You have brought this to me, and now you will tell exactly what we want to hear, and nothing more. Do you agree with this?”
“Yes,” Reed whispered. The knife blade had been pressed tight against his Adam’s apple, but now Thor lifted it and rotated it so the point was pressed into the bottom of Reed’s fleshy chin, the blade facing out.
“Nod your head if you agree,” Thor said.
“I agree.”
“I said nod your head.”
Reed swallowed, looking at Thor’s face. The knife blade was placed at the bottom of his chin, keeping him from moving his head, but he decided it was best to try to nod anyhow. He bobbed his head, Thor guiding the motion with the hand he still had wrapped in Reed’s hair. When Reed nodded, the knife point slid up his chin and back down. For a second there was just a thin white imprint from the folds at the bottom of his chin to his lower lip. Then it opened up and blood seeped through it.
“Good,” Thor said. “First question.” He looked at me. For a moment I just stared back at him. Then I realized he was waiting.
“Did Jefferson come back to you after Thor turned him down?” I asked.
Reed’s small brown eyes tightened as he stared back at me. He didn’t know me, but he blamed me for his current position, standing there with blood oozing down his chin and a Russian killer’s hand tearing his hair out at the roots. He answered the question, though.
“Yes.”
“Did you send him to someone else? Another person to help him with his problem?”
Reed hesitated this time, and Thor tightened his finger and pressed the tip of the knife into his chin, puncturing a deeper hole through his flesh.
“No,” Reed said, and he dropped his eyes as far as he could, trying to look down at the knife.
“You’re lying,” I said. “Who did you send him to?”
“I didn’t send him anywhere.”
“Give us the name.”
“I just told you that I didn’t send him to anyone else.”
Thor was watching me while he held Reed. Now he dropped his hand, snapped the knife shut, and put it back into his pocket. He stepped away from Reed.
“You think he is lying?” he asked me.
“Yes.”
“I’m not lying, you asshole. I don’t even know what the hell you guys are doing here.” Reed wiped at his chin with his palm and smeared the blood, a hint of the bravado coming back as soon as the knife was gone from his face.
Thor walked away from us as if he’d lost interest in the discussion, went down the hallway, and disappeared into a room on the left. A second later a faucet squeaked and water began to run. Reed decided to take advantage of the momentary freedom and, casting a wary glance down the hall, hurried toward an end table with a telephone.
“I can call someone to remove you psychotics,” he said, reaching for the phone, “or you can leave on your own.”
He had the phone in his hand when I crossed my right fist into the back of his head, driving him forward, into the couch. I had his arm up and wrenched behind his back before he got his balance back, and I took the phone from his hand while I shoved him against the wall.
“You’re going to give me the name,” I said. “Until that happens, nobody is called, and nobody leaves. You know who Jefferson went to, you son of a bitch. Now tell me.”
“Bring him here.”
Thor spoke from behind us, and I turned to see him standing at the top of the sunken living room, gesturing me forward with one gloved hand. I pulled Reed upright and shoved him forward, toward Thor. Thor reached under his jacket and brought out a pistol, a Glock 9 mm very similar to my own. Reed began to tremble against me. Thor pointed the gun at his forehead and said, “Walk him into the bathroom.”
I pushed Reed down the hall, Thor walking backward in front of us, the gun trained on Reed.
“Let me go, unless you want me to start shouting,” Reed said, twisting against me but not making any headway. “There’s a security guard right underneath us. He’ll hear.”
“No, he will not,” Thor said. “And you will not shout.”
A door opened up to my left, and I forced Reed through it. We were standing in front of a large bathtub, scalding water cascading into it. Steam rose off the tub and clouded the mirror behind us. Reed was shaking now, his knees hammering.
“No, don’t . . . You’ve got to understand. I do
Thor stepped in beside me, placing his hand near my own, so that he was holding Reed’s arm behind his back. He twisted it upward, and Reed gasped in pain as his shoulder tendons pulled to their limits. I let go and stepped back.
“Take off his clothes,” Thor said.
“What?”
He’d placed the Glock back in its holster and had the knife out again. Now, in a quick flourish, he whipped the blade along Reed’s pinned arm, and the shirtsleeve parted and fell away. Two more quick cuts, and the suspenders flapped against his legs.
“Get his shirt off first,” Thor said. “Then the pants.”
I didn’t move, and he looked up at me, his blue eyes seeming to catch the light in the room and hold it. “The shirt first,” he repeated.
I stepped forward and grabbed Reed’s shirt at the collar. He put up his free arm to ward me off, but Thor grabbed it and jerked it behind his back and pinned both of his hands, holding him easily. For a thin man, Thor was remarkably strong. I tore the buttons loose and then ripped the shirt away from Reed’s chest. Thor cut the fabric free from the arms until the shirt dropped to the bathroom floor. Reed’s fat, pale chest and belly appeared. He was still shaking, and the rolls at his sides quivered, the white skin coated with sweat.
“Stop it,” he said. “Stop it. Don’t.” His words came out in ragged gasps.
“We will take your clothes off and you will step into the water,” Thor said. “You will have one last opportunity to be truthful. If you do not take it, I will cut your wrists, wait for you to die, then clean every trace of us from this apartment and leave you in the water.”
Reed bucked against him and then lunged forward, but Thor held on. A stream of urine ran down Reed’s leg, soaking his pants and trickling out around his ankle. Without looking down, Thor moved his foot out of the way.
“Take off his pants,” he said. “The pants and the shoes, and then we will put him in the water.”
“Tommy Gaglionci,” he said, his voice thick and choked. “I think that’s who he went back to.”
I looked at Thor, and for the first time since he’d walked into Cujo’s I saw some sort of reaction in his face.
