Jack Higgins - The White House Connection

'I can't see any sight of her.'

'Okay, so let's stand over here and wait,' Parker said.

'I've got patients,' Bryant said, as they stepped into a shop doorway, and then he stiffened. 'Hey, there she is, crossing the road. The small, dark girl in the blue raincoat. Black umbrella.'

Jean Wiley put the umbrella down and went into Nick's Place. 'Nice legs,' Bryant observed.

'Yes, well, remember your concern over the doctor-patient relationship,' Parker told him. 'Thank you very much, Dr Bryant, you can go now.'

'If you need me, you know where to find me.' Bryant walked away, pulling up his collar.

Blake and Parker moved to the window of Nick's Place and peered in. The girl had taken coffee and a sandwich on a tray and moved to the back of the room to a booth. It was still early and there were few customers.

'How do we play this?' Harry Parker asked.

'Good guy/bad guy shouldn't really be necessary. Let's say you're a nice big avuncular cop doing your duty with deep regret, and I'm Mr Nice Guy Fed. But remember one thing, old buddy,' Blake said, 'I'm in charge. I'm the one who decides what happens to her.'

'The more I find out about this business, the more I'm happy to know it isn't my responsibility,' Parker said. 'In we go.'

Jean Wiley was eating a chicken sandwich with salad, and reading a paperback novel at the same time. Blake noticed it was Jane Austen's Emma. She glanced up, a slight frown on her face.

'May we join you?' Parker said.

'I'd have thought there was plenty of room elsewhere.'

'I think you'd better say yes,' Blake told her gently.

Parker flashed his gold badge. 'N YPD, Captain Harry Parker. My friend here, Mr Johnson, is with the FBI.'

'We think you might be able to help us,' Blake said. 'It relates to a double shooting last week.'

Her face said it all. It seemed to crumple, went very pale. 'Oh, my God.' She aged right there in front of them. 'I need the bathroom.'

'Sure you do,' Harry Parker said. 'Only don't go trying the back door. I know who you are, so I'd have to send a squad car, and I'm sure your boss wouldn't like that.'

She gave a dry sob as she got up, knocking over her coffee cup. She ran to the back of the coffee shop and one of the men came from behind the counter, a cloth in his hand, all belligerence.

'Hey, what gives? She's a nice kid. You can't come in and interfere with my customers.'

'I can close you down if I want.' Harry's gold badge appeared again. 'Police business.'

'The young lady witnessed a crime,' Blake said. 'We just need a few questions answered.'

The man's attitude changed completely. 'Hey, I'm Nick, this is my place. You want some coffee?'

'Great,' Parker told him. 'That's what I like – cooperation.'

The girl returned in a few minutes, still pale, but composed. There was a hint of steel there. This was no bimbo, Blake was certain of it. She sat down, and sipped some of the coffee Nick had brought.

'Right, what do you want?'

'A few details. Jean Wiley, am I right?' Parker said. 'Twenty-four?'

'So?'

'That's a neat scar on your left cheek. It'll fade with time, but it could make you look interestingly different.'

She was angry, her eyes dark. Blake said, 'What do you do?'

'I'm an associate at Weingarten, Moore just round the comer. I got my law degree from Columbia two years ago, so I know my rights, gentlemen.'

'Hey, why are we being nice here?' Parker appealed to Blake and turned to the girl. 'You want to tell us how your blood got on to the shirt of a murdered man?'

That really jolted her. She turned to Blake, startled, inquiring, and he said, 'Look, why fool around? Last week, two lowlifes were shot dead in an alley a few blocks from here, sometime after midnight.'

'The thing is, one guy was blood group A and the other O,' said Parker.

'Except there were traces of blood group B on his shirt,' Blake said.

'Which obviously got there when he cut your cheek,' Parker told her. 'Probably as he held you and you struggled. I'm right, aren't I? Those two grabbed you as you walked past.'

Her face was wild now, her voice low. 'Bastards. Dirty rotten bastards.' She took a deep breath and sipped some coffee, her hand shaking. 'It's a nice story, Captain, but I know my rights and I'm saying nothing.'

'Hell, a DNA check would say everything.'

Blake saw it all now, saw it as it must have been. It all came together. Dillon at Wapping in the Thames staring up at Tim Pat Ryan and certain death, and saved by the woman, the unknown executioner who had taken out the Sons of Erin one by one.

'They intended to rape you, perhaps murder you,' Blake said softly. 'You struggled, you were threatened with a knife, your face was cut, and then a woman walked out of all that darkness and rain and shot them dead.'

Parker turned to him, frowning. 'What is this?'

But it was the girl who was most affected, total shock on her face. 'How did you know that?'

There was total stillness between them. Blake said, 'Sometimes these things are like a jigsaw. You keep getting nowhere and then all the pieces fall into place and there it is, the complete picture.'

Even Parker was gentle now. 'Tell us about her, honey.'

'I can't,' she said. 'I'd rather die than see anything happen to that woman.'

She was shaking. Blake turned and called to Nick. 'Can we have a brandy here? You carry that? Good. And fresh coffee, some of that black Turkish stuff?'

She got her purse open, fumbled out a pack of cigarettes and dropped them. 'Damn!' she said. 'I'm supposed to have stopped.'

'You, me and everyone else I know.' Blake got out his Marl- boros , lit one and passed it to her.

'Just like Now Voyager.' She laughed nervously.

'Yeah, he's really a very romantic guy.' Parker took the brandy from Nick and passed it to her. 'Get that down.' She did as she was told, coughed once then reached for the coffee. 'Best fix in the world,' Parker added. 'And it's legal.'

'And here's something else that's legal,' Blake told her. 'Something they probably only whispered about in your law courses.' He passed her the presidential warrant.

She read it quickly and looked up at him in awe. 'My God.'

'Which means that you could tell Captain Parker here that you killed those two guys and he couldn't do a thing about it.'

She glanced at Parker. 'He's right, honey,' he said.

She nodded and it was as if she was looking back into the past. 'You've no idea what it's like, you men, when you're a woman in a really bad situation. It's the worst thing in the world.' She shuddered. 'So dirty, so foul. It's like the end of everything.'

'And then a guardian angel descends?' Blake suggested. 'Tell us about it.'

'I was on a date that went wrong, a guy who lied, didn't tell me he was married. We were having supper at this Italian place a few blocks away, late supper after a show. He got drunk, let slip the fact that he had a little woman at home and a couple of kids. I ended up walking out.'

'And you couldn't find a cab?' Parker said.

'It was after midnight, but more than that, it was raining like hell, and when can you get a cab in Manhattan when it's raining?'

'So you started walking?' Blake said.

'In all my finery. I had a small umbrella, but I still got soaked. I was so angry, just storming along in a kind of rage, and then I passed this alley and there were voices shouting and then I was grabbed, hustled inside. One guy held me, the other cut my cheek with one of those spring blade knives.' She shuddered deeply. 'They kept saying what they were going to do. The language was foul.'

'And then she appeared?' Blake asked.

It was as if they weren't there, as if she was talking to herself. 'It was unbelievable. Her voice was so gentle. She told them to let me go. I could see her standing there in the entrance to the alley. One of them was holding me from behind and the other shouted at her, all threats, I can't recall the exact words, and he made a move, I think, and her hand came up with a hat on it and she shot him through the hat.'