Omega Dog (26 page)

To Beth, Venn said, ‘Get him. No time for this.’

He started the car and reversed it out. Lomax came limping back on Beth’s arm and they got in.

‘He was a good man,’ Lomax said, simply.

‘And a crazy man,’ said Venn.

He took a different route, heading on beyond the cabin before turning and winding down through the forest, northward instead of back toward the interstate. They didn’t need to run into a fresh posse of mobsters. Or a bunch of cops coming to see what all the noise was about.

Lomax had a memory stick with the final paper he and Stavros had written up, laying out the case for the link between C-77 and cancer. As Venn drove, Beth and Lomax discussed the most effective ways to make the data public as quickly as possible.

‘Your suggestion earlier of Canada was a good one, Mr Venn,’ said Lomax. ‘Assuming we can make it to, and across, the border safely.’

Venn said nothing.

A memory had surfaced in his mind, like a body dredged up from a river.

Again, he thought of Corcoran’s last words to him.

Call me the moment you locate Lomax. Don’t wait. I’ll see to it that you and he are brought back safely from wherever you are.

Don’t wait...

Why, exactly, had Corcoran been so insistent on immediately calling him? Was he worried Venn might talk to the professor, hear his side of the story, and let him go? But that could happen even after he’d called Corcoran.

Unless...

Venn stared down into the footwell. At his right leg.

The one with the electronic tag on it.

‘Oh my God,’ he muttered.

Beth, beside him, turned her head.

‘What is it?’

Venn hit the brakes.

With the engine still running, he said, ‘Beth, I need you to drive.’

‘Okay, but why?’

‘Take Lomax, take the car, and run. Just lose yourselves.’ He got out.

Beth got out too. So did Lomax, stumbling a little.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Beth.

‘You have to stay away from me,’ Venn said, backing down the road.

There was a field alongside. If he took off across it, he could probably make his way to some town or other, where he could get a car.

And the walk would give him time to try and figure out what the hell he was going to do.

Beth advanced, her face knotted in concern. ‘Venn, what is it? What’s wrong?’

Venn took a deep breath.

‘I wasn’t just supposed to find you and bring you in,’ he said to Lomax. ‘I was supposed to kill you. Without knowing it.’

They stared at him uncomprehendingly.

Venn pulled up the leg of his jeans.

‘This tag,’ he said. ‘It isn’t just a tag. It’s a remote-controlled bomb. Corcoran’s going to set it off as soon as he knows I have you.’

––––––––

I
t made sense now.

Why the mob guys hadn’t attacked earlier, but instead had demanded that Venn reveal himself and the other occupants of the cabin.

Corcoran had needed to be certain Lomax was in there. Otherwise Venn would be killed, and with him would die any leads to Lomax’s whereabouts.

Venn stood in the field, fifty yards from the BMW where Beth and Lomax huddled, staring at him.

He didn’t know quite what he was going to do. But he had to make contact with Corcoran urgently.

Just in case Corcoran decided Venn was probably with Lomax, and decided to press the button.

Venn hit the dial key on the phone.

It didn’t finish ringing once before it was answered.

‘Venn. That you?’

‘Yeah, Corcoran. It’s me.’

‘Thank God you’re alive,’ the man rumbled in his incongruous bass. ‘What’s happening? I haven’t heard from you since you left here.’

‘I don’t have Professor Lomax with me.’

‘Really? Then why are you –’

‘I’ve found him. But he’s not with me.’

‘I don’t understand.’

Quietly, Venn said: ‘I know about the bomb, Corcoran.’

‘What?’

‘The bomb around my leg. I’ve figured it out. That’s why Lomax is in a safe place. In case you decide in a fit of pique to blow me up, he’ll escape.’

Venn held his breath. This was a moment when Corcoran really might press the button. He hoped the fifty yards’ distance between him and Beth and Lomax would be enough to protect them. Without thinking, he strode a few paces farther into the field.

Corcoran was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, ‘Congratulations, Joe. For finding the professor, and for working this all out. I was sure you’d succeed in the former. The latter, I didn’t expect.’

‘You’ll realize I also know
why
you want Lomax dead.’

At the other end of the line, Corcoran sighed. ‘Get real, Joe. This is the world we live in. It’s a mean, tough place. You of all people should know that, given the things you’ve seen and done in your life. Sometimes the few must be sacrificed for the sake of the many. That’s just the way it works.’

