Dan Simmons - Hard Freeze

"You were on surveillance then," said Hansen. "Where was Kurtz?"

"He slipped out of sight last night and this morning," said Brubaker. "We picked up his tail out in Cheektowaga this morning. We were going to check out Kurtz's secretary's house there, but we saw Kurtz driving down Union…" He paused.

"Near the Airport Sheraton," said Hansen.

Myers nodded. "Not that far away."

"It looks like we're back on Kurtz surveillance," said Brubaker.

Hansen shook his head. "This is more important than that This concert violinist, Frears, is a very important man. This could be a potential kidnapping situation."

Myers frowned. "You mean SWAT, FBI, all that shit? Sorry, Captain, but you know what I mean."

Hansen went around his desk and sat in his leather executive chair. "Right now it's just you two, me, and a hunch. Just because you saw Frears go into the Blues Franklin at the same time Joe Kurtz was there doesn't mean there was a connection. Did either of you ever see Kurtz and Frears together during your surveillance?"

The two detectives shook their heads.

"So I want some careful surveillance done. Starting this afternoon. Round the clock."

"How can we do that?" said Brubaker, adding a "sir."

"Solo work," said Hansen.

"Twelve-hour shifts?" whined Myers. "Alone? This Kurtz bastard is dangerous."

"I'll pitch in," said Hansen. "We'll work out a schedule. And we're not talking weeks here, just a day or two. If Kurtz has something to do with Frears's disappearance, we'll know soon enough. Fred, you take the first shift. Check out that secretary's house in Cheektowaga. Tommy, you'll spend the next few hours looking for Kurtz at his home, office, and so forth. Fred, you stay here a minute. I want to talk to you."

Myers and Brubaker glanced at each other before Myers went out, closing the door behind him. Captain Millworth had never called either of them by his first name before.

Brubaker stood by the desk and waited.

"Internal Affairs was checking in with me about you last week," said Hansen.

Brubaker lifted a toothpick to his mouth, but said nothing.

"Granger and his boys think you have some connections with the Farinos," said Hansen, staring the other man in the eye. "They think you're on Little Skag's payroll, picking up where your pal Hathaway left off last November."

Brubaker's eyes showed nothing. He shifted the toothpick back and forth with his tongue.

Hansen moved some paperwork on his desk. "I'm mentioning this because I think you'll need someone to cover your back, Fred. Someone to let you know who's sniffing around and when. I could do that."

Brubaker removed the toothpick, looked at it, and set it in his pocket. "Why would you do that, Captain?"

"Because I need your best work and discretion for this project, Brubaker. You scratch my back and I'll protect yours."

Brubaker stood there, staring, obviously trying to understand this deal.

"That's all," said Hansen. "Go hunt for Kurtz. Relieve Tommy on stakeout in eight hours. Call me on my cell if anything comes up. But tell Myers… you two do nothing but observe without my permission. Understand? Nothing . You see Kurtz buggering the Mayor's son on Main Street at high noon, call me before you do anything. Capische ?"

"Yeah."

Hansen nodded toward the door and Brubaker went out.

The homicide captain swiveled his chair and spent several minutes looking out at the gray pile of the old courthouse across the street. This was all going too far, too fast. It had to be resolved, but even if something happened to Detectives Brubaker and Myers—and anything could happen to a plainclothes officer when dealing with someone like Kurtz—there would still be too many loose ends around afterward.

Hansen sighed. He had enjoyed being a homicide detective. Heck, he was good at it. And he liked his wife Donna and stepson Jason. This persona had only lasted fourteen months and James B. Hansen had thought it might go another year or two, perhaps longer.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Thy will be done. Lord. Thy will be done . Hansen opened his eyes and used his private line to dial the number of a certain dentist in Cleveland. It was time for Robert Gaines Millworth's dental records to be made ready.

"Are you a member of the immediate family?" asked the nurse.

"I'm Donald Rafferty's brother," said Kurtz. He'd met Arlene's sister-in-law Gail and knew that she was a surgical nurse on the ninth floor, but he didn't want her to see him here.

The reception nurse grunted and glanced at one of the computer screens at her station. "Mr. Rafferty's in six-twenty-three. He was treated for a mild concussion and a broken wrist and is sleeping right now. The doctor who treated him, Dr. Singh, will be available in about twenty minutes if you want to talk to him."

"What about the girl?" said Kurtz.

"Girl?"

"Rachel… Rafferty. She was in the car with Donald. I understand she suffered more serious injuries."

The nurse frowned and tapped the keys again. "Yes. She's out of surgery."

"Can I see her?"

"Oh, no… the surgery went on for almost five hours. The girl will be in the ICU recovery for several hours."

"But the surgery went all right? She'll be all right?"

"You'd have to speak to the doctor."

"Dr. Singh?"

"No, no." The nurse frowned more deeply, her important time at the desk obviously being eaten up here on inconsequentials, and tapped more keys. "Dr. Fremont and Dr. Wiley were the primary surgeons."

"Two surgeons?"

"I just said that."

"Can I talk to them?"

The nurse rolled her eyes and played with the keyboard again. "Dr. Fremont has left the hospital and Dr. Wiley will be in surgery until after five o'clock."

"Where's the ICU?"

"You won't be allowed in there, Mr… ah… Rafferty."

Kurtz leaned over close enough that the nurse had to turn away from the computer screen and look into his eyes. "Where is it?"

She told him.

Kurtz, Angelina, and Marco had left the Gonzaga compound in a hurry, Angelina explaining to an obviously irritated Emilio that something important had come up for her and that they would reschedule the luncheon. Arnie and Mickey Kee had driven the silent trio back to Marina Towers in the armored limo. They had taken the elevator straight to the penthouse before talking.

"What the hell is going on, Kurtz?" Angelina was pale with anger and fighting a backwash of adrenaline.

"I need a car."

"I'll take you back to the health club where you parked your—"

Kurtz shook his head. "I need a car now ."

Angelina hesitated for a second. Acquiescing to Kurtz now would change their relationship—whatever that was at the moment—forever. She looked at his face and then reached into her purse and tossed him a set of keys. "My silver Porsche Boxster, parked closest to the elevator in the garage."

Kurtz nodded and turned toward the elevator.

"What about him?" Angelina had brought out her.45 Compact Witness and was aiming it at Marco.

"He's not stupid," said Kurtz. "You can still use him. Offer him handcuffs in the John the way you offered Leo."

Angelina looked at Marco. "Sure. Why not?" said the big bodyguard. "Beats the alternative."

"All right," said Angelina. "What about…" She flicked her head toward the big walk-in freezer in the utility room off the kitchen.

"Tonight," said Kurtz. "I'll be back."

"This is not good," said Angelina, but Kurtz had already stepped into the elevator and closed the door.

Kurtz stepped out of the elevator and saw immediately how the Intensive Care Unit was set up with a nurses' station at the locus of a circle of single rooms with clear glass walls. The three nurses at the central station watched their own readouts but could look into any of the rooms and see the patients and their computer screens. An older nurse with a kind face looked up as Kurtz approached. "Can I help you, sir?"