Michael Palmer - Silent Treatment

'Hello?'

'Kevin Loomis?'

'Yes.'

'It's Harry. Harry Corbett. How're youdoing?'

'Fine. We're having a party here, though.I really can't talk.'

'That's okay. You can just listen. I won'ttake long. The murder they want me for, the surgeon. .?'

'Yes.'

From the doorway, Nancy asked with bodylanguage if the call was anything for her to be concerned with. Kevin shook hishead.

'It's Atwater, Kevin,' Harry went on.'Doug Atwater from Manhattan Health. He's the knight behind the killings,behind that Dr. Perchek I told you about.'

'I suspected as much. Atwater's Galahad,the knight in charge of security. I saw him earlier today on the news.'

'The others in your group may haveparticipated, but I believe he's the mastermind. We're going after him and Perchekright now.'

'Good luck.'

'Kevin, I'm calling to beg you to see thisthing through. If we get them, we're going to need you to testify against them.If we fail, all those patients at risk are going to need you even more.'

'I … I don't know what you're talkingabout,' Kevin said. 'Of course I'm going to see this through. I wish you lucktonight. I've got to go now.'

'Kevin, please be strong. You have toomuch to lose. We all do.'

Kevin set the receiver down withoutreplying. Damn Corbett. He didn't have any kids. He turned on the sinkwater, which was now little more than a trickle.

'Hey, Fred,' he called to one of the twomen he had selected, 'we've got no water pressure all of a sudden. What do youthink?'

The man shrugged.

'Guess we ought to check the basement,' hesaid.

Kevin allowed him to open the basementdoor and try the light.

'Bulb's out,' the man said. 'Or else thepower down there's dead.'

From below, they could clearly hear thesound of gushing water. Kevin handed him a flashlight and then called overReverend Pete Peterson and handed him one as well. His pulse was beginning torace.

'It looks like a great flood down there,'he said. 'Unfortunately, my waders are right in the middle of it. You guys hangon the stairway and follow me with your lights. I'll see what I can see.'

It was about to happen, Kevin was thinking. It feltstrange, so strange that his whole life had come down to these few moments.

He led the two men down to the basementand stepped into foot and a half of water. 'It's the washing machine hose,' hecalled out from the blackness. 'It's snapped off. Keep your lights on it.'

All those things in life that had seemedso damn important at the time … all meaningless. .

'Just be careful,' Peterson said.

Kevin jammed the hose back on to itshousing.

'See,' he said, 'no problem. No problem atall.'

What I am doing is right. Bestfor Nancy. Best for the kids. Best for everyone. God, forgive me. .

Sir Tristram, Knight of The Roundtable,took a single deep breath and then set his hand down the back of the dryer. Hisbody stiffened. Sparks shot from his legs at the waterline. His heart went intoimmediate standstill. The muscles in his hand, in a viselike spasm, tightenedaround the frayed wire. He had been dead for fifteen seconds by the time theweight of his body pulled him free of the wire and allowed him to drop into thewater.

'Green Dolphin Street.'

They were still a ways from Atwater'smansion when Harry began hearing the tune in his head. He tapped out the rhythmon the steering wheel and bobbed his head to the bass line.

'What are you doing?' Santana asked.

'Listening to music. It's a tune that popsinto my brain when I'm keyed. Sometimes I don't even realize I'm tense until Ihear it.'

Santana studied him. From within the blackgreasepaint, his eyes were glowing discs of pearl.

'Keep listening,' he said finally.

They drove toward the Hudson until theyfound the narrow, winding roadway that paralleled the Palisades. Harry cut theheadlights and slowed down. There were no cars on either side, moving orparked. The houses, each overlooking the Hudson from a majestic height, werewidely spaced and nestled in the woods a good distance from the road. Throughthe rain and the gloom, it was impossible to make out much more than lightsfrom any of them.

'You still think you know where we are?'Santana asked.

'I'm not as certain as I was a littlewhile ago,' Harry said, peering through the Winnebago windshield, which wasbeing squeegeed by wiper blades as big as hockey sticks. 'Maybe that's why thedamn tune in my head keeps getting louder.'

'Maybe it's time to stop listening. How'reyou even going to know we're there?'

'I'm looking for that wall I told youabout. That stone wall.'

At almost the moment he said the word, theysaw it — fieldstone set in cement, two feet thick, running along the road asfar as they could see. To their right, a six-foot-high chain-link fenceextended from the wall toward the cliffs. Harry pulled as far off the road ashe could, cut the engine, and gestured toward the fence.

'I would guess there's another one likethis on the other side, and then the cliffs in the back. So the place iscompletely enclosed.'

'A big corral,' Santana said. 'What betterplace for a gunfight?'

Peering down the road, they could justmake out the main gate, perhaps fifty yards away. Santana used a hoodedflashlight and set out their equipment, which included a snub-nosed revolverand the silenced semiautomatic that Harry knew had killed the gunman in thepark. In addition, there was a rope, adhesive tape, switchblade knives, wirecutters, wire, Swiss Army knives, powerful flashlights, and several boxes ofammunition. Santana handed Harry the revolver and some bullets.

'The safety's here,' he said. 'Flip it offafter you load it. Then just point and shoot.'

'Just point and shoot,' Harry echoed. 'Theultimate Kodak moment.'

'Load up your rucksack and be ready.'

Santana took the binoculars and the rifle,switched off the interior lights of the RV, then opened the door and slippedout. Harry watched, impressed, as the former DEA undercover agent moved quicklyand silently into the wall and scaled it in a heartbeat. He lay flattened onthe top, scanning the property. Then, after a few minutes, he was back.

'The house is pretty well lit and not thatfar away. I can actually see into some of the windows. There's one guard in alittle house by the gate. I didn't see anyone else.'

'Any dogs?'

'Not that I could see.'

'Shouldn't we have brought some big T-bonesteaks just in case?'

'You mean like they do in the movies?'

'Exactly.'

'Harry, any attack dog that's worth itssalt knows the difference between the kind of meat that just lies there and thekind of fresh meat it gets to hunt down and kill. We see a dog, we shoot it.That's too simple for the movies, but it's damn efficient. Now, here's what Ithink we should do. I'm going back up on the wall, about halfway down. When Iflash one time, call the house and demand to speak to Maura. That way we'llknow for certain she's there. Hopefully I'll see her through one of thewindows. If not, we'll just have to get close enough to figure out where sheis. If I flash twice, come along. Three times, there's trouble of some kind. Inthat case, hop up on the wall right over here, and be ready to use that gun.Lock the doors and leave the key wedged under the right rear tire. Questions?'

'None.'

'You ready?'

'I am. Ray, I guess there is one thing.'

'Go ahead.'

'Please don't take this wrong. I've got ascore to settle with these people too. A big score. I just want to remind youto … to keep your cool.'

Santana's response was not what Harryexpected. He glared at him in an unsettling, frightening way. The tic by hiseye and at the corner of his mouth intensified.

'Okay, you asked, now you listen,' hesnapped. 'I've lived in pain every second of every minute of every hour ofevery fucking day since that bastard shot that stuff into my body. Sevenyears. The only peace I ever got during that time was when I was able toimagine what it was like for him in that filthy Mexican prison. Now he's upthere in that mansion along with the bastard who set me up to be tortured.Don't you tell me to keep my cool.'