Venn gazed back toward Beth and Lomax. He felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Into the phone he said, ‘I’m assuming this bomb goes off if I try to remove it?’

‘Of course.’ Corcoran chuckled. ‘As I said in the beginning, that tag is our insurance. Though you probably didn’t fully grasp my meaning.’

The sensation began to grow, filling Venn’s chest.

He recognized it as
hope
.

Because he had an idea.

‘Corcoran,’ he said. ‘Fair dues to you. You screwed me, royally. But I can’t help admiring how you did it.’

‘Thank you. But –’

‘Hear me out. You have the power to kill me right now. At the push of a button. On the other hand, if you do that, you’ll lose Lomax. So it’s a stalemate.’

Corcoran waited.

Venn went on, ‘So I’m willing to cut a deal. I come in, alone, and you take this goddam bomb off my leg. In return, I tell you where Lomax is.’

Corcoran laughed mirthlessly. ‘As ruses go, that’s a pretty stupid one, Joe. I’m disappointed in you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because if you tell me where to find Lomax and he’s not there, I’ll have you killed. If he is there, I’ll still have you killed. You know that. So you’ve got some trick up your sleeve.’

‘Trick? You hold almost all the cards, Corcoran.’ Venn paused. ‘But you won’t kill me, once I’ve told you where Lomax is.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because there’s something I’ll tell you, something Lomax told me, that will make sure you never kill me once you have him.’

‘No idea what you’re talking about, Joe.’ But Corcoran’s tone was intrigued.

‘Agree to the deal, meet me, and you’ll find out.’

There was a moment’s silence.

Then Corcoran said: ‘All right.’

––––––––

V
enn covered the six-hour trip back to New York City in just five.

He’d ended up stealing a car, a Mustang this time, from a residential street in a nearby town.

‘This is the last one,’ he promised Beth.

It was too risky to go into a rental shop.

They’d traveled together, Beth, Lomax and Venn, in the BMW. Just as far as the nearest town. Speed was of the essence, and Venn didn’t think Corcoran would push the button just yet. In time, he might. But not yet.

He said his goodbyes to the two of them. Lomax he gave a manly handshake.

With Beth, the farewell was more prolonged.

When he’d disentangled himself from her arms, he gazed into her face. It was wet with tears.

‘Venn,’ she said.

He shook his head.

‘I gotta go.’

‘Thank you. For saving my life. For saving the professor’s.’

‘It’s not over yet,’ said Venn. ‘Don’t forget that.’

And with that he drove away.

He’d told them his plan. Lomax had told him he was crazy.

Beth had told him he was suicidal.

His instructions to them still stood.
Lose yourselves. Lie low for now. Don’t try to cross any borders just yet.

He’d given Beth the address of his apartment. Asked her to donate the few items he possessed to a charity of her choice, if he didn’t make it.

Night had fallen by the time Venn saw the lights of Manhattan in the distance. He took a different route in, crossing the Brooklyn Bridge and enjoying the view of a city he’d been starting to feel at home in.

Enjoying the view for the last time, probably.

Corcoran had started issuing him with instructions on the phone –
meet us in this place, at this time
– but Venn had cut him off.

‘My terms,’ he said. ‘Keep your phone on. I’ll call you later. Around eleven tonight. I’ll tell you where to meet me. It’ll be in Manhattan.’

‘You can’t possibly ask me to come on my own, though, Joe.’

‘Of course not. Bring a whole battalion, if you want to. Oh, and Corcoran?’

‘Yes?’

‘You’re able to track my movements with the tag. But if any of your people try to ambush me between now and when I call you, the deal’s off. Arrest me, torture me, waterboard me, whatever. But I’ll never reveal to you where Lomax is.’

And Venn killed the call.

A little over twenty-four hours since he’d last been there, Venn let himself into his fifth-floor apartment.

Everything seemed to be as he’d left it.

He went over to his souvenir wall and took the handcuffs off their nail, and the orthopedic crutch from where it was propped.

He needed to be slick at two maneuvers. He practiced them. One he was familiar with. The other was new.

When he was satisfied he could execute them both rapidly, he took his Beretta and laid it on the table.

He wasn’t going to be needing it.

