Nelson DeMille - Night Fall

“Let me make you a drink.” I went to the bar and asked, “Still vodka?”

“Yes. John, what’s happening? Why are you here?”

“Tonic?”

“Yes.” She stood and came over to the bar. I handed her her drink, took mine, and said, “Welcome home.”

We clinked glasses, and she looked around the room again. She asked me, “Is anyone in that bedroom?”

“Yes. Have a seat.”

“I’ll stand. What’s going on? What was that all about at the airport?”

I said, “I’ve been busy since I got home.”

“You said you were taking R amp; R at the beach.”

“I was. Westhampton Beach.”

She stared at me and said, “You were looking into the case.”

“I was.”

“I said we should drop it.”

She looked at me a long time, and I said, “You don’t seem overly thrilled.”

“I thought we agreed to let it alone and get on with our lives.”

I replied, “I promised you I’d find that couple, and I have.”

She sat down on the couch and said, “You found them?”

“Yes.” I pulled up a chair, and sat facing her. I said, “First, you have to understand that we may be-actually, we are in some danger.”

She said, “I sort of figured that… at the airport. My second clue was when Dom shoved a.38 Special in my handbag.”

“I hope you didn’t give it back.”

“I didn’t. Am I sleeping here tonight?”

“Sweetheart, if you’ve got the gun, you can sleep here with me.”

She smiled. “You’re so romantic.”

I asked her, “Where is Dom Fanelli and the other two cops?”

“Dom left. He said he didn’t want to butt in on our reunion. The two cops are at the elevators on this floor. They said at least one of them would be there through the night.”

“Good.”

“Tell me why we need them.”

“Because your friend Ted Nash would like to get rid of me, you, and Jill Winslow.”

“What are you-? Who is Jill Winslow?”

“The star of the videotape.”

She nodded. “Why would Ted…? Well, I guess I can figure that out.” She looked at me and said, “I’m sorry if I’m not taking this all in as quickly as I should…”

“You’re doing fine.”

“I’m jet-lagged, but that’s the least of it-I expected something else when I got home. I expected you at the airport, then we’d go back to our apartment. Instead, all hell breaks loose when I step out of the jetway… and now you’re telling me that we’re in danger, and you found-”

“Kate, let me start at the beginning-”

“How did you find them? Did they have a videotape of-?”

“Let me take it from the top.”

She pulled her legs up on the couch. “I won’t interrupt.”

I looked at her and said, “First, I love you. Second, you have a nice tan, and third, I missed you.” Fourth, you lost some weight.

She smiled and said, “ You have a nice tan, and you lost a lot of weight. Where did you get that shirt?”

“That’s part of the story.”

“Then tell me.”

I began at Kennedy Airport and my return from Yemen, then Dom Fanelli, Philadelphia, and Roxanne Scarangello.

Kate sat motionless except to bring her drink to her lips. She kept eye contact with me, but I couldn’t tell if she was impressed, incredulous, or so jet-lagged that she wasn’t taking it all in. Now and then she nodded, or opened her eyes wide, but she never said a word.

I continued on, through my midnight ride to the Bayview Hotel, Mr. Rosenthal’s archives, and the discovery of the name of Jill Winslow.

At this point, she asked me, “Did you find the guy?”

“I know who he is-a guy named Bud Mitchell-but he’s not under my control.”

“Where is he?”

“Ted has him. He’ll be all right for now, but if Ted determines that Bud Mitchell is more of a liability than an asset, then he goes.”

“Goes where?”

“Goes to where Ted came from.”

She didn’t reply.

I recounted my meeting with Ted Nash on the beach, but downplayed the physical confrontation by saying, “We got into a shoving match.”

She looked at the bandage on my chin, but didn’t say anything.

I told her Ted’s version of the story about how he found Bud Mitchell through fingerprints, then Jill Winslow through Bud, and how Ted and Liam Griffith and the mysterious Mr. Brown visited both these people and learned that the videotape had been physically destroyed. I related Ted’s story to me about the polygraph tests, and his claim that he was convinced that the videotape didn’t show anything that pointed to a missile attack. I said to Kate, “As shocking as this sounds, I think Ted was lying to me.”

She ignored my sarcasm, and asked, “Did Ted say that these people were actually doing it on the videotape?”

“They were. Which was one reason they didn’t want to come forward.”

She looked at me and asked, “So, you could find Jill Winslow?”

“I did.”

“And where is she now?”

“Behind that door.”

She looked at the door, but said nothing.

I continued, “So that night, knowing that Ted Nash was on my case, I went to Old Brookville, where Dom said a Jill Winslow lived.”

I went on with the briefing, trying to stick to the facts while giving her a little of my thought processes that went into this. I mean, I wasn’t blowing my own horn, but as I told the story, even I was impressed with my detective work.

I got to the part where I asked Jill Winslow about A Man and a Woman. I said to Kate, who was sitting up straight now, “That night at the hotel, she copied the beach cassette onto the videotape of A Man and a Woman that she borrowed from the hotel library.” I added, “She used a Band-Aid to cover the slot. Clever lady.” Clever John.

She stared at me, then said, “Did she still have the copied tape?”

“She did.”

“Did you see it? Do you have it?”

“I saw it, and I have it.”

“Where is it?”

“In my room.”

She stood. “I want to see it. Now.”

“Later. Let me finish.”

“What does it show?”

“It shows a fucking missile blowing that 747 out of the sky.”

“My God…”

She sat down and said to me, “I still don’t understand why Jill Winslow decided to confide in you after all these years and admit that she copied that tape and still had it.”

I thought about that question, and said, “I think I won her confidence… but more important, she’s a good person who was haunted by this event. I think she was waiting for an opportunity or a sign that the time had come to do the right thing.”

Kate nodded. “I understand. But does she understand what’s going to happen? I mean, her marriage, her life, her friend Bud…?”

“She understands. Bud’s the one having a problem.”

“But she’s a stand-up witness?”

“She is.” I continued and told Kate about coming to the Plaza, and about my various phone calls from Dead Ted, and Jill’s phone calls from her husband, and Bud Mitchell, and also Jill’s call from Ted.

Kate remarked, “That poor woman. How is she holding up?”

“Pretty good. She’ll be better now that you’re here. She needs another woman to talk to.”

“That’s uncommonly sensitive of you. Is your new shirt in any way related to the new you?”

“No.” I said to her, “I also called our boss, and I have to tell you, Kate, Jack Koenig knows something about this, and he’s sitting on the fence.”

She seemed surprised, then incredulous, and asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure something is not right there.”

She didn’t respond to that, but asked me, “All right, what happens next with Mrs. Winslow and the videotape?”