'Give me Lieutenant Jacobs, please. I imagine he's gone home. What's his phone number? Listen, this is Dillon Savich, FBI. We've got a real problem here and I need help fast.'
Savich was on the phone to Jacobs even as he was bending down to pick up Sherlock's purse. It was a big black leather shoulder bag. He'd kidded her about carrying a full week's change of clothes and running shoes in there. 'Is Lieutenant Jacobs there, please?' He carefully pulled out each item. It was when he got to her small cosmetic bag that he went really slowly. He unzipped it just a little bit at a time, holding it upright.
'Is this you, Lewis? Savich here. I've got a huge problem. You know all about Marlin and Erasmus Jones? Well, they're here in Washington and they've got two of my agents-Agent Sherlock and Agent Paisley. Hold just a second.' Slowly Savich turned the cosmetic bag inside out. There written in eyebrow pencil was: Calvert & Williams, wareh-
Damn, she was good. 'Lewis, she managed to leave me a message. There's a warehouse at Calvert and Williams. Marlin and his dad have both Agent Sherlock and Agent Paisley. He's going to make her go through a maze, Lewis, and Marlin will be at the center. He'll kill her. Do a silent approach, all right? I'll see you there in ten minutes.'
He couldn't believe it. His Porsche wouldn't start. He tried again, then raised the hood. Nothing obvious, not that he was a genius with cars. He cursed, then kicked the right front tire. Then he ran into the street. A motorist nearly ran him down, slammed down on his brakes, and weaved around him. Savich cursed, then stood there, right in the middle, waving his arms.
A taxi pulled up. A grinning black face peered out at him. 'Well, if it isn't the lucky man who's going to marry that pretty little gal.'
35
THERE WAS NO TIME. NO time at all.
She didn't want to die, didn't want to lose her life to this crazy bastard who was grinning at her like the madman he was. No, he wasn't mad, he knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew it was wrong. He enjoyed it. Remorse was alien to him. Being really human, in all its complexity and simplicity, was alien to him.
She looked at Hannah, who was standing with her back against one of Marlin' s props, her head down. At first Lacey thought she was numb with fear, but then she realized she wasn't terrified senseless, which Marlin and Erasmus probably thought. No, it was an act. Hannah was getting her bearings, thinking, figuring odds.
Good. Let them think she was broken. Lacey called out, her voice filled with false concern she was sure Hannah would see right through, 'Hannah, are you all right?'
'Yes, but for how long?' Hannah didn't look at her, just kept breathing deeply, staring at the filthy wooden floor. 'I don't suppose there's a chance that Savich will get here?'
'I don't know.'
'Shut up, both of you cunts!'
'Really nice language from your daddy, Marlin.'
'He can say whatever he wants, Marty. You know that. He's a man.'
'Him? A man?' It was Hannah, her voice hoarse because Erasmus had choked her when she'd tried to get away from him. 'He's a worm, a cowardly worm who raised you to be a rabid murderer.'
Hannah didn't even have time to ready herself before Erasmus hit her hard on the head with the butt of Lacey's SIG. Lacey knew she'd lost it. Otherwise she would have forced herself to be silent.
'I'll enjoy cutting her throat,' Erasmus said, standing over an unconscious Hannah. She was drawn up in the fetal position. There was a trickle of blood from her nose.
'So you will kill her,' Lacey said, and smiled at Marlin. 'I'm not going into your maze. There's no reason to. She isn't leverage. You're going to kill her too. You heard your sweet daddy.'
Erasmus raised his hand to strike her, but Marlin grabbed his wrist. 'Marty's mine. I'll handle her. Lookee here, Pa, a little druggie. You want to take care of her?'
A young black girl, dressed in ragged filthy jeans and an old Washington Redskins jersey, with holes in the elbows, was crouched by the door of the warehouse, her eyes huge, knowing she was in the wrong place and knowing too there was nothing she could do about it. Erasmus walked to the girl, took her by the neck, and shook her like a chicken. Lacey heard the girl's neck snap. It was unbearable. She closed her eyes but not before she saw Erasmus toss the girl aside like so much garbage.
'I'll see if there are any more scum inside,' Erasmus said and slid through the narrow opening into the huge derelict building. The area was godforsaken, bleak, an air of complete hopelessness about it. All the buildings had been abandoned by people who had just given up. All were in various stages of dilapidation. There were old tires lying about, cardboard boxes stacked carefully together to cover a homeless person. It was the nation's capital and it looked like the remains of Bosnian cities Lacey had seen on TV a while back.
Marlin took her chin in his palm and forced her face up. 'Guess what, Marty?'
'My name's Lacey.'
'No, you're Marty to me. That was how you came on to me in Boston. That's how you'll go out. Guess what I found?'
She just stared at him mutely.
He pulled her Lady Colt out of his pocket. 'I remembered this little number. This is the gun you shot me with in Boston. You were hoping I'd forget, weren't you? You wanted to blast me again, didn't you? Well you aren't going to do anything now. I win, Marty. I win everything.'
'You won't win a thing, you slug. I'm not going to walk into your maze.'
'What if I promise you that I'll let her go?'
She laughed. 'Your daddy's the one who's going to kill her, Marlin, not you.'
'All right, then. I have another idea.' Marlin twisted her chin, then slapped her. 'Come on, Marty, Show Time.'
Erasmus came out of the warehouse, dragging a ragged old man by his filthy jacket collar. 'Just one, Marlin- this poor old bastard. He's gone to his reward. I bet he'd thank me for releasing him if he had any breath left.'
Erasmus lowered the old man to the rotted wooden planks outside the warehouse, then kicked him next to a stack of tires. 'Take your girlie, Marlin, and have her walk the walk. I want to get out of this damned city. It's unfriendly, you know? And just look around you. People ain't got no pride here. Ain't nothing but devastation. Don't our government have any pride in their capital?'
Marlin smiled down at Lacey, raised the .44 Magnum, and brought it down on the side of her head. She was hurled into blackness before she hit the ground.
'Now, I've got to do this just so,' Marlin said to his father as he leaned down over Hannah. 'Yes, just so. I can't wait to see her face when she finally comes to the center of the maze, when she finally comes to me.'
Four local police cars cruised in silently, all of them parked a good block from the warehouse. Men and women quietly emerged from the cars, Lewis Jacobs bringing them to where Savich had just arrived in a taxi, a tall middle-aged black man next to him.
'Jimmy Maitland will be here soon, along with about fifteen Special Agents,' Savich said quietly. 'Now, here's what we're going to do.'
Lacey awoke slowly, nausea thick in the back of her throat, her head pounding. She tried to raise her head, just a bit, but the dizziness brought her down. She closed her eyes. Marlin had struck her with a gun over her left ear, the bastard. Harder this time than in Boston. He'd probably laughed when she was unconscious at his feet. She lay there silently, waiting, swallowing convulsively, praying that Dillon had found her message, but knowing in her gut that she had to depend on herself, not on some rescue. Where was Hannah?
It was deathly silent in the huge gloomy warehouse, except for the sound of an occasional scurrying rat. The air was thick and smelled faintly rotten, as if things had died here and just been left where they'd fallen. Her nausea increased. She swallowed, willing herself not to vomit. There was a small pool of light in front of her, thanks to Marlin.
There was also a ball of string.
Think, dammit, think. He had her gun, both her guns. She looked around very slowly, wondering if he or Erasmus could see her. There was nothing she could see to use as a weapon, nothing at all.
Except the string. She came up slowly onto her knees. She still felt light-headed, but the dizziness was better. Just a few more moments. At least he'd removed the ropes from her hands and feet. At least she was free.
