Vince said. ‘Maybe we can squeeze a location out of them that we aren’t already aware of.’
‘I’m all for squeezing,’ Rink said. ‘Lead the way, Special Agent.’
I was all for getting moving. The longer we dallied here the easier it was for Hicks to put his plan into motion. But bashing in the door of a skinhead clubhouse wasn’t the way. Anyone who was important to Hicks’ plan would be working from a strict set of instructions, primarily one that demanded total secrecy. Smacking heads would alleviate some of our frustration, but that would be all. Time was too short for that. Maybe even too short for me to make a phone call.
My relationship with Imogen Ballard was one we both recognised as being a shared convenience of comfort and friendship. When we first made love, I had wondered if she thought of her lost lover the way I did of her sister, Kate. But had her memory faded, and when we were together, did she now lose herself totally in me the way I’d reciprocated of late? I knew that I loved her, not with the full-on passion I’d found with Kate, or the lifetime devotion I felt for my ex-wife, Diane, but I loved her nonetheless. The least she deserved was a goodbye.
Rink was already moving for the door, Vince wavering because Walter hadn’t yet given the go-ahead. I took the moment of indecision to feel for the mobile phone in my pocket. Both the phones were there — the one Vince supplied and the pre-paid I’d purchased, and I rolled them between my fingers. If I phoned Imogen then what was I going to say? Hi, babe, sorry but I won’t be coming to Maine next week like we planned, cause I’ll probably be dead by then! Did I just tell her something had come up, a matter of life and death… probably mine and about a million others? But then where did the farewells end? I also wanted to speak with Diane, ask her about Hector and Paris, my dogs. Tell her to give them a hug for me, tell her I still loved her despite what had happened between us. My mother, Anita, and stepdad, Bob, they deserved a goodbye too, as did my brother, John, if I could even find him. Harvey Lucas, Don Griffiths, Millie, Beth and Ryan, the list went on. For such a solitary person I had a lot of people who turned out to mean a great deal to me.
Too many and too little time. The phones fell back into my jacket pocket. The only way I would see any of them again was if I stopped Hicks and his monstrous plan.
I moved to follow Rink. One of Walter’s computers chimed another incoming message, and in the sudden silence it sounded more insistent than the one before. Walter grunted, stepping round the back of his desk, and I watched his face, sensing that the message just might be the lead we all needed.
A shadow of a smile flickered at the corner of Walter’s mouth.
‘They’ve found him?’
‘No,’ Walter said. ‘But we’ve got a location on those who may have supplied him the plutonium. The FBI has them under observation in a titty bar on the Lower East Side.’ Walter tapped keys furiously, replying to the message. ‘I’ve told the team to hold back till you’re finished with them. If we want to know exactly what it is we’re up against we have to find out what they’ve supplied to Hicks. The way I see it: we haven’t time for the normal mode of lawful interrogation.’ Walter allowed his last words to hang between us.
The message rang loud and clear.
Chapter 37
In the packed streets, men and women hailed each other, shaking hands, exchanging hugs, laughing and dancing jigs to their own music. Some held Graggers — noise sticks not unlike soccer rattles — which they shook in time with their laughter, adding to the general air of festivity. Many wore fancy dress, while others were happier with their everyday garb, predominantly black, but joining in the celebratory joy just the same.
It made sense.
The Purim Feast is an important public holiday in the Jewish calendar, marked by the exchange of gifts, feasting and general wine-induced merriment, a time for people to let their hair down and enjoy themselves. Traditionally celebrated in the Hebrew month of Adar, it was a feast to mark the liberation of the Jews from their Persian overlords, when Esther outwitted the wicked Haman and led the Jews to victory over their persecutors.
It was the ideal time for Hicks to cause havoc and add validity to his statement to the government, more so when this year the fifteenth of Adar corresponded with today. Added to that he had found the ideal location. Lincoln Square between West Sixty-Sixth and Seventy-Seventh Streets on Amsterdam Avenue gave him everything he required. Here were the West End and Lincoln Square Synagogues, the Chabad of the West Sixties, all destinations of the Jewish community during this festive time. Nearby were schools, both Juilliard and La Guardia, which could only cause even more terror and confusion.
He thought of Kristallnacht, and how he’d planned his own night of broken glass, and decided that his original plan of detonating a bomb in Times Square would have held nowhere near the significance it would here in the heart of the Jewish community. Here and now was more befitting his character and his message. Forget Crystal Night, this would be his Day of Broken Spirits.
Feeling that there was no time like the present, he thumbed the button on his cell phone. A corresponding cell began to ring in a parked vehicle at the intersection of Sixty-Eighth and Amsterdam, but no one could hear it over the simultaneous percussive roar of flame and debris blossoming between the buildings. Carried on the super- heated wind was Hicks’ statement to the world.
Chapter 38
‘Let’s hope that it’s nothing more serious than a car smash.’
Squinting over Vince’s shoulder, I saw the traffic coming to a shuddering halt and I didn’t think a collision was the reason for this sudden hiccup to the flow of yellow cabs and limousines that normally hurtled along here. ‘Unless there’s an accident on the other carriageway as well, I wouldn’t bank on it, Vince.’
The cars on our left were also coming to a stop, and their drivers were fiddling with the buttons on their car radios, dawning shock and disbelief on their features.
‘Holy crap,’ Rink moaned. ‘You think we’re too late? It’s happened already?’
We were passengers in the back of Vince’s government car, Vince driving. We were on FDR Drive between the twin spans that arched over the East River towards Brooklyn Heights. On Manhattan Bridge the traffic heading on to the island was coming to a standstill and if I bothered to turn my head, I was sure that Brooklyn Bridge would paint a like picture. The only discernible movement was on those lanes of the bridge heading out of the city, and if anything they were speeding up as people realised they should make themselves scarce as rapidly as possible. As with any traffic jam, the air was filled with honking horns and racing engines. People were shouting wordlessly, some in frustration but others in anger or dismay.
I dropped a window and smelled the tang of exhaust fumes, wondered if that was all the poison that the air held. From a distance came the wail of multiple sirens, first responders heading to a scene of catastrophe. ‘Turn the radio on.’
Vince did and the voice of an announcer cut into the middle of an R amp;B track to confirm out worst fears. A bomb had exploded in the Jewish quarter at Lincoln Square. Details were sketchy, but preliminary reports said an improvised explosive device in the trunk of a stationary vehicle had detonated causing chaos and destruction. Casualties were in their dozens, but as of that time fatalities were unconfirmed by the police. The announcer suggested what everyone else must have been considering: that this was a second wave of attack launched by al- Qaeda or another radical-fundamentalist Muslim cell. The police were coordinating an immediate evacuation of the surrounding area, the announcer said in a grave voice, for fear that further devices were timed to explode.
‘That’s the lie they’re telling people? More bombs? They’re evacuating ’cause of the goddamn fallout.’ Rink shifted in his seat as if he wanted to climb out of the car. It wasn’t through fear of being irradiated, but from a need to put an end to this inaction. I knew exactly how he felt.
Cars were jammed to the front and back of us, and to all sides. ‘We’re going to have to find another way up town.’
Vince shook his head, as he started to lay his hand on the horn. ‘You honestly want to be anywhere near
