Neil Olson - The Icon

Again, she wheeled and went the other way. Five Asian tourists stared in wonder at one of the dazzling blue-and-green peacocks that roamed the grounds. Cameras whirred; a little girl shrieked with pleasure. Ana saw no safety among them and pushed on. To her right, steps and a broad path dropped away to a lower lane that led back to the avenue, but it was roundabout and she would be visible the whole way. She risked a look back and immediately felt like a fool. The square young man was embracing a woman and walking off arm in arm with her. Panic had sent her the wrong way. Jan emerged from around the corner of the sacristy a moment later, smiling and waving, like a friend asking her to wait up. Ana paused in confusion. She was jumpy as hell, had been since she arrived. Had she gotten it all wrong? Would Jan apologize now for the old man’s impertinence? Had she misread the whole situation? Too flustered to reason, she simply stood there as he drew closer.

The bearded man appeared behind Jan, and he did not smile or wave but bore down on them with a fierce energy. Released from her daze, Ana turned and moved off again, to the end of the lane: enclosed gardens on the left and right, the stone Cathedral School before her, and between the school and gardens a narrow path that seemed as if it must run out to Morningside Drive in either direction. She turned left instinctively, down the passage between walls.

Clearing the corner of the building, she saw her mistake. The greensward between the school and the rear of the cathedral was closed off from the street by a high chain-link fence; she would never get over it. There was no time to reverse. Like a child, she looked for a place to hide among the dense bushes. No, that wouldn’t do. Letting herself be trapped in an empty corner of the grounds would be exactly what they wanted. Meeting them in the open was her best chance. She raced back up the path.

Jan leaned casually against the stone wall of the north garden, smoking. He stood away from the wall as she approached, but made no move toward her.

“Ms. Kessler, you will exhaust both of us. I think there has been a misunderstanding.”

There was room to get past him, but she somehow knew he would be fast. An old woman’s hat bobbed in the garden. The Asian family had gone.

“Whose misunderstanding? Your boss threatened me.” She could not keep a slight quaver out of her voice.

“Threatened you?” Jan seemed amused by the idea. “With what, death by boredom? He only wants to talk.”

“Yes, by force if necessary. He’s got some wrong idea that he wants me to confirm. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“He has become quite a difficult fellow, it’s true. Stubborn, and his manners are appalling. We have discussed this, he and I. I’m sorry if he frightened you. I really don’t mean to make light of it, but he is just a harmless old man. Please come back and speak to him. I’m sure that he feels terrible.”

He had moved closer to her, without seeming to move at all, and she began to make a slow half-circle around him.

“I’m not going anywhere with him.”

“Of course not. We simply don’t want to part on bad terms.”

They walked parallel now, back the way they had come. Ana let herself relax a little.

“I’m going down to the street. If he wants to come out to the sidewalk and say good-bye, that’s fine.”

“The sidewalk will do. I’ll bring him by in the car and you can speak through the window.”

Jan was interrupted by a large figure lumbering out of the garden and colliding with him. The bearded man. Words were spoken, quickly, softly. The two did a little dance, and Jan swung his arm to fend the other off. There was a heavy clatter and the large man sank to his knees.

Ana took a step or two back, grasping at comprehension. There had been some swift, violent exchange right in front of her, too fast to see. The bearded man gripped his left forearm with his right hand, dark blood staining the sleeve of his jacket and welling up between his fingers. On the pavement before him lay a large black pistol, a little closer to him than it was to the still-standing Jan. Neither man moved for a few seconds.

“Ms. Kessler,” said the man on his knees, never taking his eyes off the Dutchman. “Please step away.”

Ana’s legs felt as heavy as lead. She tried to take in what was happening. Jan’s expression remained placid, but she could see his eyes gauging the distance to the weapon, the man, her. She also saw several inches of steel blade protruding from his right hand, held close against his leg.

“You will note,” Jan countered, “that this man assaulted me. I merely protected myself.”

“Ana,” said the bearded man, urgently, “Matthew asked me to watch you. Do as I say. Step well away from us.”

She stepped back several yards. She had the impression that the man on the ground, though pained by his wound, was not distracted by it. That he had sunk to his knees only to get closer to his fallen weapon. Now it was a standoff. Neither could reach the gun without exposing himself to a blow by the other, yet neither could withdraw and give up the gun to his opponent. Ana looked around for some figure of authority to break this up.

Then Jan was backing off, not down the lane but up the garden path, his free hand held close to his chest, as if ready to reach inside his jacket, but not doing so. The other man shifted closer to the pistol, even stretched his hand out, but made an equal show of doing no more.

“Ms. Kessler,” Jan said. “I’m sorry to see our business concluded this way. Please keep an open mind. And be careful of this man, he is clearly dangerous. In fact, I will wait a bit if you would like to leave now unhindered.”

How nice of both of them to worry so much about her.

“I think you better go, Jan. Before something worse happens.”

“Very well.” He smiled at her. “Do take care.”

He did not go right, into the garden, but continued up the path and through an archway in the brick wall that Ana had not even realized was there. Vanished, God knew where.

The bearded one was on his feet with the gun instantly, staring long at the archway, then all around them, ignoring Ana.

“You’re bleeding pretty badly,” she said.

He glanced at his soaked sleeve and nodded.

“Stupid. I didn’t know he would be so quick.”

“Were you trying to kill him?”

“No. That would have been easy, he was completely focused on you. I was trying to take him, but he was too fast. Lucky he didn’t kill me. I’m Benny, by the way. Sorry about this.”

He still barely looked at her. She realized that she should fear him, but did not, whether from instinct or from emotional exhaustion, she couldn’t say.

“Did Matthew really send you?”

“No, his grandfather, but on Matthew’s behalf. I guess the boy loves you or something.”

Ana felt dizzy, then nauseated. The shock hitting her, no doubt. She wanted to sit down on the pavement and cry.

“We should go,” Benny advised. “We can get a cab at a Hundred-tenth.”

“Where are we going?”

“To a hospital, first. Then someplace where we can keep you safe. You’ve stirred up some unfortunate interest.”

20

T he platform was emptier than he would have liked. Matthew made it a point not to take the subway late at night, but getting a cab near Grand Central had become impossible, and his feet naturally guided him down the long staircase and through the turnstile. A smattering of people were on the upper level, coming up from the trains or heading west down the wide passage to the Times Square shuttle. He descended to the uptown platform, to find almost no one there. Just a very large homeless man in a filthy red bandanna, muttering to himself. Anxious and sleep-deprived, Matthew wandered north along the dirty concrete.