Don Winslow - California Fire And Life

"I'll get the money for you!"

"You'd better." Karpotsov got off the bed. "Well, I'd like to see the end of the movie but I'm sure you have things to arrange. Like, later, dude."

He got up and left.

Nicky had a very restful night.

Closing his eyes, he saw Lev's dome bobbing up and down in the water. Opening his eyes, he saw them taking a torch and He spent most of the night pacing the house.

Now, this morning, Nicky loses it. "They came into the house where my children sleep and took my mother!"

Slams his hand on the kitchen counter.

Temper, temper, he tells himself.

Temper will do you no good.

Think it through.

Karpotsov is a reality that must be dealt with and dealt with quickly.

Or Mother is dead and the children are next.

He calls the number Karpotsov gave him.

"I have an offer to make," Nicky says.

"I hope it's a good one."

"It's a very good one."

A piece of the biggest insurance company on the West Coast.

"A good faith payment," Karpotsov says. "Today."

"You'll get it," Nicky says. "I have money coming in this morning."

So it's all right, he tells himself. It's cool. Tratchev is dead. Azmekian is dead. Gordon is dead. Two Crosses is out, KGB is in, that's all. A simple swap. Money coming in. Money to ransom Mother. Everything will be all right -

The phone rings.

Jack starts reading off the inventory. Finishes off the last item, then says, "Yup, it's all here."

Nicky says, "Where are you?! If you have my furniture, where is it?"

"I thought your furniture was burned up in the fire," Jack says. "Of course, if you'd like to withdraw that claim…"

"You don't know-"

"If you now say that your furniture's been stolen, I suggest you call the police right away."

"— who you're-"

"Or submit a claim on the theft," Jack says. "It shouldn't be too hard. I think we already have the inventory."

"You don't know who you're dealing with."

"Porfirio Guzman," Jack says.

"What?"

"That name ring a faint bell with you?"

"No."

"That's what I thought," Jack says. "You had him killed twelve years ago. I understand that's a long time to remember a little thing like that."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, I have a million bucks' worth of stuff which is also enough evidence to connect you to the arson and your wife's murder," Jack says. "What do you think I'm going to do?"

Silence for a second. Then Nicky says, "I'm prepared to be reasonable."

"I'm not."

"One hundred thousand dollars," Nicky says. "Cash."

"That's cheap, Nicky. I'm surprised at you."

"One-fifty."

"Nickel and dime."

"Two hundred thousand," Nicky says.

"No."

"Make your offer."

"Drop your lawsuit," Jack says.

"Would that do it for you?"

"No," Jack says. "Drop your claim."

"If I had the furniture back…"

"You can get it back…"

"Good."

"After you confess that you burned the house and killed your wife."

Long sigh from Nicky.

"We can still make a deal," he says.

"I already told you," Jack says.

I don't do deals.

Nicky says, "I'll be coming for you."

Jack says, "Bring your lunch."

And hangs up.

Nicky slams his hand on the counter.

He feels someone behind him.

Little Michael is standing there.

"Is Grandma gone?" he asks.

"Yes," Nicky says. "But-"

"Is she all burned up, too?" Michael asks. "Like Mommy?"

Nicky freaks.

The sun starts burning off the marine layer.

So the world is coming clear and sharp as Jack steps out of the old rec hall.

He checks the load in Teddy's pistol.

Six shots left.

Should be enough.

When they come, they'll come through the old gate. He'll hear it creak open and then he'll hear their steps. Nicky won't come alone. He'll have his hitters.

Enough to take me out.

But not before I kill him.

Jack slips the pistol in his waistband and waits.

Letty del Rio checks the load in her weapon and slips it back into the holster.

This is a tricky operation with one hand.

Trickier still to drive, but she's going to do it.

Show up at Nicky's door like a bad-news Avon lady.

Ding-dong.

She finesses her coffee cup to the floor below her feet and starts the engine. Wondering where the hell Jack is. Why didn't he show up?

Never mind.

Time to go see Nicky.

Ding-dong.

The gate creaks open.

Jack hears it scrape against the ground.

One set of footsteps coming up the path.

Let it be Nicky, Jack thinks.

He holds the pistol at his side.

Pulls the hammer back and raises the gun.

Gets a whiff of something in the wind.

The smell of a burning cigarette.

Goddamn.

He tucks the pistol back under his shirt.

Goddamn, Billy.

They stand there not looking at each other for a minute or so.

Jack had forgotten how beautiful the view was from up here. The palm trees, the bougainvillea and jacaranda, the wide stretch of white beach that sweeps up to the big rock at Dana Head.

Has to be one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Worth saving.

Worth killing for.

"It ain't too late," Billy says.

"For what?"

"For you to walk away," Billy says. "Forget about what you seen here."

Jack nods.

"It's too late," he says. "How long have you been on their payroll?"

"A long time."

"Since the Atlas Warehouse?"

Billy nods. "Nobody was supposed to die. Just a price buildup and a sale to the insurance company."

"Why, Billy?"

"Money," Billy says. "You bust your ass for this company for dog bones while the agents make the big money and the underwriters take payoffs and the judges take bribes and the lawyers rake it in, and we old dogs are just supposed to roll over for the table scraps? The hell with that."

"You set me up," Jack says. "You gave them my files, you tipped them off to every move. You jerked me like I was on a leash. You knew everything to do, everything to say to keep me pushing. You let me walk deeper and deeper into the trap, Billy, and you didn't say a word."

"I had no choice, Jack," Billy says. "I had no goddamn choice."

"Everyone has a choice."

"So make a good one for yourself," Billy says. "I'm here to offer you a deal, Jack. You can still get on the boat."

"With you and Nicky?"

Billy laughs, "You still don't get it, Jack. It ain't Nicky. It's Mahogany Row. All the VPs and the president. They all got shares."

Jack feels like the world is spinning.

"Shares in what?"

Billy gestures all around them. "In this, Jack. Great Sunsets. We own it."

Like the world's falling out from under him.

"California Fire and Life?" he asks. "Owns Great Sunsets? Owns the Strands?"

"Mahogany Row, me, and some others," Billy says. "We all have shares."

"Nicky Vale?"

"Partners."

Genius.

Sheer freaking genius, Jack thinks.

"The company's been taking a goddamn pounding," Billy says. "Between the fires and the earthquakes and the fraud and the goddamn lawsuits, the company was about to go belly up. So instead of giving it all to the damn lawyers and the other crooks we decided to get a piece of it ourselves. We made some deals — started paying on some of the drive-downs, the phony thefts, the medical buildups, the arsons, and taking our cut on the other end. Pay out the money, get it back in the form of shares in dummy companies."

The perfect way to loot your own company, Jack thinks. Pay bogus claims to yourself. Route the money through policyholders who then invest back into your dummy companies.