that why you came to get me tonight?”
He bared his teeth again in a violent parody of a smile. “You left your scarf at the Alma offices, Vic. I saw you unwrap it when Eileen gave it to you the day we met. You don’t remember it but I do because I thought you were the hottest little number I’d ever laid eyes on. I do want my bracelet back, but I’m not in any hurry.”
“That’s good,” I said calmly, even though my cheeks burned at the idea of being a hot number. “I left it in my apartment. You’re going to need a wrecking crew to get in there. You don’t get it, do you? Not even being a cop can cover your tracks for you when you’ve created this much carnage. Not even Bobby will do it. It’ll break his heart, but he’ll let you go.”
Michael hit me across my mouth with the back of his hand. “You need to learn a few lessons, Vic, and one of them is to shut up when I tell you to.”
It stung a little but didn’t hurt. “I don’t have a long enough lifeline right now to learn new tricks, Mickey, and even if I did, yours just purely make me throw up.”
Michael stopped in the middle of the gangway and shoved me against the wall. “I told you to shut up, Vic. Do you want me to break your jaw to make you do it?”
I looked at him steadily, marveling that I’d ever found those dark angry eyes engaging. “Of course I don’t, Michael. But I have to wonder if beating me while I’m defenseless would make you feel powerful or ashamed?”
He held my shoulder with his left hand and tried to slam his right into my face. As he came forward I kicked him as hard as I could in the kneecap, hard enough to break it. He gave a sharp cry and dropped my shoulder.
I ran down the ramp, terribly hampered by my bound hands. Above me I heard Furey crying out, and then Ernie Wunsch calling down asking what the fuck was going on. I darted into the shadowy interior, tumbling over boards in the dark. I was making too big a racket-no one would have any trouble finding me.
I stopped running and moved cautiously forward until I came to a big pillar, steel with concrete poured around it. I sidled around behind it and stood there trying not to breathe out loud, scrabbling behind me trying to reach my gun. My arms were crossed in their cuffs, though, and I couldn’t reach far enough around.
A powerful flashlight stuck fingers out on the floor around me. I didn’t move.
“Let’s not play hide-and-seek here
I still didn’t move. A couple of minutes later I could hear Elena’s breathless voice, squeaky with fear.
“What are you doing? You’re hurting me. There’s no need to hold me so hard. I don’t know how you were brought up, but in my day a true gentleman did not squeeze a lady’s arm hard enough to bruise it.”
Good old Elena. Maybe I’d find a happy death, laughing at her incongruous scolding.
“We have your aunt here, Warshawski.” It was Ron Grasso speaking now. “Call out to your niece, Auntie.”
He did something to make her scream. I flinched at the noise.
“Louder, Auntie.”
She screamed again, a cry of genuine pain. “Vicki! They’re hurting me!”
“We just broke a finger, Warshawski. We’ll break her bones one by one until you decide you’ve had enough.”
I swallowed bile and stepped out from behind my pillar. “Okay, he-men. I’ve had enough.”
“That’s a good girl, Vic,” Ernie said, moving toward me. “I always told Mickey there was a way to manage you if he just looked for it… Keep the light on her, Ronnie. Little bitch maybe broke Mickey’s knee. I don’t want her clawing at me.”
He came up to me and took my arm. “Now don’t you try anything, Vic, because Ron there will just start breaking your auntie’s fingers again if you do.”
“Vicki?” Elena quavered. “You’re not mad at poor old Elena, are you?”
I held out my cuffed hands to her. “Of course I’m not mad at you, sweetie. You did the best you could. You were very smart and brave to hide so long.”
What good would it have done to chew her out for not sharing the whole story with me from the beginning-or at least from her bed at Michael Reese.
“They hurt me, Vicki, they broke my little finger. I didn’t mean to scream and make them find you, but I couldn’t help it.” Her face was in shadow but I sensed the tears beginning to fall.
“No, no, sweetie, I know you couldn’t.” I patted the thin bones in her hands. They were fragile, exposed, as easy to break as sticks of china.