The night was cool as he made his way up the service stairs and out onto the roof. The East Village buzzed around and below him. Eight floors up, he couldn’t see much of it unless he walked to the very edge of the roof.

Venn took out his phone. Dialed.

Again, Corcoran answered immediately.

‘I’m at my apartment block, as you know,’ said Venn. ‘Meet me up on the roof no later than a half hour from now.’

He didn’t listen for a reply. Just put the phone away and sat down to wait.

––––––––

T
wenty minutes later, a man stepped warily out onto the roof. He wore a Kevlar vest and carried a rifle.

Venn stood up, one arm raised. With the other he leaned on the crutch.

The man said something down the stairs. Quickly more men followed, also Kevlared up and armed. Venn counted a dozen of them in all. They spread out in a concave semicircle around him, keeping their distance.

Finally, Corcoran emerged. In the shadows he looked thinner and more cadaverous than ever, sodium light gleaming off his pale scalp.

‘Hello, Joe,’ he said. ‘What happened to your leg?’

‘Twisted my ankle,’ said Venn, hobbling forward a couple of steps.

The men around Corcoran tensed, their weapons coming up. Venn laughed.

‘Don’t worry, fellas,’ he said. ‘I’m hardly going to beat your boss to death with a walking stick, now, am I?’

‘So what’s the deal, Joe?’ asked Corcoran.

‘Come over here and take this bomb off my leg, first. Then I’ll tell you where Lomax is. And I’ll tell you the other thing. The secret, that will make sure you don’t kill me.’

Corcoran stepped forward hesitantly, but stopped again.

Venn sighed. ‘Bring a couple of your bodyguards with you, if it makes you feel better,’ he said. ‘Yes, I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted. But what would be the point? Your guys would put a bullet straight through my head.’

More confidently, Corcoran advanced, two of his men in lockstep, their guns trained on Venn.

Corcoran produced a small object that looked like a memory stick. He tossed it to Venn, who caught it with the hand that wasn’t holding the crutch.

‘That’s the key,’ said Corcoran. ‘Put it in the slot on the outside of the tracking device.’

‘Okay,’ said Venn. ‘As a measure of my good faith, I’ll unlock it only after I tell you what you want to know.’

Corcoran gave a nod of acknowledgement.

‘Come closer,’ said Venn. ‘I don’t want these goons hearing.’

Wary again, Corcoran advanced till he was an arm’s length away. Behind and to the sides, the two armed men had their rifles fully extended toward Venn’s head.

Venn knew he’d have one shot at this. Only one.

There was
no
room for error.

Cuffing people one-handed is a skill that police departments over the world encourage. There’s an art to it, a pure sleight-of-hand movement that can only be achieved through hours of practice. It involves a flick of the wrist at just the right angle, and with just the right amount of force that the cuff snaps shut as it clasps the wrist.

Venn had the cuffs up the left sleeve of his leather coat, one of them locked round his wrist, the other, free end held between the material of the sleeve and his arm.

He raised his left arm sharply, as if shooting his cuff.

Flick.

The free end of the cuff shot out.

And its jaws hit Corcoran’s skinny right wrist.

And locked shut.

At the same time, Venn’s right arm was moving.

He raised the crutch off the ground. Earlier, in his apartment, he’d prized the rubber stopper off the end, and crimped the metal flat.

He shoved the narrowed end downward, between his right ankle and the metal ring of the tracker/bomb clamped round it.

Venn had practiced the movement earlier till he had it down pat. It was a tight fit, and he felt the skin tearing.

That didn’t matter.

He gripped the shaft of the crutch in his right fist.

The two gunmen tensed, their fingers tightening on the triggers of their rifles.

Venn used his Cop Voice. The one that was loud, and held authority, and carried, even though he wasn’t actually yelling.

‘Back off and listen up.’

It was a critical moment. If they were going to shoot, they’d shoot now.

Venn continued: ‘Corcoran is cuffed to me. I have a bomb strapped to my leg. This crutch is rammed down between the bomb and my ankle. If I exert sideways pressure on the crutch, it’ll be like I’m trying to remove it. The bomb will explode. Your boss, Corcoran, will be killed along with me. So will you two.’ Venn nodded at the two men with the rifles, standing closest to him. ‘Do you understand?’