Don Winslow: A Cool Breeze on the Underground

The guy let him go. Neal saw Graham standing there, an evil smile that didn’t cover up his worry spread across his face. Neal looked behind him and saw Allie’s head through the rear window of the car. It was rested on her mother’s shoulder. Ethan Kitteredge sat next to them.

Ash blond hair. Impossible blue eyes.

“Hello, son.”

“She’s his daughter, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s news to me, Graham.”

“News to me, too. News to Kitteredge. News to the kid, soon.”

“How-”

“Long time. All these blue bloods know each other. When you called the other night… let me change that, when you finally called the other night, told me what kind of shape she was in, told me your demands-and thank you very much and, by the way, fuck you-I called the mother like you said. She must’ve gotten on the honker to The Man, because in less time than it takes Guidry to tank a three-run lead, the phone goes off again and guess who, Neal?”

“Kitteredge.”

“Who says okay. Fuck Chase, and the kid goes to the best laughing academy money can buy. Along with Mom, by the way.”

“And you kept all this from Ed?”

“Yeah.”

“He set me up, Graham. He was working the other side.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“How-”

“Trust me.” He gave Neal that satanic grin, then put a fatherly arm around his shoulders. “By the way, kid, Levine thinks you deliberately fucked us over. So does Chase. They don’t know anything about Allie being The Man’s daughter or nothing. They’re going to think you made an arrangement with Mrs. Chase for a cut of the divorce settlement, which should be wicked big.”

“But you’re going to set them straight, right?”

“No. The Senator is still useful to us.”

“After what we know about him? The Man can say that knowing what he knows about the Senator and his daughter?”

“It’s business, kid. Nothing personal.”

“Ed’s going to think it’s personal.”

Graham tightened his hold a little. “Yeah, well, that’s why we want you to disappear for a while. Let things cool off, you know?”

So I get to take the fall, Neal thought. You do the right thing and you get nailed for it.

“Now,” Graham continued, “I know you’re worried about graduass school. Your professor says you’re on leave of absence. To do research.” He handed Neal an envelope.

Neal opened it. The note from Kitteredge read: “Thank you for my daughter. You are, indeed, a friend of the family. I hope this partially compensates you for any inconvenience we may have, or will have, caused you.” There was a draft for ten thousand pounds sterling and an open return ticket to London.

He handed the bank draft back to Graham.

“Take half of it, and get it to Allie. Send me the change.”

“Are you crazy? The kid’s got more money than God.”

“I owe it to her. It’s hers.”

“You’re sick.”

“Tell me about it. Did I get any mail?” he asked.

“Not from Diane.”

How does he know these things? Neal wondered.

“You want me to track her down? Tell her where you’ll be?” Graham asked.

Neal shook his head.

“You think she’ll be okay?”

“Diane?”

“Allie.”

“Yeah, she’ll be okay. What, you got something for this kid?”

Neal snorted. “Just another job. You think I could chance going into town, catch a ball game, couple of hot dogs before I get back on a plane?”

Graham pulled two tickets out of his shirt pocket: Yankees versus Red Sox-box seats, Fenway Park.

“Your old Dad takes care of you, doesn’t he?”

“Box seats?”

“Father and son night. Two for one.”

“Figures.”

They started walking to the cab stand. “Did I mention,” Graham said, “that you look like shit, with your head shaved and a safety pin sticking through your ear? Doesn’t that hurt, for Chrissakes?”

“Not as much as the needle that made the hole.”

“Well, take it out. I don’t want people thinking you’re a fag.”

“I’m getting to kind of like it.”

“Great. What’s next? A simple strand of pearls?”

They stopped at the cab stand:

“You did good, son.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Rich lombardi slipped into the driver’s seat of his Porsche. All in all, things hadn’t worked out too badly. The Senator hadn’t gotten the Veep, but that was okay. This cracker wouldn’t last more than one term and then they’d have a crack at the number-one slot. And Allie was tucked away in a rubber room somewhere and couldn’t shoot off her mouth. He leaned back into the seat and was about to start the engine when he heard that flicking sound again, that rubbing. But it was only for a split second, because something cold and sharp was pressing into his neck.

“You know what I read in the papers this morning?” Joe Graham said. “I read they’re training monkeys to help out quadriplegics, you know, guys who can’t move their arms or legs? Yeah, these monkeys run all around their apartment and bring them things. Books, food, beer… you want one of those monkeys, Richie? Because if I press just a little right here… you’ll need a monkey to make your calls to London for you.”

“Don’t.”

“You set my kid up, didn’t you?”

“No, I-”

The knife pricked his flesh.

“Yes.”

“What for?”

“Afraid she’d talk.”

“About what?”

He hesitated. Then he felt a trickle of blood running down his neck.

“Things we did.”

Was there anyone who wasn’t tapping that kid? Graham thought.

“That was worth Neal getting killed?”

“I didn’t think they’d kill him.”

“Allie going down the tubes?”

“She was there already.”

“You’re scum, you know that?”

Lombardi was trembling so hard, Graham was afraid he’d cut him accidentally.

“Put both hands on the wheel. Lean forward. Close your eyes.” Lombardi started to cry as he did what he was told. Graham slipped out the passenger door and came around to the driver’s window.

“Take a message to your boss. From Kitteredge. From me. When this term is up, he packs it in. He quits. He also doesn’t fight this divorce. Tell him. And then you resign. You got that, hotshot? We see you anywhere near a politician again, you’re on a waiting list for one of those monkeys.”

He stepped away from the Porsche and into the waiting car. “You still want a piece of him?” he asked Levine.

Ed shook his head in disgust. “Not worth it.”

“Right.”

“I can’t believe Neal didn’t trust me,” Ed said as they were driving away. “Pisses me off.”

“Neal doesn’t trust a lot of people.”

“You gonna call him? Tell him he can come home?”

“No. Let’s leave him be for a while.”

Levine pulled the car out onto the street.

I’ll miss the little bastard, though, Graham thought.

The ringing startled Neal.

He set the Pickle down with a tinge of annoyance. He stepped outside and saw the postman walking his bicycle up the road, ringing the bell on the handlebars.

“I’d have come to the village, Bill. You didn’t have to come all the way up.”

Hadley handed him a big pile of mail wrapped in string. “From the States, looked important.”

“Well, thanks for the trouble.”

“No trouble.”

“Can I offer you a cup of tea? Kettle’s on. Take the chill out…”

“Wish I could, but I haven’t the time. Next week.”

“Well, ta, Bill.”

“Ta, Neal.”

He watched the postman pedal down the track and then he checked out the sky. It might snow before nightfall. Hardin would be bringing the sheep in early. He’d stop in for tea.