Behind Ron and Elena stood August Cray, the night project manager. “What happened to your security guard? He not in on the kill?” I asked. “And I don’t see dear little Star, either. She and I had such a nice chat this afternoon.”
Nobody answered me. “We’re just going to go for a ride, Vic,” Ron said. “You take it easy. There are three of us here and we can make it mighty unpleasant for both of you if you try any of your cute tricks on us.”
“Just three of you? What happened to Furey? Did I really get his kneecap? A shot like that takes a lot of practice.” I was amazed to hear myself sounding as chipper as a cheerleader. “You know, if he’s gone to the hospital, you’ve got a little problem-if my body’s discovered with his handcuffs on, I mean-it’s going to be awkward for the poor boy to explain that one away.”
“You’re not the only one around here with a brain, Warshawski, so don’t get your underwear in a bundle over that one.” Ernie’s sharper voice came from behind me. “Mickey won’t leave us holding the bag.”
“That’s right,” I said approvingly. “You’re all pals and pals gotta stick together, even unto death, at least the death of a whole lot of innocent bystanders.”
“You’re no little innocent, Vic, so don’t get me shedding tears for you.”
We got to the hoist and they bundled us in. Cray operated the controls while Ron and Ernie hovered close to Elena and me. I wished futilely that I’d learned enough Polish to do more than greet my grandmother Warshawski at Christmas. I could have told Elena about the gun and gotten her to slip it out of my back before Ron or Ernie found it, but if I muttered the news to her, they’d hear me and disarm me.
As we rode slowly up my terror and helplessness increased. I could imagine our end, tipped over the side of the building, the accidental death of an unstable wino and her eager but unhelpful niece. I stopped trying to goad the boys with my bright chatter and slumped down on my heels against the elevator wall, my head in my hands.
“What’s she up to?” Ron demanded.
“I’m sick,” I groaned. “I’m going to throw up.”
“Be my guest,” Ernie said sardonically.
I made retching noises and collapsed on the floor of the hoist, clutched my stomach with my cuffed hands. Elena fluttered down next to me. “Oh, my poor baby, what would Gabriella say if she could see you? She’d never forgive me. I hope I don’t go to heaven when I die, I couldn’t bear to see the look on her face for knowing I got you into trouble like this. Come to Elena, baby, come here, Vicki, just lean your head against old drunk Elena and maybe you’ll feel a little better.”
I sat up and leaned my head against her shoulder. With my voice muffled against her scrawny neck, I told her about the gun. “Wait until we’re out of here and in the dark, then pull it out and hand it to me.”
Fear had sharpened her wits. She didn’t give a sign of having understood me. “Oh, Vicki, yes, whatever you say, baby, just don’t cry. That’s a good girl.”
Maybe she hadn’t understood me. I wondered if I should try to repeat the message, but the hoist had slid to a stop and Ernie was urging me to my feet. Still clutching my stomach and moaning, I lurched on the way out and stumbled against the concrete.
We were on the open deck at the top of the building. Around us steel beams sent blacker fingers against the dark sky. We were up twenty-five or thirty stories. A stiff wind made the girders sway and froze my marrow. The sight of open air in all directions brought on a genuine attack of nausea. I fell down, almost swooning.
Elena was on me like a shot, weeping over her poor little Vicki. While Ron tried to wrestle her away her bony hands felt behind me for my gun. He pulled her up, but she had the Smith & Wesson loose and dropped it in front of me. The sharp sound of metal on concrete echoed a thousandfold in my ears.
Ernie and Ron didn’t immediately realize what had happened. The only light came from the hoist. I could just make out the glint of the metal and scrabbled madly for the gun. I reached it just as Ernie yanked me to my feet. Fumbling it into my right hand, I slid the safety off with my thumb. I wrenched myself from Ernie and turned and shot him.
Cray was still standing in the hoist. When he heard the shot and saw Ernie fall, he closed the doors and started
