Faye Kellerman - The Mercedes Coffin

Banks said, “I’m taking the bitch down to the lobby. I’ll tell you when you can come in.”

“You’ve got it.” He waited over the line as he heard a female voice plead for her life. She was sobbing and mewing and Decker wished she would just shut up. He didn’t want Banks to become unnerved. Finally, Rudy’s voice came through his cell. “You can come in. Do it slowly.”

Decker inched his way into the dark lobby. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the woman first, then the gun at her head, then someone taller in back. Curly dark hair with burning eyes. A square chin and high cheekbones. The same Rudy Banks he had seen on the Web, but with the look of a feral animal.

Rudy talked softly. His voice was surprisingly calm. “I just thought of something. If you’re in back of me, what’s stopping you from jumping me?”

“I won’t jump you. But if that plan makes you nervous, let the girl go and put the gun to my head.”

“Hard to do when you’re wearing a helmet.”

“I’m not going to take off the helmet. Let me repeat. You have the gun. I am unarmed.”

“You’re a big man. As soon as I let her go, you’re going for my gun.”

“If I was going to charge you, I would have come in with ten sharpshooters. I also know what it feels like to be shot. I’m not anxious to experience it again.”

“You’ve been shot before?”

“Twice.” Decker waited to hear his next move.

No one spoke for what seemed like eternity. Rudy weighed his options.

“I’m not going to let go of the girl. She’s the only protection I have against getting my head blown off.”

Decker tried to be as calm as he could. He didn’t know which girl Rudy had in his clutches. Not that it mattered. All Decker saw was the terror plastered across a frightened child. “Do whatever you want. For what it’s worth, I think it’s better for you if you let her go. Less chance for something getting fucked up. But you’re the boss.”

“Fucking A right about that.”

Decker’s mind was racing with a single thought: how to get the gun away from the girl’s head without either of them getting shot. If Banks got shot, while that wasn’t ideal, Decker could certainly live with that. He could make out the girl’s eyes-dilated and awash in fear. “What’s next, boss?”

“Down on your knees.”

That was not going to happen. Decker said, “If you’re going to shoot me, you’re going to shoot me standing up.”

“I’m not going to shoot you, but how do I know when I let her go, you’re not going to try to swipe the gun away.”

Decker took five steps backward. “I’m way out of your reach.”

After what seemed like hours…more like a few moments…Banks let go of the sobbing girl and she ran out of the lobby. Decker was now staring at the barrel of a Glock 11 mm semiautomatic. “Just you and me, boss.”

“Turn around.”

Decker said, “You’ve got to keep your eyes on me, but I’ve got to keep my eyes on you. If you get cranky and start peeling off rounds, I need to be able to duck.”

Silence.

“I’m not moving on you, Rudy.”

Banks’s arm was starting to shake. He propped it up with his free hand.

Decker said, “You’ll notice that we’ve been in here for what…five minutes and no one has stormed the place. It’s still just you and me.”

Rudy didn’t answer.

“All I have to do is phone and tell them we’re coming out,” Decker said. “That’s all I have to do. I promise you that none of our people want to fuck this up. Once you’re out of this sketchy situation, you’ll get your lawyer, you’ll get your bail, and you’re home drinking Scotch and watching the game on TV.”

“I fucking hate sports.”

“C’mon. You know what I’m saying. You’re a savvy guy, Rudy. You know how to work the media.” Decker tried to keep condescension out of his voice. “Show these stupid kids what badass really is.”

More silence.

The gun still aimed at his face.

Finally, Rudy whispered, “Make your call.”

“Smart,” Decker said. “Very smart.” He tried to work as quickly as he could before Banks could change his mind. “All set.”

Banks said, “We walk out slowly!”

Decker was shivering and sweating at the same time. “You better believe it.”

“You’re an idiot for coming in and making yourself a human shield.”

“I’m sure my wife would agree.”

“I think I’m a bigger idiot for trusting you.”

“At this point, the only option we have is to trust each other.”

“Are you going to get some kind of promotion for this?”

“Maybe I’ll get a bonus.”

“If we walk out alive.”

“Yeah, if we don’t, maybe my wife will get some insurance money.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! How the fuck did this happen?”

“I don’t know, Rudy. Hollywood called me down and told me you wanted to talk to me. That’s all I know.”

“You tell Hollywood that they’re fucking lunatics if they think they can slap me with Ekerling’s murder.”

“I will relay the message with all your sentiments.”

Banks exhaled, signifying resignation and/or fatigue. “Okay, let’s get this over with. You go first.”

“Rudy, you’re going to have to ditch the weapon. If they see the gun, they’re going to get nervous.”

Slowly Banks lowered the gun. Decker heard himself exhale audibly. “Smart. Put it down on the floor. Don’t kick it over to me. We don’t want anything to go off. Just gently put it down on the floor.”

Time crawled into second-hand ticks, but eventually Banks complied.

“Put your hands up and step away from the weapon.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“It’s almost over,” Decker soothed. “Raise your hands over your head, and we’ll walk out together.”

Banks cooperated.

“Perfectly done. You see, I’m not charging at you, I’m not doing anything stupid. I’m moving very slowly.”

Rudy didn’t answer.

Decker said, “You go first, but I’ll be right behind you.”

They inched their way out of the Sand Dune and stepped onto the porch. They were so close in proximity that Decker could smell Banks’s sour breath, hear his frantic pants with each intake of air. Dawn was palpable. Outside it had turned from black to gray. Visibility was a plus.

Seconds from victory. Just a few more steps.

They hadn’t gotten more than two paces forward when the single shot rang out. Immediately Decker dropped, covering his head and neck, trembling like a windblown aspen, not sure if the pain he felt was from the fire of a bullet or from his helmet knocking hard against the cold ground.

A surge of cops converged on him. He heard his own voice. It kept repeating, “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.” He shook off the bodies around him. “I’m fucking okay! Leave me alone!” Trembling from fear and adrenaline, he rubbed his arms and waited for his eyes to focus. He was still viewing his life with rods instead of cones. A slew of paramedics were kneeling on the lawn, working frantically at the spot where he had stood a few moments ago.

“What the fuck happened?” he heard his voice ask.

“Someone shot the bastard,” a disembodied voice told him.

“How the fuck did that happen?” Decker spun around and was staring at Cressly. “I was inches from the bastard. Whoever the fuck shot at him could have gotten me!”

“It wasn’t one of us-”

“Then who the fuck was…” It was then that Decker noticed a commotion off to the side. The cops wrestling someone to the ground. He ran to the spot.

Ryan Goldberg was facedown with a cop on his back, a gun to his head, and twenty cops ready to beat the shit out of him if he moved. His hands had been drawn behind his back and secured with a plastic tie. A pistol lay a few feet away from where he had been tackled.