Jeffery Deaver - A Maiden's Grave

"Right," Potter continued. "He's the enemy. We don't sanction violence and therefore he's doing something wrong. But you should explain that you understand why he feels the way he does. Got it? Don't ramble. You have to be aware of how you sound and how fast you're talking. I'll tell you right now you'll be going way too fast. Make a conscious effort to talk slowly and deliberately. To you it'll feel like you're underwater."

Angie said, "If you ask him a question and he doesn't respond just let the silence run up. Don't let pauses rattle you."

"Don't let him manipulate you. He'll do it intentionally and subconsciously – using threats, fast speech, craziness, and silence. Just keep your mind on your goal." Again Potter, rather solemnly this time, tapped the yellow paper. "Most important, don't let him get to you. Let him rant and say terrible things but don't get shook up. Let him laugh at you. Let him insult you. It rolls off you. You're above it all." Potter leaned forward and whispered, "He might tell you he's going to kill all those girls. He may even fire the gun off and let you think he's shot someone. He might tell you he's going to torture them or rape them. Don't let it affect you."

"What do I say?" Budd said desperately. "If he says that, what do I say?"

"It's best not to say anything at all. If you feel compelled to respond you say simply that it wouldn't be in the best interests of a solution to do that."

"Oh, brother."

Potter looked at his watch. "Let's get this show on the road. Ready?" Potter asked.

The young captain nodded.

"Push button one."

"What?"

"It's on speed dial," Tobe explained. "Push number one."

"And then I just talk to him?"

"You understand the script?" Potter asked.

Budd nodded again. Potter pointed to the phone. "Oh, brother." He reached for the phone, dialed. "Uplink," Tobe whispered.

"Hey. How you doing, Art?" The voice came through the speakers above their heads. Handy seemed to be smirking.

"This is Charlie Budd. Is this Lou Handy?"

"The fuck're you?"

Budd's eyes were on the sheet in front of him. "I'm with the U.S. attorney's office."

"The hell you say."

"I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes."

"Where's Art?"

"He's not here."

"What the fuck's going on?"

Budd swallowed. Come on, Charlie, Potter thought. No time for stage fright. He tapped the pad before Budd. "Going on?" the captain echoed. "What do you mean?"

"I only want to talk to him ."

"To who?"

"Art Potter. Who the fuck do you think?"

Budd took a deep breath. "Well, why don'tcha talk to me? I'm not such a bad guy."

"U.S. attorney?"

"That's right. I want to talk to you about surrendering." Slow down , Potter wrote.

"Oh, a shyster with a sense of humor. Well, fuck you."

Budd's face was relaxing. "Hey, don'tcha like lawyers?"

"I love 'em."

Budd said, "You wanta hear a joke, Lou?" Potter and LeBow looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

"Sure, Charlie."

"A woman goes to her gynecologist and asks can somebody get pregnant by having anal sex. And the doctor says sure you can, where do you think lawyers come from?"

Handy roared with laughter. Budd's face burned crimson.

Potter had never in twenty years of negotiating shared a joke with a taker. Maybe he'd rewrite his instruction book.

Budd continued. "Arthur's seeing about getting you some helicopter or 'nother. Something about pontoons. It should be here soon."

"It fucking well better be here in one hour and twenty fucking minutes."

"Well, all I know is, Lou, he's doing what he can. But look here, even if you get the chopper they're gonna find you sooner or later." Budd stared at the sheet in front of him. "Soon as somebody finds out who you are, the fact you shot a girl in the back, you know what'll happen. They'll collar you and somehow you'll be riding in the back of a meat wagon and some accident'll happen."

"You threatening me?"

"Hell, no. I'm trying to save you. I'm just saying the way it is. The way you know it is."

"Ain't nobody gonna find me. So fuck that surrender shit. It ain't gonna happen. You assholes'll have to come in and get me 'fore I'd do that. And you'd find me atop six dead hostages."

Potter pointed to the pictures of the twins. LeBow frowned. Why didn't Handy know they were gone?

Budd continued, "Listen, Lou, we can offer you a deal."

"A deal? What kind of deal?"

"Some immunity. Not complete, but -"

"You know what I done here?"

"What you've done?" Echoing like a pro, Potter thought.

"I killed me a few people today. We're not talking immunity, we're talking… what the fuck's that thing priests give you?"

Budd looked up at Potter, who whispered, "Dispensation."

"Dispensation."

"So I don't think so, Charlie the butt-fucked lawyer. I think I need a helicopter or I'm going to turn my good friend Bonner here loose on a girl or two. You know Bonner? He stays hard twenty-four hours a day. Re-fucking-markable. Never seen anybody like him. You should've seen him in prison. Kid comes in for GTA and, bang, there's Bonner next to him 'fore the fingerprints're dry, saying, 'Bend over, pretty boy. Spread 'em.' "

Potter clamped his hand down on Budd's arm, seeing the anguish in his face. He tapped the yellow sheet once more.

"Where's Art?" Handy said suddenly. "I like him better'n you."

"He's out rustling up your helicopter, like I said."

"Fuck if he isn't listening to this right now on the squawk box. How close is he? He could probably stick his dick in your mouth without either of you moving. Hey, you a faggot, Charlie? Sound like one to me."

Budd adjusted his grip on the phone. "Agent Potter's trying to get you what you've been asking for."

They died because they didn't give me what I wanted . Potter nodded approval.

"I want that chopper or Bonner gets a girl."

"You don't need to do that, Lou. Come on. We're all working together here, aren't we?"

"Oh, I wasn't on your team last time I looked, Charlie." Budd wiped sweat from his forehead. Potter, feeling very much like an orchestra conductor, gestured at Budd and pointed to a portion of the yellow sheet.

"My team?" Budd responded. "Hey now, that's wrong, Lou. I am on your team. And I want to offer you a deal. You and Wilcox."

Potter held his finger to his lips, indicating for Budd to pause. The captain swallowed. Angie handed him a cup of water. He drank it down, gave her a rueful smile. Handy was silent.

Budd started to speak; Potter shook his head. Finally Handy said, "Me and Shep?"

"That's right."

Cautiously: "What kinda deal?"

Budd looked down at the sheet. "We'll go for life only. No death penalty."

"For us two?"

Potter heard the uncertainty in Handy's voice. Beautiful, he thought. For the first time all night he's not sure what's going on. He gave Budd a thumbs-up.

"Just you and Wilcox," he said firmly.

"What about Bonner?"

Potter held up his wavering hands, indicating uncertainty.

"Well, I'm just talking about you two."

"Why aren't you talking about Bonner?"

Potter frowned angrily. Budd nodded and in a testy voice said, "Because I don't want to talk about Bonner. I'm offering you and Wilcox a deal."

"You're an asshole, Charlie."

"An asshole?"

"You're not telling me everything."

Potter touched his lips.

Silence.

Perfect, thought Potter. He's doing great. Finally he nodded to Budd.

"I am telling you everything." Budd gave up on the yellow sheet and stared out the window at the slaughterhouse. "And I'm telling it to you for your benefit as much as anybody's. You oughta surrender, sir. Even if you get out of here in that helicopter you'll be the most wanted man in North America. Your life's gonna be pure hell and if you get caught you'll get death. You know that. No statute of limitations for murder."