“Yes. We went out one night to view the facility, make sure it looked clean and professional.”
“Did it?”
“Yes. And Dr. Stayner came with us, which helped. Gave it all the credibility we needed. He also assured us he’d handle Lesley’s aftercare. She’ll still have a long road ahead of her once she gets the kidney. More anti- rejection drugs, ironically. The very thing that put her in this position.”
“What entrance are you supposed to go in tomorrow?”
“We were told to go around the back to the receiving area.”
“What vehicle are they expecting?”
“The Town Car.”
“With the two guards?”
“No. Just me and Lesley.”
If Daggett was serious about taking Jenn’s organs, it would likely be when the surgical team was done with Lesley and her donor. Sometime around one in the morning. Not the best time for an assault but far from the worst-if Ryan could get us more men. I told McConnell to give me a number where he could be reached day or night. He added it to the back of the card that had gained me entry. I gave him my cell number, which he memorized.
“Do we have a deal?” he asked.
“I’m going to do whatever I have to do to get Jenn out of there. Unharmed. If allowing your wife’s procedure to take place helps, then I’ll allow it. If it hurts, all bets are off.”
“That’s not much of an assurance.”
“And I’m not reporting you to the FBI or sixteen House committees.”
Posturing aside, we ended up with if not a deal, then an understanding of sorts. I can’t say exactly what his understanding was but mine was clear: If the best time to get Jenn out was before his wife’s surgery, I’d disrupt it. And try to kill Daggett on the way out.
I left Louisburg Square and walked the short distance from Beacon Hill to Copps Hill in the North End where Dante Ryan had been conducting his morning-long surveillance in a cafe called Daberto.
“Unless something better presents itself between now and then,” I said, “we have two options for tomorrow night. Hit the place right before or right after they operate on Lesley McConnell. Any update from your friend?”
“He’s sending two guys out to meet us.”
“Who?”
“Their names are Frank and Victor.”
“What do you know about them?”
“They’re in one of his crews, was all he said. Soldiers.”
“Can four of us take Halladay’s?”
“Not so fast. What he agreed to was they’ll meet us. We’ll sit and discuss the plan and they’ll decide how deeply they want to be involved, was how he put it.”
“That’s it?”
“I told you, Jonah, this guy has what your people would call
“A made man?”
“I won’t acknowledge that verbally but watch me nod. Now, as long as there’s nothing too wacky, I think they’re in.”
“They provide their own guns?”
“Sidearms, sure. More than that, we might have to outfit them.”
“Then let’s hope Lugo works Sundays.”
Lugo was indeed home and working. Ryan told him what we were looking for, listened and said, “For that price, John, you should be coming with us. No, I’m not haggling. I’m just saying … all right, but you’re going to miss out on all the fun.”
When he hung up, I called the Stayner home and got his wife. She said he couldn’t come to the phone right now.
“Tell him it’s an emergency.”
“Aren’t you the man who was here yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“And you had an emergency then?”
“This one’s worse.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Geller, it’s Sunday. Charles needs his downtime.”
“Ma’am, please pass the phone to your husband. Let him decide if he wants to take it or not.”
Ryan said, “Tell her if she doesn’t, I’m gonna shove it up her ass.”
“If you don’t put him on,” I said to Mrs. Stayner, “he’ll have to talk to the police instead.”
“About what?”
“You can ask him when we’re done.”
“Oh, just a minute.”
She put the receiver down none too gently on a hard surface and I heard steps recede into the distance. A minute later, different steps approached.
“What the hell are you trying to do!” Stayner said. “Implying to my wife I have something to hide from the police? She doesn’t know anything about what’s going on.”
“If you don’t want her to, shut up and listen.”
“You can’t-”
“David is dead,” I said.
“What!”
“He was murdered this morning.”
“No.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Oh, God. Poor David.” His voice sounded choked with genuine emotion. For whom, I wondered.
He said, “Do the police know who did it?”
“I don’t know. Let’s call from your house and ask.”
“You’re coming here?”
“Right now.”
“But there’s nothing else I can do.”
“Oh yes, there is.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you when I get there.”
“You’re not bringing your goon?”
“Watch it,” I said. “David was shot to death this morning in front of my eyes. The goon could easily be me.”
CHAPTER 29
Jesus Christ, Sean thought, the big blonde bitch had broken Kieran’s leg with her car. He’d needed a plate to stabilize the shin bone, she’d busted it so bad. He had a deep gash in the back of his head too, from where his head had banged off the headlight of a parked car, all kinds of glass and paint and chips they had to pick out of there. They’d had to shave the whole back of his head, but left the long floppy front until he woke up so they could ask him if he wanted that buzzed off too. But when he came around, he was so pissed off at what had happened, at what she’d done to his leg, he told them the first person to touch him with a buzzer or anything else was gonna die. Sean was glad they were keeping Kieran in the bed with his leg up, all those tubes in his arm. Otherwise, he’d be hopping bare-assed down the hallway in his hospital gown, looking for his car to go run down the bitch.
But she was already down, way down, which left one to go: the PI from Toronto who had led them to the
