“Never heard of him.”
“Typical.”
“What happened?” Lou says.
“What are they reporting?”
“Three people dead, twenty-three wounded.”
“Wounded?”
“Stampede. Apparently a bomb went off. People freaked.”
“Anyone seriously injured?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“Thank God for that. Hang on a sec.”
The co-pilot turns to me and motions me to end the call.
“We’re taking off,” I say. “Call you later.”
When we pass 20,000 feet, I put the battery back in my cell phone and see that Callie has called me twice, and Darwin has called five times. My phone buzzes. I check the caller ID. Make that six times.
“Where are you?” he snaps.
“Airborn.”
“You never made contact with the limo driver. Why?”
“He knew them.”
He pauses. “How do you know?”
“Several reasons. In addition to those, he had a gun in his pocket. I don’t suppose you know anything about that, do you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Really?”
“He was one of ours.”
“Ours?”
Uh oh.
I ask, “Have you heard from him?”
“No, asshole. You killed him, remember?”
“Who told you?”
“Marshalls service. What do you mean he knew them?”
“When he recognized one of them, he put his right hand in his pocket, where his gun was. Then he raised the sign with his left hand.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“You weren’t there. Trust me, he knew them.”
He pauses.
“I thought he might. That’s why we put him there.”
“Excuse me?”
“I wanted to see how you’d handle it. Figured you’d kill him if he deserved to die.”
“You had me assassinate one of our guys?”
“I didn’t make you pull the trigger. Why did you, by the way? And how did you know M was dressed like a woman?”
“The driver knew the accomplice, but not M. The accomplice knew M and the driver. I figured if I shot the driver suddenly, without sound or warning, the accomplice would instinctively turn to look at M. I was right. He looked directly at the woman in front of me. Couldn’t take his eyes off her. Looked nowhere else. It had to be M.”
“So you shot her.”
“Him.”
“What if you’d been wrong?”
“I’d feel terrible.”
“But you’d get over it.”
“I never get over it. But I move along.”
Darwin pauses a long time before speaking. At no time does he thank me for a job well done, or congratulate me, or say anything to make me feel wanted, needed, or appreciated. Doesn’t even give me the reassurance he isn’t plotting to kill me. When he speaks, he’s curt.
“I’ll call you when I need you,” he says.
