of his interest.
It was then that I remembered where I had seen Mr. Christopher. He was the big man leaving the Messenger of the Divine storefront on the night I was so cold and sleepy.
“This is totally unacceptable,” Milo said, sputtering as he spoke. “I was to meet Mr. Widlow, and I expect to meet with him …”
Milo kept talking because he sensed danger. Words were Milo’s weapons, so he pulled them out. I wasn’t concerned about the bailbondsman or his fears, but when I looked over at Fearless, I saw that his hand had edged nearer to his gun pocket. Fearless was preparing to fight for his life. I could see that in his posture and the almost imperceptible furrow at the center of his brow. I wasn’t worried about Fearless though — if anybody could survive that kind of battle, he could, but the odds for me and Milo weren’t so good.
Under the fear of impending death and with the recognition of Christopher, who I would have bet was the Nazi Holderlin, everything else fell into place in my mind. I wondered if the nearness of death caused some chemical reaction in the brain that increased intelligence, as some scientists say that adrenaline increases physical strength in times of great stress.
I sat forward and said, “We know where Elana Love is at, and she has the bond.”
“Where?” Leon asked from the sidelines.
“My colleague has a good question, Mr. Minton,” Minor said.
“What’s it worth?” I asked.
The little man pressed out his lips and shrugged. “My patience is wearing thin, my friend. Sol Tannenbaum stole my money. It took me many years to get to this moment. Don’t press your luck.”
“You mean the art treasures you stole from the poor people that Mr. Christopher sent to the gas chamber?”
Mr. Christopher said something in German.
“What’d he say?” Leon demanded. “I told you muthahfuckahs I don’t want you talkin’ that shit around me.”
Fearless’s hand was at the opening of his pocket.
I felt my own pistol pressing into my stomach at the belt line.
I wanted to get us up on our feet and going through the door. That was a natural advantage that I was sure Fearless could capitalize on.
“We could take you to her,” I suggested to Minor, “but we’d have to get something for that.”
“Why bother, Paris?” Fearless said. “Go on, tell him.”
I turned to Fearless, speechless.
Fearless smiled.
“Tell him what the Israeli guys said.” Fearless leaned forward across the desk, reaching into his pocket as he did so. “Elana took the bond to these Israeli guys been lookin’ for you. She showed ’em the bond, and they found out that it wasn’t part’a the big money you lost.” Fearless nodded toward Leon and Tricks. “That means he don’t need you no more, Leon. If there ain’t no treasure, then there ain’t no cut. He’ll probably tell that fancy lawyer you got to cut you loose.”
“What’s he sayin’, Minor?” Leon said.
“It’s nothing. It’s a trick.”
“That cop, that Latham, he was workin’ for the Israelis,” Fearless went on. “He took Elana there before Grove called you. You know I ain’t lyin’.”
Minor’s eyes showed uncertainty. I remember thinking that Fearless had probably succeeded in getting us killed.
Mr. Christopher chose that unfortunate moment to practice his German.
“I told you to talk English,” Leon shouted. He pulled a pistol from under his shirt.
“Get down!” Fearless screamed.
He grabbed my chair, upturning it into Milo. We both tumbled over, shouting. Mr. Christopher shouted something else in German. One shot was fired. I was turned on my back, facing Minor, who stood erect like a soldier holding a pistol at arm’s length. He fired and I turned, expecting to see Fearless die.
He was already firing when the bullet entered his forehead. Then the tall and slender black man named Tricks fell straight down in a heap.
