at least he could do this for Charlie’s kid.
‘I hope I’m making myself very clear,’ he said.
‘Oh, I understand,’ Cleaver muttered. ‘But what if I don’t feel like going along with this generous business deal of yours?’
‘I’ll be watching you, Clayton. You’ll find I’m not as forgiving as the loan sharks. I really don’t want to have to shatter Miss Vale’s illusions about you – but if I see you’re not doing what I want, rest assured I’ll be letting her know what a big huckster you are. Not only that, I’ll be on the first flight over there and by the time I’m finished you’ll be hard to tell from roadkill. And I always keep my promises.’
‘Now I suppose you’re going to tell me I have to fork out another ten million to that goddamn Zoe Bradbury,’ Cleaver groaned.
‘No, you can keep that money. I don’t think Zoe Bradbury deserves another cent from you or anyone else.’
There was a long silence on the line as Cleaver mulled over the terms. ‘I don’t have much leeway here, do I?’
‘Not a hair’s breadth.’
Cleaver let out a deep groan of defeat. ‘All right. You win. It’s a deal.’
As Ben was putting the phone away, Alex appeared. She was wearing black trousers and a burgundy leather jacket that brought out the colour of her hair. She couldn’t stop smiling when she saw him. She ran across the steps and hugged him tightly. ‘I never thought I’d see you again.’
They embraced for a moment, then parted.
‘Frank got you out?’ Ben said.
She nodded. ‘Zoe and I have been staying at his place. Lying low like you said. She’s still there.’
‘Good. She shouldn’t leave there until this is finally over. Until Slater and Callaghan are dealt with, it isn’t safe for her. Or for you, when Callaghan realises you’re still alive and a witness to everything.’
‘So what now?’
‘Now I’m going to pay a visit to Senator Bud Richmond.’
‘Not without me,’ Alex said.
Chapter Sixty-Five
The sleek Porsche 959 raced along the mountain road, wide tyres gripping the asphalt as it came speeding around the bend.
It screeched to a halt as the driver caught sight of the broken-down Ford that blocked the road ahead, sitting at an angle with the bonnet up.
Bud Richmond climbed out of the car, smiling at the attractive auburn-haired woman he could see bent down under the bonnet, fiddling with the oil dipstick, looking distressed. ‘Can I help, ma’am?’
‘Yes you can, Senator.’ Ben stepped out from behind the car. He aimed a gun at Richmond’s face. Alex grimly slammed the bonnet shut.
‘What’s this about?’ Richmond demanded.
‘It’s about Irving Slater,’ Ben said. ‘Let’s go for a drive.’
Forty minutes later, the senator was sitting ashen-faced in the back of the Ford after listening to Ben’s account of Slater’s plan. Alex had played him back Zoe’s phone recording from the cellar.
‘I can’t believe what I just heard,’ Richmond said in a defeated voice.
‘You were the biggest part of Slater’s plan,’ Ben told him. ‘He’s been using you all along.’
‘Sometimes he acted strangely,’ Richmond said. ‘All those furtive little meetings, out in that cable car. I always wondered.’
‘Now you know.’
Richmond’s fists clenched. ‘I knew he had his ways. I knew he didn’t have a great opinion of me, called me a jackass behind my back. But I never once thought he would stoop to this… this abomination.’ His voice was trembling with anger. ‘Dear Lord, to think I have been allowing murderers into my midst. Agents of Satan.’ He looked up at Ben. ‘I’m just shocked. What can I say? Slater has to be brought to justice.’ Then he turned to Alex. ‘Have you informed your superiors of this yet?’
‘Nobody knows anything about this except us,’ she said.
Richmond bit his lip. ‘Callaghan and Slater must be arrested. Let me make a call.’
Ben shook his head. ‘That isn’t the plan.’
Richmond frowned in confusion. ‘Then what is?’
‘Tell me about the cable car,’ Ben said.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Irving Slater had taken a sudden vacation when he’d heard that the Dome of the Rock was still intact. He’d been skulking incognito in his suite at the Bellagio, slugging bourbon and chewing chocolate, spending hours on the phone to his broker to talk about his options.
Worst case, he could be out of the country within a couple of hours. He’d been scouring maps of South America on the Internet. He liked the idea of Brazil. Those beaches in Rio, overflowing with foxy chicks. He could be happy there, and he could liquidate enough assets to be rich for a long time. It was a tempting escape route, if the shit hit the fan.
But as time had passed, his initial panic had subsided a little. Nothing terrible had happened. Nothing on the news. He’d been able to put his thoughts in order. OK, Hope was still alive – the trap had failed. But so what? Hope had nothing solid on him. There was nobody left alive who’d seen him at the Montana facility. There was no evidence linking him to Callaghan, and Callaghan had covered his own tracks well. Hope might come back from Jerusalem and go to Murdoch with accusations that he’d been set up, but he couldn’t prove shit. The only real witnesses were the two bitches in Callaghan’s basement. And they wouldn’t be doing much talking to anybody. He was pretty much home and dry.
Late the next morning, he’d got a call. It was Richmond. The senator sounded agitated but happy. He said he’d had a communique from the White House. He’d been invited to a dinner to discuss religious policy in the Middle East. It was wonderful news. He needed Slater to come home from vacation right now to help him with his speech.
‘Meet me at the ski chalet,’ Richmond said. ‘This evening, eight o’clock.’
Slater glanced at the time, frowning. ‘I can just about make it if I leave now. But why the ski chalet?’
‘We had a tip-off,’ Richmond said. ‘The house is bugged. My office, the whole place. We’re dealing with it, but in the meantime we need to talk somewhere private.’
Slater was stunned by the development. Maybe this was a break. Maybe he could somehow use this to claw his way back to making his plan work after all. As he paced and drank, he fumed about the bugs. Who the fuck could have planted them? But it didn’t matter now.
After a rushed flight and a flustered limo ride, Slater finally made it back to Richmond’s mountain residence. He was hot, and needed a shower. His ass ached from hours of travel.
The old ski chalet was across the mountain valley from the house, only accessible by cable car. Slater trotted up the steps leading up to the wooden control room that adjoined the house. He stepped inside the docked cable
