Chapter 28
Back at the Hole, David called Kathy. 'I don't have time to elaborate right now, Kath, but Robert is clean and our man is Bernie Bugles. I'm leaving for New York in a few minutes to bring him back.'
'Not so fast, now,' Kathy said. 'Think of the legalities. What about your authority to bring him back? Have you thought about that?'
'I have, and I've got it.'
'You've got it?'
'Yeah, I'm bigger than he is.' David left no room for comment. 'What I'll do is haul him in and you make the arrest.'
'Forget it, we'll issue an arrest warrant. That's simpler.'
'Kath, I've come this far and I want to bring him in myself. Play it my way, okay? If he eludes me, God forbid, issue the warrant.'
'Then I'm going with you. No-we're going with you. I'm calling Nick.'
'I can handle it.'
'David, I'll only worry about you. We're coming along,' she said, sternly.
He weighed the pros and cons of Kathy's decision. 'Okay, you're the law,' he groused, like a man complaining that rain was wet. 'I'm here at the hospital. How long will it take for you to get here?'
'I'll ring Nick right now-hope he's home. Half an hour?'
'I'll be out front.'
In the interim, David sat at his desk, reflecting on Robert's request of Bruno, odd under the circumstances, he thought. Buttressed, however, by Dr. Jake Reed's opinion that no karate-chop had been levied against Spritz, he eventually interpreted the request as Robert's way of asking for a total self-defense package, not realizing how deadly atemiwaza could be.
David was tempted to call Robert not only to inform him he was picking up his brother on suspicion of murder but also because, in so doing, he would be absolving him of culpability. Deep down, David felt a strange sense of relief that final arrows pointed away from Robert. For some time, he believed the box company shipping clerk was the odd man out in a global narcotics enterprise and deserved to be left alone, not subjected to the same scrutiny as Bernie or Spritz.
Yet, he reasoned, the blood of a half brother is still thicker than water. David fretted that Robert would tip off Bernie about his departure. So the dilemma was how to inform him and, at the same time, prevent him from warning Bernie. Solution? Ask him along.
After consulting the phone directory, he called his home. 'I have some news for you, Robert. It's not about you personally, I assure you, but it's the kind of thing best handled in person. Any chance of our getting together, say, in your parking lot out back?'
'Right now?'
'Right now. It's that important. I can be there in ten minutes.'
David filled the silence with a flash forward of either Kathy's or Nick's car trailing his to Manhattan. They'd better keep up, but I'm not about to help.
Finally, Robert cleared his throat and said, 'Sure, Dr. Brooks, if you say so. I'll be out there.'
Seven minutes later, on the shiny asphalt, David popped out of his Mercedes and draped one arm over its top as he shook hands with Robert. Familiar barking seemed shriller in the thin night air. David chose his words carefully after stumbling on the first few, 'I think … I believe … I owe it to you to inform you I'm leaving for New York to pick up your brother on suspicion of murdering Victor Spritz, and I was wondering whether you'd like to accompany me?'
The sky was black, the lighting economical, and David couldn't read Robert's reaction.
'Bernie?' he said softly, a cigarette caught on his lips, his head shrouded in clouds. He looked around. 'Bernie wouldn't hurt a fly. You sure?'
'Yes, Robert, the evidence is overwhelming.'
'And you want me to go with you? Why?'
Now, the giant leap. 'Because I want to avoid any violence, and having you along will give the situation some stability. You can talk him into cooperating, if it comes to that.'
Head bowed, Robert silently moved a pebble around with his foot, and David quickly added, 'Plus you probably know the directions better-you know some karate-all those things.' Hurry up, man, I don't have all night.
Robert stomped the cigarette into the asphalt and zipped up his tight Flying Tiger jacket. 'Yep, I'll go,' he said. 'But you got the wrong man there, Dr. Brooks.'
As he swung back to the hospital, David felt fortunate that Robert hadn't asked why a gun wouldn't be trained on his brother and, therefore, why his assistance was needed. Because David had no answer.
Conversation on the Merritt Parkway was meager as David was caught up in a farrago of loose ends. He tracked the lights of Nick's Buick in his mirror and gave hollow responses to Robert's recurrent but mild rejection of Bernie's guilt. He kept the top up despite the reading of forty-four on the dashboard's digital thermometer.
On the Henry Hudson Parkway in New York City, David twitched at the pulsation of his cellular phone.
'Yes.'
'It's me, Paul Johnson. The lights just went out in his apartment. He could be leaving. Shall I tail him if he does?'
'You have a car phone?'
'Yes.'
'Tail him-but, wait. Call me back to let me know definitely.' David spoke as if he were conversing over a piece of string from tin can to tin can. He clicked off and, after turning on the audible ring, placed the phone on the seat between his legs.
'Tail him?' Robert said. 'You mean Bernie?'
'Yes.' For most of the trip, David had included Robert in his glances to check right-hand lanes. And for most of the trip, he saw a wake-me-when-it's-over expression. But the phone call had changed things.
David crushed the accelerator pedal. Nick's lights kept pace.
The phone rang.
'Yes.'
'He left all right. Heading north on Amsterdam. I'm right behind him.'
'Good. I just pulled into 125th. Now if he comes this far, we're golden. I'll wait at the corner-where Amsterdam comes in. What are you driving?'
'A grey Ford Taurus.'
'What's he driving?'
'Looks like a Lincoln. Black. Man, he's got three antennas on the thing! One's as long as the car. Bends in the wind.'
'Stay on the line.'
'You bet. We're almost there. And-in fact-yes-I can see you. Black Mercedes convertible?'
'That's me. And I see him coming. Slow up at the corner and let me sneak in ahead of you.'
'Will do. By the way, did you know there's a white sedan parked right behind you?'
'Yeah, local gendarmes.'
'Local?'
'I mean Connecticut. They begged me to come along. Try to wedge in before them and then keep close to my tail. That'll bust their you-know-what.'
'As long as I don't have to answer to anyone back home.'
'I'll accept full responsibility. I'm signing off now … and, Paul?'
'Yes?'
'Great job. Many thanks.'
The four-car motorcade streaked over cracked cobblestone and tar, beneath outrageous neon, past pushcarts and inconsiderate buses trying to horn in. David took down the license number of the lead Lincoln. After rounding
