Robert Crais - The Last Detective

When Myers opened the door, I pushed Fontenot hard into the room. Richard was haggard, with his hair sticking out as if he'd been running his hands over his head all afternoon. Even Myers looked beaten. Richard was holding his cell phone with both hands, like a bible.

"Get out. Get them out of here, Lee."

Pike heaved the bag into the middle of the floor.

"Look familiar?"

A smile flickered at the corner of Myers's mouth. He was probably relieved.

"I'd say they have the money and they know what we're doing."

Lucy came in behind Joe. Richard's eyes widened and he raked his hand across his head as if it had become a nervous tick.

"They don't know anything. Keep your mouth shut."

Myers stared at him.

"Richard, stop. It's time to stop before this mess gets worse. The wheels are coming off, Richard. Jesus Christ, wake up."

Lucy was as rigid as a statue. Her legs were tight together, her face closed. Her eyebrows were knitted so deeply that her eyes were hidden.

"You self-absorbed sonofabitch. Where is my son?"

Richard's eyes fluttered like two trapped moths. His mouth hung loose, as if he had aged a thousand years since yesterday. I didn't feel so angry any more; I felt empty, and worried for Ben.

Richard was so scared that I turned to Myers.

"What's Fallon doing, Myers? How are they playing this?"

Richard screamed.

" Shut up! "

Myers moved faster than I thought he could; he grabbed Richard by the shirt and bent him backwards toward the bed.

"They know. Get your head around it, Richard – they know . Now let's get back to business. Your son is waiting."

Myers shoved him away, then turned back to the black Tumi bag.

"That's three- point- two million, but they want five.

We tried to tell them, but, you know, no one ever believes you with something like this. DeNice was their answer."

Myers stepped around the money, then looked at me.

"Fallon knows what he's doing, Cole. He's been jamming us all day, pushing it forward to keep us off balance. We didn't even know it was happening until this morning. That's how fast it's been, just this one day. All of it started this morning."

"Where are you with it?"

"He gave us today to get the money, that's it. Just the one business day. Richard has to call them by nine. That's in eight minutes. Fallon told us not to bother calling after that. You know what he'll do after that."

Pike said, "You should have told the police."

Myers glanced at Richard, then shrugged.

Richard said, "They were supposed to take him away for a few days. He was supposed to watch videos and eat pizza until we came out, that's all it was supposed to be."

Lucy took a step toward him.

"You had him stolen, you asshole! You had your son kidnapped! And you didn't even love him enough to admit it or ask for help."

"I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to be this way. I'm sorry."

Lucy slapped him, then hit him with her fist. He didn't move, and he didn't try to protect himself. She hit Richard over and over again, grunting loudly with each effort – unh, unh, unh – like when she played tennis.

"Luce."

I caught her arms gently and eased her away.

Richard blubbered like a baby with snot running from his nose. Lucy had broken it. He slumped onto the edge of the bed, and sat there shaking his head.

"I don't have the money. I can't get it in time. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't."

Myers said, "We have four minutes."

Fontenot shook his head.

"He wants the money this bad, he'll wait. We can tell him it'll just be another hour, that the money is on the way. He'll go for it."

Pike spoke softly.

"No, he won't. He's pressing because that's how he controls the situation. He wants to keep you off balance.

He won't give you time to think. He wants the money, but he also wants to survive the mission, and that means he will not let you stall. He planned the operation, and now he's working the plan. He'll do what he said he would do, and then he'll disappear."

Fontenot said, "Jesus Christ, you make it sound like he's in a war."

Richard rubbed his face. His fingers went through his hair. He seemed calmer now, but still nervous.

"I don't know what to do. I don't have the money."

I looked at Myers again.

"What's supposed to happen if you had the money?"

"He would tell us where to meet them, then we'd trade the money for Ben."

I looked at the Tumi bag. It was a big bag because three million dollars took up a lot of room, but five million would take up almost twice as much.

I went over to the bed and sat beside Richard. We stared at each other for a moment, and then he glanced away.

I said, "Do you love him?"

Richard nodded.

"I love him, too."

Richard blinked a bit, and his eyes filled with sorrow. His voice was hoarse.

"You can't know how much I hate you."

"I know, but now we're going to save Ben together."

"Haven't you been listening? I already offered them the three million, but they wouldn't take it. They want five. They said it's five or nothing, and I don't have that much. I can't get it. I don't know what to tell them."

I put the hotel phone into his hands.

"Do what you do best, Richard. Lie. Tell them that you have all five million and that you're ready to trade for your son."

Richard stared at the phone, and then he dialed.

time missing: 52 hours, 38 minutes

Richard made the call at exactly nine P.M. and he was convincing. Myers and I listened on the extension. Fallon told Richard to bring the money to the west end of Santa Monica Airport. He told Richard to bring it alone.

Myers and I both shook our heads.

Richard's voice shook when he answered.

"No goddamned way. Myers is coming. It'll be just us, and you'd better have Ben. If Ben's not there, I'll call the police. I should call the police anyway."

"Is Myers listening?"

"I'm here, you prick."

"It's the west end of the airport on the south side. Drive past the hangars and stop. Get out of your car but stay next to it, and wait."

Myers said, "No boy, no money. You won't even get close to the money unless we see the boy."

"I just want the money. Stop, get out of your car, and you'll see me when I want you to see me. I won't be close to you, but you'll see me. When you see me, call this number again. Do you understand?"

"I'll call you when I see you."

"Guess what happens if I see anyone else?"

"I don't have to guess."

"That's right. You don't. Fifteen minutes."

Fallon hung up.

Richard put down his phone and looked at me.

"What do we do?"

"Exactly what he told you to do. We'll do the rest."

Pike and I left at a dead run. We knew that Fallon was probably already at the airport and would be set up so that he could see Richard approach and watch for the police. Speed was everything. We had to get to the airport before Richard, we had to stay out of sight, and we had to come at Fallon in a way he didn't expect.

I drove fast, and so did Pike, the two of us rat-racing across the city.

Sunset Boulevard glowed with violet-blue light that rippled and shimmered on the hood of my Corvette. The cars we raced past were frozen in place, their tail lights stretched in front of us like liquid red streaks. I couldn't shift hard enough, I couldn't drive fast enough. We screamed across Westwood into Brentwood, and then toward the sea.

Santa Monica Airport was a nice little place, one lonely airstrip built during a time when inland Santa Monica was mostly clover fields and cows, north of LAX and west of the 405. The city grew up around it, and now the airfield was surrounded by homeowners and businesses who hated the noise and lived in fear of a crash. You could get a good hamburger there, and sit on benches across from the tower to watch the airplanes take off and land. Ben and I had done that more than once.