Michael Palmer - Silent Treatment

The ringing persisted — five, six, seventimes. Phil's agreement with Gail was that if she was in the house on pokernight, she would answer all phone calls. But tonight, she had gone to themovies with friends. Phil studied his ten, jack, queen, king of diamonds, andthen glared over at the phone, trying to will it to cease. Finally, he slappedhis cards down.

'You gentlemen'll have to wait a minutefor me to take your money,' he said rising. 'But I'd advise you all to fold.I'm working on a straight flush.'

'Yeah, sure,' someone muttered.

'Hello?'

'Phil, it's me. Are you alone?'

Phil had no trouble picking up the urgencyin his brother's voice.

'Ah, no. No, I'm not.'

'Change phones, please.'

Phil put the call on hold.

'I was lying about the straight flush,' hesaid, burying his cards at the bottom of the deck. 'You guys play on without mefor a while.'

In twenty minutes, Phil was back, his faceheavy with concern.

'There's been some problems with mybrother,' he said. 'I'm afraid we're going to have to call it a night.'

'Anything we can do?' White asked.

'Actually, there is. I'd like it if youand Matt could stay behind. The rest of you just head home as quickly aspossible. We'll settle up tomorrow. And if any of you want to, feel free to saya prayer for Harry. He's in it pretty deep right now and he's going to need allthe help he can get.'

'Phil, you be careful, now,' one of theother three men said. 'No one wants to believe somebody in their family couldget into big-time trouble, but it happens.'

'I know, Stan. Thanks. I'd like you toforget I got that call just now, but in the end, that's up to you.'

The three men exchanged concerned glances.Then, without further question, they hurried for their cars. Ziggy White andMatt McCann remained behind. A few moments after the last car had left, apolice cruiser, lights flashing, came up the drive.

'Matt, I'm going to need you to stay andwatch the kids until Gail gets home,' Phil said. 'Maybe around eleven-thirty.Ziggy, I'm going to speak with these guys. Then I have to get out of herewithout being followed. Any ideas?'

During their school years, White had beena daredevil among daredevils — always diving in from the highest rock orshoplifting some unneeded item from the most theft-conscious store. He had goneon to make a small fortune as an options trader. Now, he mulled over theproblem for just a few seconds.

'No sweat,' he said, excitedly. 'Matt'llhide while the cops are here. You make it clear your wife is out and you'rebabysitting. I'll walk them out and have a chat with them by the squad car.Meanwhile, you slip out the back. Take a flashlight, but only use it whenyou're certain it's safe. Go through your backyard and then across that littlebrook you have back there. If they're going to stake you out, they'll have towait somewhere past the end of the driveway. I'll leave when they do and headout like I'm going home, but I'll turn off at Maitland. I'll meet you right bythe Griffins' driveway. They're in England until after Labor Day. You knowwhere that is, right? Okay. You can drop me off someplace near my house andkeep the car as long as you need it.'

Harry knelt in the dense undergrowth justbeyond the soft shoulder of a rural two-lane road. The night wasn't thatchilly, but he was soaked through and shivering. Thank God Phil had been home.Thank God he hadn't hesitated in agreeing to help. Now, if he would only showup. Accessory to murder was nothing he wanted to expose his brother to. Butuntil he found Anton Perchek and a way to bring him down, staying free was theonly realistic chance he had.

The biggest problem, since he didn't knowexactly where he was calling Phil from, and Phil didn't know the Fort Lee areawell at all, was finding a way to meet up. It was finally left to Harry tochoose the right person to bribe into driving him to a spot they both knew — alittle-traveled roadway that swung past a power substation not far from theirchildhood home in Montclair. It was the place where Harry first took hisyounger brother to introduce him to beer and cigarettes, only to find that Philwas already well acquainted with both.

The lucky man Harry selected was amotorcyclist on a Harley chopper. Harry watched from the woods beside a servicestation as the biker lumbered into the restroom and called him over as soon ashe came out. The man was well tattooed and grizzly bear huge — as unlikely tobe frightened off by Harry as he was to be tight with the police. The fare forthe half-hour ride was agreed upon in seconds — a thousand dollars. Over hisyears in medicine, Harry had seen the ravages of bike accidents often enough tohave developed a healthy fear of ever riding on what the ER docs cynicallyreferred to as 'donorcycles.' But the biker, whose name was Claude, was worththe risk. Harry donned the spare Panzer Division helmet, hunched as low as theraised passenger seat would allow, clenched his teeth, and wrapped his armsaround the bear.

'Hey, if you're gonna get that friendly, Iwant another hundred,' the biker said, laughing.

'You don't speed and I won't get fresh,'Harry replied.

Within the first mile or two, they hadpassed four police cars heading in the opposite direction.

'You must be some hot stuff,' Claudecalled over his shoulder.

'Parking tickets,' Harry yelled back.

During the half hour Harry had beencrouched in the bushes by the substation, six cars had passed, one of them aMontclair police cruiser. Now, as he wiped a muddy hand across his forehead, hewondered what his next move should be. If there was any workable optionavailable to him, any at all, his mind hadn't settled on it yet. On the plusside, he had miraculously made it through the trap Perchek had set for him inFort Lee. Still, by the time the forty-minute ride was over, Harry's teeth werechattering mercilessly. He tipped the biker with a hundred-dollar bill ascasually as if it were a one and accepted a death's-head pin in return. Now, asthe fear that he and Phil had somehow miscommunicated took hold, he wished hehad kept Claude around.

There were bends in the road about fiftyyards in either direction from where Harry was concealed. The headlights ofapproaching cars reflected off the trees several seconds before they actuallycame into sight. Each time, as soon as he heard the engine noises or saw thereflected light, he flattened down in the shallow swale beside the road. Andeach time he got a bit filthier and, if possible, a bit more sodden.

Through the darkness and the persistentdrizzle, he heard engine noise to his left. Moments later, reflected lightshimmered high off the trees. A truck, he thought, burrowing back undercover. What it was instead was a mobile home, as large as a bus, moving alongslowly, followed closely by a car. Harry froze as the two-vehicle caravanslowed even more and then stopped not ten feet away. Both drivers cut theirengines and killed their headlights. Immediately, heavy darkness settled inagain. The interior light on the massive RV flashed on and off as the dooropened and closed. For several seconds there was dense silence. Then Philcalled out.

'Harry? You out there?'

Before he could even reply, Harry had towork the immense tension from his muscles and his jaw. He worried in passingabout the second car, but at this point he had to trust that Phil knew what hewas doing.

'Right here, bro,' he said.

He pushed himself to his feet and made anineffectual stab at brushing some mud off. Phil met him at the front of the RV,which Harry could see now was a Winnebago.

'You okay?'

'Soaked, scared to death. Is that the sameas okay?'

'Well, believe it or not, I have a warm-upsuit inside that'll fit you.'

'Who's in the car?'

'It's Ziggy White. Remember him?'

'The one who used to bet people he coulddrive a mile blindfolded?'