Parker stood absolutely still for a long time, listening, alert, waiting. Facing the road as he was, he stood at the rear left side of the house, with the large living room making a C-shape to his right, around a central core. At his back was a wall separating this space from an interior coat-room and wet bar, its doorless doorway directly behind him. At the right end of that wall was the staircase, open to the living room up here, that went downward, flanked by interior walls, into the rear of the dining room one level below. To his left was the remnant of wall and the second smaller staircase that had been put in when the house was divided into two.
Not a sound in the house, nothing to be heard, not anywhere. Would he be able to hear people on the lower levels? Would they have heard him? The house was solid, even if very open, with these stairwells and open-plan rooms. What could be heard in here?
Very slowly his concentration shifted. There was still nothing to be heard, but he'd become aware of something else. Something very faintly in the air, something he could smell. Just a hint on the air, but it had to be very recent. A homely smell, almost a joke, but a warning. Pizza.
4
They're in here, Parker thought. Liss and Quindero. They would have seen me coming. Standing here, watching, eating the pizza they'd brought in. And now they're waiting. Liss didn't shoot, as I came in the door.
What are they waiting for? To see if Mackey is with me? No. To lead them to the money.
Parker stayed motionless. He seemed to be looking out at the fence and the road, but his attention was inward and behind him, and he was thinking. Liss had tried to kill him at the hospital, but was waiting now. Why? Because, at the hospital, for all Liss knew Parker had already been caught, and could be expected to trade Liss for lighter treatment for himself. But here and now, with Parker not in the hands of the law, and with the money not in Liss's hands, Liss wouldn't want to kill him. Not yet. Not until he had the duffel bags.
Where is he? Where's his new ball boy, the punk Quindero? Either he's hoping to stay out of sight and wait for me to leave, and then follow me to the money, meaning he's down a couple of flights right now, staying well out of the way, or he's close, in the room behind this one, wanting to make a move, waiting only to be sure I'm alone.
That was the way to play it. Liss hovering, just out of sight, the way he did last night. Softly, not turning around, speaking in a conversational way as though the discussion had been going on for some time, Parker said, 'Well, George, here we are.'
Nothing. No response. Parker focused on the outside world, where nothing had changed. In the same easy tone, he said, 'Everybody makes mistakes. But then we move on.'
Still nothing. Maybe he really was alone in here, but he didn't believe it. 'George,' he said, 'we can go on making trouble for each other, but that way we both lose, and Ed Mackey takes home the whole jackpot. Or we can go back to the original idea, three guys, three splits.'
'What do I need you for?'
The voice was very faint, with that slur in it caused by the dead half of Liss's face. It came from well back, probably the doorway to the interior room. Parker didn't smile, but he relaxed, because he knew now everything would be all right. He'd kill Liss when the time came, and Brenda and Mackey would be waiting for him at eleven o'clock and all would be well. Still not turning, he said, 'George, you know what you need me for. Without me, you'll never see the money.'
'You know where it is?'
'Not now. I know where it's going to be.'
'When?'
'Twelve tonight.'
'Where?'
Parker shook his head, and smiled at the narrow view between the plywood and the stainless steel. 'George,' he said, 'why do you want me to lie to you?'
'We'll all go there together, is that the idea? At twelve?'
'All?'
'I've got a new partner.'
So Quindero was with him back there. Liss wouldn't call him a partner out of his hearing. Parker said, 'The kid from the hospital.'
'He's going to come over to you,' Liss said. 'He's going to frisk you. Don't turn around.'
Parker shrugged, with hands wide. Faint movement behind him was reflected in the glass in front, not clear enough to be of any use. He said, 'George, if you're holding a gun, put it away. I don't want to see it. We've got to get along if you're ever gonna see your share of the money.'
'Are you carrying?'
'Yes.'
'Here's my problem,' Liss's slurring voice said. 'Maybe I need you to get to the money. But if you know where it is, or where it's gonna be, why do you need me?'
That was the question. Parker had to finesse it and make it believable, or Liss would kill him here and now and try to figure out some other way to get to the money. The truth was, Parker needed Liss because Liss had a gun on him. Parker needed Liss only so long as Liss had the option to kill him. Parker needed Liss until they were back on an even footing. Then Parker would kill him.
Which was the thought he didn't want Liss to develop. He said, 'George, ever since you made that little mistake with the shotgun, we've both been looking over our shoulder. I need my concentration for other things, and so do you. We don't have to kill each other, and we don't have to lose out on the money. We team up again, we
