“Charley, Sonnenberg and Domenic Tortora know each
other, don't they?”
“Yes.”
“Jackpot! Are they friends, Charley?”
“No.”
“Do they work together?”
Charley blinked again and hesitated.
“No.”
“But they do know each other. What sort of things do
they talk about? Do you know that?”
Charley smiled with the look of a child who was being
teased by grownups saying silly things.
“They don't talk”
He giggled.
Harrigan made a face at Tanner. “Apparently I've just
asked a very foolish question. They're not friends and they don't talk, but they know each other. So, Sonnenberg and
Tortora are enemies, right, Charley?”
“No
.”
“It can't be both ways, Charley. If Sonnenberg is Baker's
friend, and if
Tortora is trying to hurt Baker, Sonnenberg and
Tortora must be enemies, right, Charley?”
“Noop noop noop.”
He grinned.
“Then,” Harrigan barked, “what the hell does it mean?”
Charley's head snapped up at Harrigan's angry tone and
both fists now pressed against his cheeks. He reddened sud
denly like a scolded infant, and his finger jabbed out toward
Harrigan.
“They'll hurt you,”
the voice shouted.
“Who will? Tortora and Sonnenberg?”
“Edward.”
“Edward who?”
“Edward who sent Hackett.”
Charley's finger tilted
toward the dead man in the bathtub.
“Wait a minute.” Harrigan stiffened. “Who's Hackett?
The stiff?”
“Yes.”
“And someone named Edward sent him?”
“Edward sent him. Edward is going to hurt you and Tan
ner and make Baker sleep. The other man is going to hurt
Sonnenberg, and they know you hurt Hackett and they'll
hurt you worse.’
7
“What other man?”
”I don't know. The white-haired man.”
“How can you know Edward's name and Hackett's name
and not the other man's name?”
“They didn 't say it yet.”
“Jesus Christ,” Harrigan sputtered. “It must be going on
right now. Charley, are they talking now? This minute?”
”Yup.”
“Within a block or two? Yelling distance?”
Charley blinked.
“Did they say any other name?”
“Tom Dugan. They sacrificed him. Biaggi. Biaggi helped
them. Haig. Haig has aluminum.”
“Who is the white-haired man, Charley?” Harrigan's
voice was like flowing ice. He knew the answer. He wanted
it said aloud. He wanted Tanner Burke to hear it.
“He's sir. He's . . . Mis . . . ter.
. .
Peckkkk.”
The ball of
sound seemed to stretch thin this time and then dissolve into
a distant echo. Charley went rigid. There was a stiffening
surge to his body, much like the effect of water slowly wind
ing through a coiled garden hose. One hand reached for the
edge of the bathtub. By the time it touched, there was a pur
pose and tone to the movement where there would have been
only a half-slap before. In the time that Harrigan glanced toward the reaching hand and then returned his attention to
Charley's face, the eyes had become keen and focused. Har
rigan let his own hand fall across the dart pistol on his lap.
“You can relax, Harrigan.” The voice was clear and
strong. Jared Baker pushed slowly to his feet.
4
‘Jared!'' Tanner half-shouted.
Baker met her eyes and looked away. “Not very attrac
tive, is it?” he muttered.
“Attractive? Jared, never mind that, for
Pete's sake. Are
you all right?”
“I'm better. Thank you.” Baker seemed relieved. If she
felt disgust, she didn't show it. “Listen, Tanner,” he said un
comfortably, “about Charley listening in to your private thoughts, there's something you should understand.”
“Can we save all that?” Harrigan waved impatiently. “Baker, do you know what's happened here?”
”I know,” he answered, his eyes still on Tanner. ”I heard
you outside before the door was kicked in. You said you'd
pick up my daughter. Did you mean that?”
“We talk first,” Harrigan said.
Tanner ignored him. ”I meant it. I'll get her myself if I
have to.”
”I have no right to ask you to do that.” This was a new
Jared Baker, Harrigan realized. Much more controlled. Not
the confused and troubled man who locked the bathroom door a short while before.
”I have a right to give something back to you,” she an
swered. “And anyway, Tina is my friend.”
“What you're going to have is the right to get your ass
shot off,” Harrigan spat out. “My turn to read minds. Baker's
thinking maybe he shouldn't try for his daughter himself be
cause he's going to be drawing shooters everyplace he goes.
He figures if he can draw them off someplace else, Miss
Burke can waltz in and take Tina bye-bye. Forget it, Baker.
If I figured that's why you're here, so did the shooters. That
place will be covered like a rug if it isn't already.”
“Can you get Tanner in and out?”
”I imagine,” he answered. “What'll it buy me?”
“Information.”
“Shit!” Harrigan shot back. “What are you going to tell
me? That Duncan Peck is downstairs ready to blow us all
away? I knew he'd be around sooner or later when I saw his
number on Hackett's pad. Edward figures to be Ed Burleson
out of Special Operations. Peck also figures to be moving in
on your pal Sonnenberg this morning. I know why better
than you do. And most of all, I know you can't count on
Abel the terrible anymore. He's not going to let you retire
him.”
