Iris Johansen - Deadlock

"I didn't have any doubt." When Emily had suddenly jumped out of the car and told him that she was going with Irana, he'd known there would be no way to stop her. "But I don't like it that they're not out yet."

"Do you want me to go after them?"

Yes. But he knew better. It would only antagonize both of them, and the time wasn't unreasonable yet. But he wanted to be closer, not sitting here on pins and needles. "No." He opened his car door. "I'm coming to you. I should be there in five minutes."

EMILY GOT UP FROM HER CHAIR and strolled over to the French doors through which Irana had disappeared. She shook her head in wonder as she saw the bishop and Irana sitting together on the bench by the fountain. The old man was sitting with his eyes closed and looked as if he was about to drift off to sleep, and Irana had taken his hand and was sitting in silence. Emily couldn't have imagined a more comfortable or tranquil scene. Irana might have been the old man's granddaughter and certainly wasn't interrogating him with any degree of urgency. In fact, Emily could almost feel the bond that was draw¬ing the old man and the young woman together. Strange, but no stranger than Irana's insistence on coming here.

Her phone rang, and she didn't check the ID. It had to be Garrett wondering why-

"Hello, Emily, beautiful day, isn't it?"

She felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach. "Staunton?"

"You're always surprised when I call you. I don't know why. You should know I want to keep in touch. I've made sure that I know where you are, where you go. It seems a long time since our chat at the silo."

"I was hoping you'd bled to death."

"Yes, I was very angry with you about that. But I wasn't seriously hurt, and I'm back in fine form."

"That's unfortunate. I'll try to do better next time."

"I'm sure you will. I gained a new respect for you, Emily. At first, I only wanted to kill you at the earliest possible opportunity, but then I realized that nothing had really changed. In fact, my admiration will be like a savory flavor added to our experience."

"Babin is dead. You killed him, didn't you?"

"Did I?"

"You murdered Nemid and Babin. Did you kill Nicholas Zelov?"

"Not personally."

"Borg?"

"I really shouldn't incriminate Borg. He's been very helpful."

"Why? Why are you doing it?"

"Can't you guess? But you're such a smart woman."

"Tell me."

"Old Mikhail Zelov had the right idea. You have to clear the way if you're going to become a god. Witnesses are awkward. It's better that no one is left alive to tell the tale."

"A god?"

"That much money can make a man into a god. That's why Mikhail Zelov kept coming back here and trying to get his hammer. I understand him perfectly. He was a rich man, but he didn't have enough to become what he thought was his destiny."

"He was a monster. He was responsible for the deaths of the royal family and Rasputin."

"And that left no one who could get in his way. Very smart. I ad¬mire his efficiency. From the moment I read that Book of Living that wimp Nicholas Zelov had sold to Babin, I knew that Mikhail Zelov and I were so much alike, we could have been mirror images. Except I'm much smarter. I can do it better. That's why I made out my list. I wonder if Mikhail Zelov had a list."

"Nemid, Zelov, and Babin were on this… list?" "Of course."

She moistened her lips. "And who else?"

"You and your friends." He paused. "I have a special plan for Gar¬rett. I've decided I'm going to take a long, long time killing him. It will be worse than what Levy suffered."

Shock and panic rippled through her.

"You're not speaking. Does the thought upset you? I believe I'll let you watch again."

No, not again. Not to Garrett.

Don't let Staunton know what his words had done to her. She kept her voice steady. "Who else?"

"So that you can run to the rescue?" His tone turned malicious. "As you did with Sister Irana? You were a little late. Did she tell you what I-"

"Shut up. Don't talk about her."

"Oh, I did hurt you there, didn't I? If I'd had more time, I would have-"

"I said shut up."

"You can't stop me. Not with her. Not with Garrett. That's the way to hurt you, Emily. I remember you were so terribly upset that you couldn't save your friend, Levy."

"Who else is on your list?"

"I don't believe I'll tell you. You should really worry about your¬self. That's what I want you to do. I want you to sweat. I want you to panic. I want your heart to start pounding when you hear my voice. Terror is a bit like sex if it's done right. Same moist palms, same tight¬ening of the muscles. Is your heart pounding now, Emily?"

"No."

"It will. I've neglected you far too long. Your Garrett was too savvy. I had to work around him and do damage control. But don't worry; I can give you the majority of my attention now."

"By all means. Stop hiding and come out in the open. Maybe you're afraid that I'll manage to kill you. I'm really a very good shot. You would have been dead if you hadn't moved at the last second. Let's see if you can do anything but make threatening phone calls."

He chuckled. "You're taunting me. How very brave… and foolish. For you see, it's all at what location I make those threatening phone calls."

She stiffened. "What location?"

"It's a beautiful day and the rose garden is particularly lovely, isn t it?

She forgot to breathe. She couldn't speak.

"And I believe that our Bishop Dimitri is taking a little snooze. Your friend, Irana, must not be a good conversationalist." "Where are you?"

"At a point where I can see everything you can see. I was disap¬pointed when you didn't follow Irana Povak out to join the bishop. But then I realized it was all to the good. I want you to be last, and now I'll be able to let you witness, as you did with Levy. You must like Irana Povak very much to go through all you did for her. You took her away from me, but now I can take her back in the most final way possible."

"Where are you?" she repeated hoarsely.

"Close enough. I'm very good with a rifle. I'm sighting now…"

"No!" She jammed the phone in her pocket as she tore open the door. "Irana! Get down!" She was running down the path. "You've got to get down!"

She could see Irana's startled face. The bishop was opening his eyes, straightening on the bench. "It's Staunton. Get down. He's going to-"

"You get down, Emily." Irana had thrown herself on the bishop and was pulling him to the ground.

A low pop came from somewhere above and behind Emily. Irana!

Irana and Bishop Dimitri were both crumpled on the ground. Blood…

And Staunton must still be up there with his rifle. Emily instinctively dove sideways and rolled behind a bank of rosebushes lining the path. No shot.

She had to help Irana. She began to crawl toward them.

No shot.

"Emily!"

Garrett! "Get down. Staunton-" "I know." Garrett was beside her. "Are you okay?" She nodded jerkily as she tried to pull him down to the ground. Staunton-

"Are you sure it was Staunton? We caught sight of a shooter on the rooftop next door when we ran into the garden, but we couldn't iden¬tify him. Dardon is chasing him."

"I'm sure. He called me. He wanted me to know." She got to her feet. "He wanted me to know he was going to kill Irana."

"Irana?"

Emily wasn't listening. She was running toward the two people ly¬ing by the bench. "She was hit. There was blood…"

"Not my blood." Irana was slowly sitting up, her gaze fixed on the face of the bishop. "I tried to drag him down. I tried…"

Emily was staring down at Bishop Dimitri. A bloody hole had blossomed in the exact center of the bishop's forehead. "Very precise," she said dully. "Staunton told me he was a good shot. It wasn't you he meant to kill at all. He just wanted to see me panic."