Nelson DeMille - Night Fall

At 4:45, I imagined Dom Fanelli in Federal custody, Kate in a car with Ted Nash, and a call from Nash informing me that he’d trade Kate for Jill and the videotape. I could almost hear his voice saying, “John, Kate and I are going to spend some quality time in a safe house until you give up Mrs. Winslow and her home movie.”

I felt, for the first time in many years, a real fear gripping me by the throat.

I thought about my response to a ransom demand from Ted Nash, knowing that this bastard didn’t play by any rules. His endgame was to go for a total shutout-he wanted Jill, the videotape, Kate, and me. So, no matter how I responded to his demands, he’d cheat and lie, and there would be no exchange of prisoners; there would be only a massacre. Therefore, my only possible response to him would be “Fuck you.”

I looked at Jill. I wasn’t giving her up to Ted Nash.

I thought of Kate. She’d understand.

Jill said to me, “You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

She picked up her cell phone and said, “I’m calling Detective Fanelli.”

“No.” I said, “I’ll call.” I turned on my cell phone and waited for a message beep, but there was none. I shut off the cell phone and reached for the room phone just as it rang. I let it ring twice, then answered, “Corey.”

Dom Fanelli said, “Up his ass.”

“Dom-”

“What a total prick. How do you know this asshole? Here’s Kate.”

My heart started beating again, and Kate said, “John. I’m all right. But what a scene that was. Ted-”

“Where are you now?”

“In the back of a police car with Dom.”

I looked at Jill and gave her a thumbs-up, and she smiled.

Kate said, “John, Ted Nash is alive . He was at the airport-”

“Yeah. I know. But I’ve got some good news, too.”

“Why do you think it’s bad news that he’s alive? What the hell is going on?”

“Did Dom tell you anything?” I asked.

“No, but I was able to figure out some of it. Dom says he doesn’t know anything except that he was told by you to pick me up and take me to where you are. Why aren’t you here? What is going on?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“You’ll see when you get here. It’s best if we don’t talk over the phone.” I said, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I didn’t expect quite this kind of reception. What the hell was Ted-?”

“It’s really a long story for later.”

“Did you find-?”

“Later.”

“Are you all right?”

“I am. But the situation is a little dicey.”

“Which must mean it’s critical. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m all right. You’re all right. Put Dom back on. See you shortly.” I said, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Fanelli came back on the line and said, “How do you work with these people? They have no respect for the law or the police-”

“Dom, are you being followed?”

“We are. But I called in some more PDs, and in a few minutes these assholes behind us are going to be pulled over for failing to signal.”

“Good work. I owe you one.”

“One? You owe me mucho. Hey, Kate looks great. Nice tan. Did you get a lot of exercise there? You lost some weight. I mean, you always looked great, but I can see you lost weight.”

I realized, of course, he was talking to her, not me. I asked him, “What kind of force did they turn out?”

“Huh? Oh, just four guys, but they made enough noise for forty. One guy keeps yelling, ‘FBI! FBI! You’re interfering with blah, blah, blah!’ And I’m going, like, ‘Police! Police! Step aside. Get back!’ and all that. I had these two Port Authority cops, and they turned it around with the jurisdiction thing.” He added, “It was fun, but it got a little hairy for a while. Kate completely turned it around by saying, ‘Unless you have a Federal arrest warrant for me, or a Federal subpoena, I demand — ’ get it? ‘Demand that you let me pass.’ Well, by now, we’ve got Customs people there, and some airport security cops, and who the fuck-sorry-who knows who else? So, then-”

“Okay. I get it. How many cars are behind you?”

He didn’t reply for a few seconds, then said, “There were two… I don’t see any now. You gotta signal when you change lanes. Sometimes people think they signal, but-”

“Okay. What’s your ETA?”

“I don’t know. Rush hour… rookie driver behind the wheel-”

I heard a male voice say, “Rookie? Who’s a rookie? You wanna drive?”

I heard some bantering in the car from three males, who had perfected the art of the insult, and I could picture Kate rolling her eyes. I said, “I’ll see you when you get here.” I gave him the suite number again and said, “Tell Kate to shut off her cell phone and beeper, if they’re on.”

“Gotcha. See you later, partner.”

“Thanks, again.” I hung up.

Jill came over to me and gave me a big hug. She said, “You must be so relieved.”

I returned the hug and said, “One less thing to worry about.”

She took my hands and looked at me. She said, “I understand what could have happened if it didn’t go well at the airport.”

I didn’t reply.

She said, “I’m going to leave you alone so you can greet your wife without company.”

“No. Stay. I want you to meet Dom Fanelli-”

“Some other time. Meanwhile, you need one drink.”

She went into her bedroom.

I contemplated the bar for a few seconds, then got myself a Scotch and carried it to the window.

A low blanket of clouds lay over the city, but the TV weatherman had predicted brilliant sunshine for tomorrow morning.

It was odd, I thought, that what had started out as a half day off from work in July to accompany my wife to a memorial service had turned into this.

Kate always had an inkling of where this would go, but I had been clueless. Almost clueless.

And for Jill Winslow and Bud Mitchell, what had started out as a tryst on the beach had become a classic case of doing something wrong in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And now, a little over five years later, all these paths had converged, and they’d meet tomorrow at the crossroads of the Windows on the World.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

The doorbell rang

I peeked through the peephole and saw Kate standing there looking, I thought, tense. I opened the door, and she broke into a big grin. She tossed her overnight bag into the foyer, then threw her arms around me. We kissed, hugged, and said all sorts of stupid things.

After about a minute of this, I picked her up off her feet and carried her into the living room.

She looked around the room and asked me, “Did you hit the lottery while I was away?”

“Actually, I did.”

We went back to the kissing and hugging and old Willie Peter was trying to break out of the teepee.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me down on the couch on top of her. Probably it was a good thing that Jill was in her room.

After a few minutes of couch frolic, I said, “You must need a drink.”

“No. I want you to make love to me. Right here. Remember the first time we did it on my couch?” She began unbuttoning her blouse.

I said, “Hold on… I’m sharing this suite.”

She raised her head and looked around. “With who?”

I said, “That’s my bedroom there. And that door leads to another bedroom.”

“Oh…” She sat up, and I stood. She buttoned her blouse and asked, “Whose bedroom is that?”