“He'll behave,” Baker answered. “We reached an under
standing.”
“Bullshit!”
Baker ignored the response. And Harrigan softened al
most at once. He could see by Baker's expression that it
was more than wishful thinking. Maybe they did make a
deal.
“What do you want, Harrigan, for delivering Tina?”
“Your enduring friendship,” Harrigan answered. “No
vanishing acts. Go wherever you want but stay in touch. On
my end, I guarantee no one else will know where you are.
Believe that part, Baker. Because you're going to be my life
insurance.”
“What you get is one day at a time. Get my daughter,
meet me afterward, and we'll talk about tomorrow. That's if
you do your job right and no one even looks cross-eyed at
anyone I care about.”
Harrigan saw Tanner Burke brighten a shade at the last
part. One way or another, he thought, he'd keep in touch.
The dealing's not over. “I'll deliver,” he said simply.
“Don't get overconfident, Harrigan. This might be your
kind of business, but I have to tell you, you're all alone.”
“Yeah!” His eyes went cold. ”I got the feeling from
Charley that I just lost my bench.”
“Someone's laying for you down in your car. Can you handle him?”
“I'll handle him. Where do we meet you?”
“The ape house at the zoo. I'm going to call and let Tina know you're coming.”
“No dice. That house probably has more wires than West
ern Union by now.”
“No one will hear me but Tina. Anyway, both she and the
woman caring for her know I'm coming sometime today.
This is just to tell her about you.”
Harrigan's face darkened. He hadn't forgotten about
those silent phone calls. But it hadn't fully sunk in that the daughter could do head tricks too. Now it's Frankenstein's
daughter, he thought disgustedly.
“It's past seven o'clock now,” Harrigan said. “Figure
we'll get back to Central Park near noon. You going to be in
the neighborhood?”
“By then, yes. I'll be nearby.”
“Doing what?”
“Listening. Keeping things simple.”
Harrigan understood. “Speaking of simple”—he pointed to the bathtub—“ordinarily I could make a phone call and
get old Hackett hauled out of here in a laundry cart. Right
now, no one can connect him with Miss Burke except the
night manager, and all he saw was a uniform. I think we take
the uniform with us and stash him a couple of floors down
on the fire stairs.”
Tanner shivered. “Naked?”
“You want modesty or you want to stay off the front
pages?”
“He's right,” Baker told her, wincing at Harrigan's grace-
lessness. “If it helps, keep in mind that his job was killing
people and that he liked doing it.”
Knowing that helped Baker even more. Even Abel didn't kill like that. And it helped him understand Sonnenberg's
view of a world he didn't much like living in. Baker didn't
have much use for it either.
“You'll need a suitcase.” Tanner straightened. “I'll see what's in the other room.”
Harrigan waited until she closed the door behind her be
fore he reached for the knot of the dead man's tie.
“What is he, Baker? Freelance or one of ours?”
“One of yours, Harrigan. Your government isn't mine.”
“Treasury? CIA? What?” Harrigan unlaced Hackett's
shoes.
”I don't know. All I heard was ‘animal house’ from the
street. And while he was creeping down the stairs I heard how glad he was that he got to kill Connor Harrigan. He wanted to make it last if he could. Your people are a class
act, Harrigan.”
“CIA.” Harrigan nodded, tossing the trousers in a heap. “Animal house is a nickname. The CIA is divided into Intel
ligence Services and Special Operations. Staffers and field
agents. The field agents in Special Operations are called the animals. They're not all like this, Baker. Don't get down on
the Fed because there are guys like Hackett and Burleson.
Burleson would have killed Hackett anyway if he found out
t
he guy wrote down Peck's number. And I'm going to have Burleson's ass.”
“You talk like this will be easy.”
”I got a hell of a partner.”
“You haven't paid for that yet.”
Harrigan tossed the jacket to Baker, who folded it and added it to the pile. “When the actress and I move, we can
use some blocking. That what you had in mind?”
“I'll cover you. I'll leave fifteen minutes ahead of you.”
“Now you're talking like it's easy. These guys won't be
patsies.”
“Neither am I, Harrigan. Not anymore.”
“Yeah!” Harrigan nodded. But you're not a prick either,
he thought. Sooner or later you're going to stop to worry
about who deserves to get hurt and who doesn't. And that's
going to get you killed. That, or your two friends inside you
are going to pick the wrong time to stop playing ball. And
what's left wouldn't last ten minutes. “These guys inside
you,” he said. “You're sure you're back in the driver's seat?”
“There isn't any they, Harrigan. They're me. Just like
yours are you.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You have your own Abel and Charley.”
“Like hell I do.” Harrigan stood up, bunching Hackett's blue shirt into a ball. He stared expectantly at Baker.
“Forget it.”
“You prove it.”
Baker took a long breath and let it sigh out slowly. Tell him,
he thought. Tell him you heard all the Frankenstein and Wolf
man wisecracks and tell him he doesn't have a goddamned
thing to be smug about. Tell this man who thinks you're a freak
what's sitting inside him and everyone else right now. ”I was standing at the mirror before. You remember?”