Jeffery Deaver - Manhattan Is My Beat

"Too bad the cab had good brakes," Rune said coldly. "We're lucky sometimes. Even people like me." Rune shook with anger and fear. Stephanie continued. "1 heard from Emily. The judge denied her bail request. But she said to say hello. She hopes you and I'd have a nice visit. And I think we will. Now, there's one thing I've got to know. Did you tell the cops or marshals anything about me?"

A click and a grind sounded behind them. Rune's eyes flashed for a second.

Richard.

Stephanie glanced at the sound, then turned back to Rune.

"Tell me," she said. "And I'll let you go." "Bullshit." Rune scrabbled away into the cushions as if they'd protect her from the black gun.

"I'll let you go," the woman said. "I promise."

"I'm the only witness. How can you let me go? You have to kill me." She looked at the clouds outside the loft, the dragons, the giants, the trolls, marching past, miles high, not caring a bit for what was going on down on earth.

The grinding started again. The elevator was coming up.

"You must've told them about me after the accident. Did the marshal I hit in the subway think I was part of Did you tell them my name?"

"It's not real."

"No, but I've used it before. I can be traced through it.

Chains, clinking chains. And the grind of metal on metal. Another loud click, a scrape.

"Who's coming to visit, Rune?"

"I don't know."

Stephanie glanced at the stairway. Then back at Rune. She said, "So, what do you have in your hand."

Rune couldn't believe that the woman had seen her. Oh, she was good. She was very good.

"Show me," Stephanie persisted.

Rune hesitated, then held up her hand and slowly opened the bandaged fingers. "The piece of stone. From the Union Bank Building. My souvenir. The one I picked up when you were with me that day down in Wall Street."

"Now, what were you going to do with it?"

"Throw it at you," Rune responded. "Smash your goddamn face."

"Why don't you just toss it over there." Lucy Zane held the silenced gun very steadily on Rune's chest.

Rune pitched the stone away.

Just as Richard climbed the stairs and said, "Hi."

He froze, seeing the gun in Stephanie's hand. "What is this?"

Stephanie waved him in. "Okay. Just stand there." She backed up so that she could keep them both covered. She held the gun out straight. It was small and its black metal gleamed in the sunlight. The short cylinder of the silencer was dark too.

Her voice now had an edge to it. "I don't have much time. Who'd you tell about me, Rune? And what did you tell them? I want to know. And I mean now."

"Let him go."

Richard said, "What the hell is this? Are you two joking?"

Stephanie's left hand went out toward him. Palm up. The nails were done in careful purple-pink. "Shut up, asshole. Just shut up." To Rune: "What did you tell them?"

"God," Richard whispered, looking at Rune. Rune sank back into the cushions, put her hands over her eyes, sobbing. "No, no… I don't give a shit about you or Emily or anybody. I won't testify. I'll tell them it wasn't Emily or you. Mr. Kelly's dead! Spinello's dead! Just leave us alone."

Stephanie said patiently, "Maybe I'll consider that. You have to understand, Rune. I like you. I really do. You're… charming. And I was really touched you were going to give me some of that ridiculous money. That almost choked me up. But you have to tell me. This's just business."

"All right… I didn't tell anybody anything about you."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true! All I did was write about you in my diary. I mentioned you and Emily." She sat back, hand in her lap, small, defeated. "I thought you were my friend. I described you and wrote how nice you were to help me buy some clothes."

If this choked her up too, Stephanie's expression didn't show it.

"Where is it?" the woman asked. "The diary. Let me have it and I'll let you go. Both of you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Rune debated then walked to her suitcase, rummaged through it. "I can't find it." She looked up, frowning. "I thought I packed it." She opened her leopard-skin bag, looked through that too. "I don't know. I… oh, there it is. On the bookcase. The second shelf."

Stephanie eased over to the bookcase. Touched a notebook. "This one?"

"No, the one next to it. On its side."

Stephanie pulled the book off the shelf and flipped it open. "Where do you mention-"

An explosion. The first bullet broke a huge chunk out of the blue-sky wall and sent fragments of cinder block raining through the room.

The second shattered a panel of glass in the ceiling.

The third tore apart a dozen books, which pitched through the air like shot birds.

The fourth caught Stephanie squarely in the chest as she was turning, shocked, mouth open, toward Rune.

There may even have been a fifth shot. And a sixth. Rune wasn't sure. She had no idea how many times she pulled the trigger of the gun-the one that Rune had pulled from the accordion folder she'd thrown away earlier-tossed into the trash can beside her bed.

All Rune saw was the smoke and dust and paper flecks and clouds and blue sky of concrete and broken glass flying through the loft around Stephanie-beautiful, pale Stephanie, who spiraled to the floor.

And all Rune heard was a huge ringing roar from the gun. Which, after a few seconds, as Richard scrambled from the floor and started toward her, was replaced by an animal's mad screaming she didn't even know was coming from her.

Head bowed at the altar, Rune was motionless. Kneeling. She'd thought she could remember all the words. But they wouldn't come to her and all she could do was repeat over and over again, in a mumbling whisper, "We yield thee praise and thanksgiving for our deliverance from those great and apparent dangers wherewith we were compassed."

After a moment she stood and walked slowly up the aisle toward the back of the sanctuary.

Still whispering, she said to the man wearing black minister's robes, "This is a totally radical church, Reverend."

"Thank you, Miss Kelly."

At the door, she turned and curtsied awkwardly toward the altar. The minister of St. Xavier's glanced at her curiously. Maybe curtsying-which Rune had just seen a character do in some old Mafia movie-was only for Catholics. But so what? she decided. Stephanie was right about one thing: short of devil worship and animal sacrifices, ministers and priests probably aren't all that sensitive about technicalities.

They left the sanctuary.

"Your grandfather didn't mention any children when he stayed with us in our residence. He said his only relative was his sister but she'd died a few years ago."

"Really?" she asked.

"But then," the minister continued, "he didn't talk much about himself. He was a bit mysterious in some ways."

Mysterious…

"Yep," she said after a moment. "That was Grandfather. We used to say that about him. 'Wasn't Grandfather quiet.' All of us would say it."

"All of you? I thought you said there were just two of you. You and your sister."

"Oh, well, I mean all the kids in the neighborhood. He was like a grandfather to them too."

Watch it, Rune told herself. It's a minister you're lying to. And a minister with a good memory.

She followed the man through the rectory building. Filled with dark wood, wrought iron. The small yellow lights added a lot of churchy atmosphere to the place, though maybe they used small-wattage bulbs just to save money. It was very… well, religious here. Rune tried to remember a good movie she'd seen about religion and couldn't think of one. They tended not to have happy endings.

They walked into a large dormitory, newer than the church, though the architecture was the same-stained glass, arches, flowery carvings. She looked around. It was some kind of residence hall for senior citizens. Rune glanced into a room as they passed. Two beds, yellow walls, mismatched dressers. Lots of pictures on the walls. Homier than you'd think. There were two elderly men inside the room. As she paused, looking in, one of the men stood up and said, " 'I am a very foolish fond old man, fourscore and upward, not an hour more or less, and, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.' "