Michael Palmer - Silent Treatment

Maura recognized the behemoth immediately.He was Perchek's thug — the survivor from the pack. Snarling, she leapt at him,pounding at his face with her right hand as she tried to unzip the fanny packwith her left. Her first blow, with her fist, caught him on the bone just abovehis eye. He cried out, pawing at it with one hand, lashing out at her with theother. She ducked under his first blow and felt her hand inside the pack closeon the grip of the revolver. In one motion, she pulled it out, jammed themuzzle into his ribs, and fired.

Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. Theone chance she might have had was gone. The killer snatched the gun away andslapped her viciously across the face. Her lip split and tore against herteeth. Her head snapped back against the window. Then she pitched face-forwardalmost on to his lap.

'Safety, safety,' he teased, his voicesurprisingly high-pitched. 'We mustn't try to shoot our little gun until werelease the safety.'

He grabbed her by the neck and pulled herupright. She spit at him, spattering his shirt and face with blood. He wipedoff his cheek with the back of his hand, slowly, furiously. And then he hit heragain, as forcefully as the first time. Now, she was limp. He pushed her downto her knees and roughly pressed her face on to the seat.

'We're looking for your pal Corbett,' hesaid.

'I don't know,' Maura managed. Her facewas throbbing and his grip on her neck was hurting as well. But she wasdetermined not to give him the pleasure of making her cry. 'I don't know wherehe is or even if he's alive.'

The killer pulled Harry's shirt out of herbag. He jerked her face up to show her.

'Sure you don't,' he said.

'Even if I did know where he was, I'dnever tell you.'

He pressed her face back into the seat.

'The Doctor will be pleased to hear that,'he said.

The most sought-after fugitive in New Yorkcarefully maneuvered the huge Winnebago Luxor through the streets of Manhattan,trying not to attract any unnecessary attention. He was sticking as much aspossible to the broad, north-south avenues, terrified of turning on to acrosstown street that was narrowed with trucks or construction. Spending mostof his life in the city, where his car often remained in the parking garage forweeks at a time, his driving was rusty. Backing up the BMW often presented achallenge. Backing the motor home out of a narrow city street lined on bothsides with cars would be potential disaster. His picture was all over theplace. A fender bender, a cop, an arrest. It would probably be that simple.

It was ten minutes of ten. Harry waseasing his way down Columbus Avenue, trying to time it so that he turned on toFifty-sixth at exactly ten. Once he had Maura, they could get out of the cityand find a place to stop and sort things out. There were those who knew, or atleast believed, he was innocent — Maura, Tom Hughes, Mary Tobin, KevinLoomis, Steve Josephson, Doug Atwater, Julia Ransome, Phil, Gail. Harry glanceddown at the console-mounted clipboard and the pad on which he was writing downthe names, and added Ray Santana to the list. He had a number of friends, workassociates, and even patients who would be hard-pressed ever to believe he wascapable of any crime, let alone murder. But the question was who amongthem would be willing to take chances for him.

Together, he and Maura would be able tofigure out something — especially if they were somehow able to locate Ray.Santana had contributed mightily to the mess he was in, but he certainly hadn'tcaused it. Now, if he could be brought together with Loomis, a breakthrough wasquite possible. If. First Harry had to reconnect with Maura; then he hadto do what he could to ensure that Kevin Loomis stayed alive; and finally, hehad to find Santana — and do it all while keeping himself out of jail. FirstThings First, he thought, recalling one of the blue and gold banners he hadseen on the wall of the AA meeting. First Things First.

He turned on to Fifty-sixth Street.Gratefully, there were no delivery trucks, road crews, or double parkers. Butthere was also no Maura. The front of C.C.'s was deserted, and the place lookedto be locked up. Harry slowed and considered stopping to check the door. But aninsistent horn from behind saved him the trouble of making a decision. He droveup Amsterdam for a few blocks, then swung over to Columbus and made anotherpass. Nothing. He tried calling her apartment and his, but got answeringmachines in both places. There was no answer at C.C.'s. Finally, he paged Phil.

'Hey, Harry,' Phil said. 'Good to hearfrom you. I think I caught some little item about you on the news orsomeplace.'

'Very funny. How are Gail and the kidsholding up?'

'Let's just say we're all having to defendthe family name a bit. How're you doing?'

'Thanks to you, I'm still on the loose.Phil, that note I gave you set up a meeting with Maura. But so far she hasn'tshowed. Are you sure it was delivered?'

'Positive. I spoke to Ziggy this morning.He put it in her hand personally at about three A.M.'

'Shit.'

'Anything I can do?'

'Not for now. You've done more than enoughalready. Phil, thanks, I'll be in touch.'

'Just take good care of my baby, there.I've been promising Gail a weekend away in her. Now that you've gotten firstdibs, I'm going to have to deliver.'

Harry cruised around his loop for almostan hour, careful to widen or shorten it each time. No Maura. Something wasdefinitely wrong. He got Kevin Loomis's home phone number from information andtried him there. Daddy was at the store getting ice for a party, a childinformed him. Mommy was in the bathroom. Harry said he'd call back in an hour.

It was nearly eleven — almost two hoursbefore the second scheduled try at connecting outside C.C.'s. Harry would bethere, but he felt almost certain that Maura would not. Perchek? Dickinson?Booze? Of the three, only a fall off the wagon seemed unlikely. He checkedthe gas gauge and the rest of the jet plane dashboard panel. No problems … sofar. He headed downtown.

The only option he had, it seemed, was totry and find Ray Santana. He had no desire to put Mary Tobin at risk, but hereally had no choice. Besides, he thought smiling, in any match between theauthorities and Mary, his sympathies would have to go out to the cops. Hereached her at home. As he expected, she was anxious to do whatever she couldto help him and had an enormous extended family who were willing to help out aswell.

'My son-in-law, Darryl, is the only onewho has bad-mouthed you,' she said. 'He'll be back home just as soon as theyfinish the X rays and the stitches. An' that's just from my daughter. He'llstill have to deal with me.'

It took almost forty-five minutes for herto get Walter Concepcion's address and number and make it back home. As soon asshe entered the office, the two policemen who were staking out the place hadbarged in and questioned her.

'We're going to get him,' one of them hadsaid. 'Just don't you be helping him when we do.'

'I've got twenty-one grandchildren andseven great-grandchildren, young man,' Mary replied. 'I'm sure you'll be a bighit with your family and fellow officers when you haul me off to jail.'

At precisely noon, she called Harry withConcepcion's number and address and a report of her conversation with police.He called immediately and got no answer. Then, when he was a block away fromthe rooming house, he tried again. This time, Santana picked up. Three minuteslater, he loped out of the house and jumped into the passenger seat. Harry knewthe moment he saw the man that his anger had gone. He was merely grateful thatwhere there had been one, now there were two. He swung on to the Harlem RiverDrive, heading north.

'Now this is my idea of a getaway car,'Santana said. Ray was well past needing a shave and looked as wasted and hyperas Harry had ever seen him.