shook his head.
'Are you done insulting me?'
She's hopeless. But then something hit him: Could there have been a connection between Jake Mendoza and the Cubans? Why else would they have bothered? What did they care about NYPD internal politics?
'You may be guilty of obstruction of justice,' he told her. She didn't blink. 'I'd consult a private attorney if I were you.'
But he could tell from her stare that she had no idea of how deeply she was compromised.
'All the stuff in Cuba-it didn't hurt me as much as I said. I'm a New York City detective, for Christ's sake. We're used to taking crap.' He waited until she met his eyes. 'What I can't handle is betrayal. That cuts too deep.'
She studied him, her old tough self again, measuring him, trying to figure out what he was going to do.
'I want a transfer,' he announced. 'My whole squad out of here.'
'Don't be ridiculous.'
'Shut up! You don't talk to me like that anymore.'
She looked down at the carpet. 'Okay, a transfer. Where to? Internal Affairs?'
'I want to report directly to the commissioner.'
She started to protest, but he cut her off. 'Shandy says you're going to have dinner with him tonight. That's when you'll arrange it.'
'Tell me why?'
'I don't want to work for you anymore. Also, I'm going to solve Mendoza and I don't want to think about who might fall.,'
'Surely you don't think I-'
'I'm not saying what I think. I got one other case to finish up around here. I should be done with it tomorrow.' He started across the room.
'Frank!' He turned. 'Can't we, you know-?'
'Make it up?' He shook his head.
'Twenty years of friendship and now it's over-is that really how you want it?'
'Maybe someday I'll forgive you, Kit. But don't hold your breath.'
He left without shutting the door.
The Snare That night he dreamed of mirrors.
He was wandering through a mirror maze like Gelsey's, but far more treacherous. As he made his way, the floors rolled like the deck of a ship, and the mirrors flexed toward him, sometimes touching above his head.
The reflections were different, too. Instead of giving back images of himself, they showed the likenesses of others: Jake Mendoza, Tania Figueras, Fonseca, Violetta, Dakin, Timmy Sheehan and Kit. These simulacra were threatening. They stared into his eyes with mockery.
Their expressions taunted: 'You're lost, Janek. You'll never find your way out. Never!
Early the next morning he called Ray and Aaron at home, and explained his transfer request without mentioning Kit's duplicity. He told them that since, from a career point of view, it was probably a risky venture, they should feel free to transfer out of the squad.
Ray asked if he was serious. Aaron told him that he would regard exclusion from the Mendoza investigation as an act of personal betrayal.
When he called Sue, she responded with her own special twist:
'You friggin' kidding', Frank?' She was laughing. 'You need a dyke cop like me who's, you know, politically correct.'
After thanking her, he asked how Gelsey was doing.
'She's asleep. We were talking till late. She took me downstairs.
Geez! I never saw anything like that!' 'Well, wake her up,' Janek said.
'Bring her into the city. We're going to set a trap, but not in Jersey.
I don't want any jurisdictional disputes.'
He stopped by Deforest's office, filled him in, requested arrest war-rants for Diana Cassiday and Stephen Kane. Then he told Deforest that he and his people were leaving the division. When Deforest heard what he intended to do, he soberly wished Janek good luck.
Back at Special Squad, he briefed Aaron and Ray, instructing them to find a good location for a trap. He also told them to sign out field videotape equipment and the best body-wire unit Special Services could provide. Then he called Netti Rampersad.
'Frank… ' She savored his name with the warmth of a casual lover.
'Sorry, I don't have very good news. Sarah's attorney called to say she'll fight the alimony rollback. What I need now is that dossier you mentioned that shows how Sarah and Gilette are living high off the hog.'
'I'll bring it right down.'
This time when she greeted him, she was not wearing workout clothes but was dressed in an expensive, smartly cut pin-striped gray linen suit.
'Excuse the battle dress,' she said. 'I'm due in court.'
Doe Landestoy turned away and giggled.
Janek handed her Aaron's Sarah-Gilette file. He had never read it. She put it in her desk.
'Can we go someplace and talk?'
'You can walk me over to the courthouse,' Netti said.
'Where's Rudnick?' he asked on the stairs.
'In the law library. He haunts the place.'
'The other night-' 'Please, Frank,' she said gently, 'don't tell me you've ad regrets.'
'Absolutely not.'
'Neither have I.'
'Well, now that that's settled..
They emerged laughing onto Canal Street, made their way through the throng, crossed, then entered Chinatown. 'I need a favor,' Janek said.
'What's up?'
'A young woman I know is in pretty bad trouble. She needs a good lawyer.'
Netti opened her purse, handed him her business card. 'Tell her to call me anytime.'
They walked past a pagoda-shaped telephone booth. The sidewalks were slippery. Chinese men in sleeveless shirts were unloading fish off the backs of trucks.
'I wonder if you'd-?'
'-finish telling you what I started to tell you the other night?'
He gazed at her. 'Are you telepathic?'
'Depends on who I'm talking to.'
'You amaze me.' I She smiled. 'Let's hope I always do.'
The air on Mott Street was aromatic: roasting barbecued ducks and ribs, scented breads.
'So, what do you want to know?' she asked.
'You mentioned the Clury angle, how it was connected, as opposed to the way everyone thinks. You said something about another agenda, someone wanting Clury blown up for his own reasons.'
'You've got a good memory.'
'It was a night to remember.
She smiled again. 'Forget Mendoza for a while, follow up on Clury. You might discover something that'll give you a whole new slant on the thing.'
'I can see why you'd want me to forget Mendoza.'
'Nothing to do with my representing him. Just take a look at the case from another point of view-the Clury point of view.'
'You're being cryptic.'
'I have to be.'
They passed a greens market. Two elderly Chinese women, with Mao-era haircuts, were picking over the vegetables.
