Robin Cook - Blindsight

With time to think, Lou tried to review the facts of the case. He had a hard time getting past Dr. Jordan Scheffield’s personality. God, how he hated the guy. And it wasn’t just because of Laurie, although there was that. The guy was so smug and condescending. He was surprised Laurie didn’t see it.

Suddenly the car behind Lou’s rammed into his. His head snapped back, then forward. In a fit of anger, Lou jammed on the emergency brake and leaped out. The guy behind him had gotten out, too. Lou was chagrined to see that the man was at least two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle.

“Watch where you’re going,” Lou said, shaking his finger. He walked around to check the back of his Caprice. There was a bit of paint from the guy’s car on his bumper. He could have played tough cop but he chose not to. He rarely did; it took too much effort.

“Sorry, man,” the other driver said.

“No harm done,” Lou said. He got back into the car. Inching forward in the traffic, he turned his head to the left and right. He hoped he wouldn’t suffer any whiplash.

Suddenly the glimmer of an idea started to take shape in Lou’s head. Getting hit had worked some sense into him. How could he not have seen? For a moment he stared into space, mesmerized by the solution that had crystallized so suddenly in his brain. He was so deep in thought, the big guy behind him had to beep to get him to move ahead.

“Holy crap,” Lou said aloud. He wondered why it had not occurred to him before. As hideously outlandish as it was, all the facts seemed to fit.

Snapping up his cellular phone, he tried Laurie at the medical examiner’s office. The operator told him she’d been terminated.

“What?” Lou demanded.

“She’s been fired,” the operator said and hung up.

Lou quickly dialed Laurie’s home number. He kicked himself for not having tried to call her earlier to find out what had happened when she saw her chief. Obviously the meeting had not gone well.

Lou was disappointed to get Laurie’s answering machine. He left a message for her to call him ASAP at the office and if not there, at home.

Lou hung up the phone. He felt badly for Laurie. Losing her job had to have been an enormous blow for her. She was one of those rare people who liked her job as much as Lou liked his.

“There she is!” Tony cried. He gave Angelo a shove to wake him up.

Angelo shook his head, then squinted through the windshield. It had gotten dark during the short time he’d been asleep. His mind felt fuzzy. But he could see the woman Tony was pointing at. She was only ten feet from her building and heading for the door.

“Let’s go,” Angelo said. He piled out of the car, then almost fell on his face. His left leg had gone to sleep in the weird position he’d assumed when he’d closed his eyes.

Tony was significantly ahead as Angelo tried to run on a leg that felt more like wood than bones and muscle. By the time he got to the door, the leg was feeling like pins and needles from the crotch down. He pulled open the door to see Tony already conversing with the woman.

“We want to talk with you down at the station,” Tony was saying, trying to imitate Angelo.

Angelo could see that he was holding his badge too high so that Laurie Montgomery could read what it said if she so chose.

Angelo pulled Tony’s arm down and smiled. He noticed that Laurie was as good-looking a woman as Tony had guessed from the photo.

“We’d like to talk to you just for a few moments,” Angelo said. “Purely routine. We’ll have you back here in less than an hour. It has to do with the medical examiner’s office.”

“I don’t have to go anyplace with you.”

“I don’t think you want to create a scene,” Angelo said.

“I don’t even have to talk with you.”

Angelo could tell Laurie was not going to be an easy broad. “I’m afraid we have to insist,” he said calmly.

“I don’t even recognize you men. What precinct are you from?”

Angelo cast a quick glance over his shoulder. No one was coming into the building. This pickup was going to take force. Angelo glanced at Tony and gave a tiny nod.

Getting the message, Tony reached into his jacket and pulled out his Beretta Bantam. He pointed it at Laurie.

Angelo winced as Laurie let out an ear-piercing scream that could have awakened the dead as far away as Saint John’s Cemetery in Rego Park.

With his free hand, Tony reached out and grabbed Laurie by the neck, intending to force her to the car. Instead, he got a briefcase in the groin. He doubled over in pain. As soon as he straightened back up, Tony pointed his gun at the woman’s chest and fired two quick shots. Laurie went down instantly.

The shots were deafening; Tony hadn’t put his silencer on, not thinking he’d have to resort to force. The smell of cordite hung in the air.

“What the hell did you shoot her for?” Angelo demanded. “We were supposed to bring her in alive.”

“I lost my head,” Tony said. “She hit me in the nuts with her goddamn briefcase.”

“Let’s get her the hell out of here,” Angelo ordered.

Together they each grabbed one of Laurie’s arms. Angelo bent down and grabbed her briefcase. Then the two men half-dragged, half-carried Laurie’s lifeless body to their car. Dead or alive, they could still get her to the Montego Bay .

As quickly as possible they shoved her into the backseat of the car. A few pedestrians eyed them suspiciously, but no one said anything. Tony climbed in beside her while Angelo jumped into the front seat and started the car. As soon as the engine responded, he pulled out into Nineteenth Street.

“She better not be bleeding on that upholstery,” Angelo said, glancing in the rearview mirror. He could see Tony struggling with the body. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to get her purse out from under her,” Tony said. He grunted. “It’s like she’s got a death grip on it, as if it matters at this point.”

“She dead?” Angelo asked. He was still furious.

“She hasn’t moved,” Tony said. “Ah, got it!” He held up the purse as if it were a trophy.

“If Cerino asks me what happened,” Angelo snapped, “I’m going to have to tell him.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony said. “I told you. I lost my head. Hey, look at this! This broad is loaded.” He waved a handful of twenties that he pulled from a wallet.

“Just keep her out of view,” said Angelo.

“Oh, no!” Tony cried.

“What’s the matter now?” Angelo demanded.

“This chick isn’t Laurie Montgomery,” Tony said, looking up from a piece of identification. “It’s a Maureen Wharton, an Assistant D.A. But she looks just like that photo.” Tony leaned forward and picked up the newspaper with Laurie’s photo. Brushing Maureen’s hair to the side, he compared her face to the one in the photo. “Well, it’s pretty close,” he said.

Angelo gripped the steering wheel so hard that the blood drained from his hand. He was going to have to tell Cerino about Tony whether he asked or not. Because of Tony they had whacked the wrong woman, an Assistant D.A., no less. This kid was driving him berserk.

“It’s me-Ponti,” Franco said. He’d put a call through to Vinnie Dominick. “I’m in the car heading for the tunnel. I just wanted you to know that I just watched the two guys we’ve discussed hit another young woman in broad daylight. It’s crazy. It makes no sense.”

“I’m glad you called,” Vinnie said. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. That snitch you set me up with, that friend of a friend of Tony Ruggerio’s girlfriend, just clued me in. He knows what they’re doing. It’s unbelievable. You’d never have figured it out.”