“I know you did.” That was all she had to say.
I drove to the waterfront and parked behind a seafood restaurant. The southward road turned east, away from the cliff and the ocean, leaving an unpaved driveway to go the last two blocks toward the edge of town. We walked toward it, seeing little more than a tumble of black volcanic rocks ahead. And the tower.
It stood alone, well away from the rest of town and a dozen yards from the edge of the cliff. At the base, I could make out a low, modern house, with huge windows along each wall. And there was a broad asphalt platform where a person could turn a car around. I couldn’t see a driveway connecting it to the town, and I couldn’t see the ruins of the rest of the castle.
“There,” Annalise said. She nodded toward a pair of Dumpsters a few doors down. The driveway to the tower was hidden behind them.
We walked quickly back to the van. I pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward that driveway. We passed three identical burgundy Crown Victorias, but I chalked them up to someone’s desire to keep up with the Joneses.
The gravel road was barred by a long gate. I stopped, climbed out, and cut off the lock with my ghost knife. The gate swung wide open. I drove down the sloping driveway and parked the van at the end. No one was going to be driving out of here unless they tipped the van onto the rocks, which, frankly, was not all that unlikely.
I climbed out and opened Annalise’s door. We walked toward the house. It was much larger up close than it had seemed from the parking lot. The windows were all two stories tall. And none of the shades were drawn.
Something was wrong.
I slipped over to the garage and peeked into the window. Inside was the same elegant black S-class Mercedes I’d seen parked outside the toy factory door. It was a couple of years old. There were no other cars in sight.
“This isn’t right,” I said to Annalise.
She was too short to look in the window and didn’t bother to try. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“There’s a Mercedes in there. Charles Hammer drives a Prius.”
“He’s rich.” She moved toward the front door.
Not right. Not right. Not right. I took the ghost knife from my pocket and threw it, cutting the phone line.
I was about to cut through the locks on the front door when Annalise clumsily turned the knob and pushed. The door swung open. It was unlocked.
We entered. Golden sunlight filled the room. I could see storm clouds down at the edge of the horizon, but the sunlit waters were beautiful.
I shut the door and noticed something hanging beside the hinges. It was a long, double-edged knife. The blade appeared to be made of silver. I suspected it was there on the off chance that the Dubois brothers turned on their masters. I took it off the hook and held it in my off hand.
I followed Annalise toward the far end of the room. There was a flat-screen TV hung on the wall and a very low couch facing it. The coffee table was littered with a dozen empty cans of beef stew, bread crumbs, and torn- open baguette wrappers. It looked as though someone had holed up here, but then why were the shades wide open?
“Through here,” Annalise said. She kicked open a door and entered another long room. I followed her.
This room had plush carpeting. All the shades were drawn, and the air was thick. At the far end, about twenty feet away, was a long wooden desk. Heavy drapes hung just behind it.
The high leather chair behind the desk was turned away from us. It moved slightly. I saw the sleeve of a dark suit jacket on the armrest.
“Charles Hammer the Third,” Annalise said, with the tone of a judge passing sentence. She pulled a ribbon from her vest. “You-“
“That’s not Charles Hammer,” I said. “That’s Able Katz.”
Able Katz swung the chair around. He looked quite smug.
The drapes fluttered, and four men stepped out. They were built like boxers, wore the brown uniforms of a private security force, and held Uzis in their hands.
A door to the side opened, and six more guards rushed into the room. They fanned out along the wall to our left.
“There are two more waiting for you by the front door,” Able said. “So don’t try to run that way.”
I noticed a webcam on the desk, beside the computer. Charlie Three was watching us, but from where? I dropped the silver knife into my pocket.
“Oh, no,” Able said. “Not your pocket, young man. That’s not good enough. You’ll have to toss that weapon away from you, onto the floor. In fact, please dispose of all your weapons that way.” He smirked at us.
Annalise reached up and tugged a fistful of ribbons off her vest.
“Wait,” I whispered to her. “They’re just guys doing a job.”
“Their job is to let a child killer go free.”
“That’s nonsense!” Able barked. “Charles has done nothing of the sort. You two are the ones who have been tearing this town apart.”
I kept my focus on Annalise. “Emmett was a killer, but these guys were hired to protect someone. They aren’t evil.”
She turned to me. “Of course they’re not evil,” she said. “I’m the one who’s evil.”
