William Bayer - Mirror Maze

"What about payments to Cubans?"

"Three months ago there was a two-hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar transfer to a numbered account in Panama. The day after you got back from Cuba, there was, get this, a million dollars transferred to the same account."

"Fonseca's account?" -Probably, but we'll have a hell of a time proving it," Aaron said.

"There were also a couple of smaller transfers of twenty-five thousand dollars to the Caymans."

"Could've been a finder's fee paid to Villavicencio."

"What'd you want us to do now?" Ray asked.

"You and Aaron check the flight manifests to the Caymans, direct and indirect routes. Look for people who went in and out the same day.

When you get matches, run them down." Janek paused. "You know what I like about this? If we can connect Mendoza to El Paso, he'll have to go to Texas for trial. Murder-for-hire is a capital crime down there.

They use lethal injection."

They all exchanged looks.

"What about me?" Sue asked.

"You're going on a special mission."

"Nice place, I hope?"

"Sarasota. You're going to check out an honored member of our tribe, the widow of a killed-in-action cop."

The following morning he received a call from Netti:

"Mixed news. First the good stuff. Your ex was badly shook when she heard about our dossier. She's willing to give up alimony. We're negotiating a one-year phase-out." Janek smiled. "Great!"

"Bad news is that Carlson doesn't want to make a private settlement with Gelsey."

Shit! "What'd you offer him?"

"Restitution, damages, a written apology. He didn't want any of it. He wants to see her in jail." "Have you told her yet?"

"She's taking it fairly well. I don't know, Frank. It's a weird situation. Carlson says she tried to kill him. He's talking about upgrading the charge to attempted murder."

"Maybe if he saw her, face-to-face, he'd melt a little bit.

"Can't take a chance. If she shows up for a meeting, he could call a cop. He might even call you."

"Want me to talk to him?"

"If you take her side, you could make a lot of trouble for yourself."

"What're you going to do?"

"Keep upping my offer. But the way I read him, he won't be interested.

Basically, he wants her head."

Ray found Collizzi's name on flights in and out of the Caymans, both before and after the El Paso copycat job: "Can't believe it, Frank. He used his own name, flew direct via Miami."

"He got a hundred thousand," Janek said. "There ought to be some sign of it. Fly out to Houston, check out his life-style, then go down to El Paso and talk to the cops handling the case."

"The pieces are starting to fit, aren't they?"

Janek nodded. Later he marveled at how quickly the case was coming together-as if Mendoza were a puzzle left incomplete nine years before, each hole still receptive to the dust-covered pieces still lying beside it on the floor.

Sue called from Sarasota. She liked the city, liked the people, liked her motel, which was on the beach. She'd even found a lesbian bar.

"Actually, it's a gay bar," she explained. "They tolerate women."

"Glad to hear you're having fun," Janek said. "What about Janet Clury?"

She lives in a nice one-story house, three-hundred-thousand-dollar job on a finger. That's what they call a man-made spit of land." Sue paused.

"Frankly, I find it a little phallic."

"Is she living with someone?"

"Not now, though she's been known to have a boyfriend or two. She's comfortably set up. Besides the house she's got a BMW and a good job as a hospital administrator. She's nice-looking, expensive blond dye-job, not too flashy, cut at a good salon. Every afternoon after work she goes to a local mall, works out at a health club, shops at a health food store, then goes home. So far no visitors. Last two nights she's stayed in watching TV. I've seen the screen flickering from the street."

"Watch her a couple more days," Janek said. "If nothing happens, we'll try and stir things up."

Timmy called. He was drunk. He woke Janek up.

"It's your old partner," he announced. "Who set me up? I gotta know."

"Forget it, Timmy. I'm going back to sleep."

"You don't fuckin' care, do you, Frank?"

"Sure, I care."

"Not about me."

"Go to AA. Get off the sauce. Then maybe we can have decent conversation."

"That's all you gotta say?"

"You know the deal: You tell me why Dakin wanted to your ass, I'll tell you who set up Metaxas."

Janek hung up. The phone rang again. He unplugged it for the night.

It took him hours to get back to sleep. He kept having visions of Timmy staggering toward him down a corridor of mirrors.

He rented a car, drove out to Newark. Gelsey greeted him from the top of the exterior stairs.

"Looks like it's going to rain," she said.

"I heard it on the news. That's why I came out."

When they were inside and he realized he'd interrupted her painting, he urged her to go back to work. She picked up her brushes, turned to her canvas, while he brought her up to date on Dietz. Diana was still in jail, he told her. Thatcher hadn't been able to get her bail.

"What we want to do is soften her up, then let her plead to something less than extortion and attempted murder in return for testimony against Kane. So far she's holding out, but I know she'll break. A woman like that can't take jail."

"I almost feel sorry for her," Gelsey said. "She really did love Kim."

"Whenever you start feeling that way," Janek said, "just remember what she did to Kirstin."

Gelsey dabbed at her canvas. Then she stopped and shook her head.

"Netti can't seem to work things out with Carlson." "I heard," he said.

"Give it time."

She turned to him. "I'm going to have to go to jail, too, aren't I?"

"I don't know. But soon you're going to have to turn yourself in. You have a good lawyer. You helped us solve a major case. Nine judges out of ten'll suspend your sentence. I'm pretty sure you'll get off."

"I might not."

"There's always a ' not,' Gelsey. You can't think about that."

"Jail would kill me."

"It won't. You're a strong person." But he didn't like thinking about her serving hard time.

Later, after it started to rain, she asked if she could sit beside him on the couch. Then, when she rested her head against his shoulder, he gently drew her closer with his arm.

She turned to him: "You have an idea about the Minotaur.

"Did I say that?" The rain was falling steadily, streaking the windows, washing the skylight.

"I just have a feeling."

"I'm not a shrink," he said.

"I know. You're a detective."

"If it was in your head, the way Dr. Zimmerman-"

"He was wrong. It wasn't just in my head." She paused.

I think you know that, too."

The rain began to fall hard, exploding like thousands of little firecrackers against the metal roof. Gelsey started to shake. He held her tighter. Was the sound getting to her, or was it memories of loneliness? He imagined how she must have felt when it rained, alone in her strange house, the water beating on the tin, the maze with its mysteries and terrors beckoning from below.

"Why don't we go down and take a look?" he said finally. "Maybe we'll find something. It's worth a shot."

" I'm scared. "

"Of the maze?" "Not the maze," she said. "The Minotaur. I'm afraid of what he might turn out to be."

When they were on the catwalks and the lights were on, he walked with her above the places where the ceilings were opaque.

"What's down there?" he asked as they stood above a blocked-off portion.

"Storage area." "What about there?" he asked, pointing to another.

She looked down. "That's just some dead space between three mirrors."

"Are you sure?" She thought a moment. "Yes, that's where the corridor turns back on itself."