useof Perchek's initials, neither Harry nor Maura was at all comfortable with whathe was being asked to do. Still, as the caller had said, they could think of noreason Perchek would want to lure him into a trap. It couldn't be for themoney. Surely, twenty-five thousand dollars was nothing more than petty cash tothe man.
It seemed as if there was nothing he coulddo but follow the instructions to the letter and hope for the best. But whenMaura noticed the phone Evie had installed in the BMW, she had the germ of anidea. And soon after that, they had a plan. There were three elements essentialto their strategy, and Maura possessed them all: another car, a cellular phone,and the courage and willingness to put herself in harm's way. They had stoppedby a newsstand and bought a detailed street map of the area surrounding FortLee. On it, the landfill was nothing more than a blank spot near the river, twoblocks square, surrounded by suburban streets. As soon as possible, Maura wouldpick up her car and her phone. She would then drive someplace near the landfilland, without being seen, find her way to a spot where she could hide and watchthe field. At eight-twenty, after he had left the garage, she would call him.She would check in once again after he had reached the New Jersey side. Ifthere was no sign of a trap, he could proceed to the landfill with moreconfidence. If problems did develop, she would have the phone to call for help.They had a gun, the one Harry had taken from the killer in Central Park. Afterarguing for Harry to keep it, she finally agreed that it made more sense forher to have it.
'Sir, I'm sorry for the delay.'
Harry spun around to the teller's cage andthen realized that the young woman was standing next to him.
'Oh, yes. No problem.'
He held his breath and clenched his fiststo keep his hands from shaking. It was already nearing rush hour. If the bankcame through, Maura would still have a tough enough time getting across theGeorge Washington Bridge, finding a place to leave her car, and then locating aback way into the landfill. If they had to deal with Phil, whether or not hecame through with the money, it would be nearly impossible for her to get therein time.
'If you'll come with me, sir, Mr. Kinchleywill have your money.'
'That would be fine,' he said, smilingcalmly, his pulse hammering in his ears.
Kevin Loomis sat alone in his basementoffice, photographs of his family and his life with Nancy spread out on hisdesk beneath a checklist he had drawn up. Every item on the list had been takencare of now. The insurance policies were absolutely airtight as long as therewas no suspicion that his death was a suicide. Suicide would cost him — wouldcost
He had put careful thought into the guestlist he had drawn up for the barbecue dinner party they were giving thefollowing night. The guests, fourteen in all, included the most respected,successful, influential, and community- conscious people they knew. Their pastorand his wife, Nancy's boss and his wife, the lawyer who was head of the localLittle League association, the president of the Rotary Club. Nancy thought it abit strange that Kevin had chosen to invite only two of their more fun-lovingbeer-drinking friends, but she accepted Kevin's explanation that he wanted tothank some people before the move to Port Chester.
In fact, he wanted guests who would mosteffectively and eloquently vouch for his cheerfulness and his hospitality rightup until the moment of the accident, as well as to the fact that he had 'had afew.' Two of them would accompany him down to the basement. The two he plannedto pick were men at whose homes he had done minor repair work in the past, astore manager and the pastor. They would be on the stairs, their flashlightbeams fixed on the water gushing from the detached washing machine hose. Theywould attest to Kevin having the skills necessary to take care of the emergencyand would report on his movements through the inches-deep water on the concretefloor. The moment Kevin's hand came down on the shorted wire of the dryer wouldremain forever fixed in their minds. But what the hell. They were friends whowould do anything for Nancy. And he was paying a far greater price.
The children were accounted for as well.Nicky and Julie were going to spend the night with friends. Brian would be withNancy's parents. It was strange to think that tomorrow afternoon, when he sent themoff, he would be looking at each of them for the last time. They would have atough time of it, but not nearly as tough as if their family became destituteand their father went to prison.
He stacked the photos up and reviewed eachone for a final time. Then he wrapped them with a rubber band and set them in adrawer. The lists he tore up and threw in a plastic bag full of trash, which hewould put in the barrels in the garage. Finally, he went once more to thewasher and dryer to check on his handiwork. The twine that ran from theloosened hose out the basement window was in place. One pull and the hose wouldcome free. Cutting the twine off and discarding it would be his next to lastact on earth. The last would be innocently setting his hand on the back of thedryer.
Kevin knew that Harry Corbett suspectedwhat he was planning to do. There was nothing subtle about the Vietnam story hehad told that night in the car. And in fact, he had thought a great deal aboutwhat Corbett was trying to tell him, that his situation wasn't hopeless. Thatwas all well and good for Corbett to say. He didn't have three kids to providefor.
Kevin had spoken with him several timessince then and had been careful to sound upbeat and positive. He did notbelieve Corbett intended to act on his concerns. What was there for him to do,anyway? A little more than twenty-four hours and it would all be over.
Kevin inspected the setup he had createdaround the washing machine and dryer. The police would come over and file somesort of report. But there was no way anyone could prove this wasn't anaccident. Absolutely none.
He sighed the relief of a man who had justcompleted a job and done it well. Tonight he would have a wonderful dinner withhis family. And later on, he would make love to Nancy, as he had never madelove before.
Chapter36
The late summer heat wave that had beenblamed for brownouts, accidents, and deaths throughout the city had finallybroken. The early evening temperature was in the mid-sixties, with a decentbreeze and the threat of rain. Harry dropped Maura at her car at exactly sixand then returned to the parking-space condominium to await his eight-fifteendeparture. The BMW's dashboard clock had been out of commission for years, andneither he nor Evie had ever bothered to get it fixed, so he was using hisCasio to keep track of time. He was nearing the garage when Maura called tocheck in, test her cellular phone, and report that traffic from her apartmentto the bridge was only moderate. Her next call would be the one at eight-twentythat they had prearranged.
'This is it, Harry,' she said. 'You'llsee. By ten o'clock tonight we'll be ready to go to the police. They'll have tobelieve us this time. Just hang in there.'
Harry parked in his spot and walked out ofthe garage. A police cruiser was moving slowly along, half a block away,perhaps looking for him, perhaps not. Thanks to Ray Santana, there was nowabsolutely no place where he could safely go. He returned to the BMW, flippedon the radio again, and waited.
WINS, the all-news station, was stillbroadcasting updates every ten minutes or so on the bizarre developmentssurrounding the gunman at Manhattan Medical Center. The real Max Garabedian hadbeen taken into police custody, questioned, and released. He had returned tohis 103rd Street apartment and was refusing to speak to the press untiladvised to do so by his attorney. In a prepared statement, read by his lawyer,Garabedian denied knowing anything of the man admitted to Manhattan MedicalCenter under his name. He denied having any relationship with Harry other thanpatient/physician, but called Harry 'an intelligent, dedicated doctor,' andexpressed his determination to hold off any judgment until the truth came out.
Harry gave passing thought to trying tocall Garabedian from his car phone. But this was no time for him to be doinganything at all except sitting and waiting until eight-fifteen.
There was more. Ray Santana had not beencaught. Authorities were at a loss to explain how a gunman in pajamas with noshoes or socks could have made it out of the hospital with security police anddozens of NYPD
