Джеймс Паттерсон - The Black Book

Then I heard it behind me, the sound of the gun releasing from Amy, the soft plunk as it fell onto the nearby bed. I saw it in Kate’s eyes, too, that hint of relaxation.

But only a hint. Kate was keyed up, her eyes on fire.

Amy wasn’t sobbing anymore, either. I had my back to her, but I knew she was no longer upset. The only emotion she was experiencing now was pure terror.

“Both of you, against that wall.” Kate motioned with the gun. We complied, moving to the far wall. Kate retrieved my weapon off the bed, training two guns on us now. Then she shuffled back toward the doorway and gave us another command, the smart move, the one I would make if I were giving the orders.

“Both of you, on the bed,” she said.

I took the lead, sitting down on the edge of the bed. I hoped that would be enough. But again, if Kate was smart—and she was—it wouldn’t satisfy her.

“Scootch back all the way on the bed,” she said. “Back against the headboard, hands on your thighs, feet on the bed, ankles crossed.”

That was the smart move. Make us as immobile as possible. We couldn’t rush her this way. In the time it took us to uncross our ankles, push ourselves off the bed, drop our feet down on the carpet, and make a move toward her, she’d have time to empty her magazine and probably reload. She had us completely under her control.

Amy and I sitting on the bed, Kate standing at the opposite end of the small bedroom. I had nothing for a weapon other than my phone, which I put next to me on the bed. I wasn’t a good enough aim to skull her with it, and even if I succeeded, it wouldn’t do more than momentarily stun her. She’d recover in time to riddle me with bullets.

Satisfied that we were sufficiently subdued, Kate lowered the guns in her hands.

“Was she a part of it, too?” Kate asked me, gesturing toward Amy.

“A part of what?” I asked, though it wasn’t hard to tell what she meant.

“The bribes. The payoffs. I know it was you, Billy.”

“It wasn’t.” But I remembered what Amy had said to me. It was your name in the little black book. “Somebody set me up,” I said.

Kate glared at me, worked her jaw. “It’s gonna be like that, is it? Just deny everything up and down?”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” I said. “Don’t turn this around. It was you, Kate.”

Her face showed no sign of anything but disgust. “I trusted you,” she said. “I fucking loved you, Billy.”

With those words, her expression broke. She didn’t cry, but she choked up nice and good, the fire still in her eyes but now showing real pain.

She took a deep breath and said, “You’re under arrest, Billy Harney.”

It didn’t register with me. It didn’t make sense.

She was going to… arrest me?

That’s when I knew.

Kate wasn’t the dirty cop.

If she were, I’d be dead. Amy and I both. Arresting me made no sense. I could still fight back. I could hire a lawyer and prove my innocence. I could prove that she was the dirty cop, not me. If she had been the dirty cop, she would have killed me, just as she killed Ramona Dillavou and Camel Coat—whatever she needed to do to maintain her cover-up.

It wasn’t Amy, and it wasn’t Kate.

And it sure as hell wasn’t me.

“Kate,” I said, “listen—”

And then we all listened, we all heard it. The soft click of Amy’s front door opening.

Kate’s head whipped to the right, surprised.

Then not surprised.

“What are you doing here?” she said to whoever it was.

With Kate momentarily distracted, I reached for my phone, held it in my hand. Using it as a weapon felt like a million-to-one shot.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t use it in other ways.

I heard his voice from the living room.

And I dropped my phone back on the bed, just before Lieutenant Mike Goldberger walked into the bedroom.

One Hundred One

KATE TOOK a step back to clear some space as Goldie walked into the room.

My mouth opened, but I couldn’t speak.

“Nobody’s arresting anybody,” he said. “We just need to talk this out.”

He seemed almost amused, seeing me and Amy lying on the bed, our feet up and legs crossed. He looked at Kate. “Oh, put the guns away, for Christ’s sake,” he said. “This is Billy we’re talking about. I’m sure he can explain this.”

Kate lowered her weapon to her side. Goldie took my gun from Kate.

“That’s better,” he said. He walked over to the windowsill and punched out the music on the iPad. “That damn music,” he said. “Drowned out a perfectly good recording device.”

Then Goldie walked toward the bed, facing me, his back to Kate. “So Billy,” he said. “Let’s figure this out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” said Kate. “I’m taking him in, Goldie.”

“No, you’re not, Katie.”

“The fuck I’m not.”

Goldie looked at me. He heaved a deep sigh.

Then he spun and aimed my gun at Kate. He fired a single shot. Kate had no chance to react. The bullet hit her above the right eye. She dropped in her tracks, falling to the carpet.

Amy let out a horrified gasp and reached for me. I drew her in. I didn’t know—I didn’t know what to—

Goldie spun back around, probably to make sure I wasn’t making a move on him.

“I can’t believe…” I tried to say. “I can’t…”

“You can’t what? I’m cleaning up your mess, pal. Because you wouldn’t leave well enough alone.”

Everything was racing through my mind. Trying to fit together pieces of a puzzle that hurled at me from all directions—

“It was you,” I said. “You set me up. You made Kate believe it was me.”

“I…needed to keep Kate guessing, yeah,” he said. “But I wasn’t gonna let this fall on you.” He angles his head. “I admit I didn’t expect her to come here on her own and try to arrest you. We can’t have that. Nobody arrests nobody. Keep the whole thing a mystery, am I right?”

I moved forward on the bed, enough to shield Amy, who couldn’t speak, who was shaking uncontrollably.

“You’ll never get away with this,” I said.

“Get away with what?” he answered. “My name’s not in the little black book. And this thing with Kate? Hey, I was never here.” His smile never reached his cold eyes, appearing and disappearing from his lips. “Here’s what happened, Detective, and listen carefully, because your life depends on it.” He raised a hand. “Kate walked in and caught you and Amy together. She was jealous. She pulled out her gun to kill you both, but you got off a shot first. You killed her in self-defense.” He looked down at Kate. “That’s a story everyone will believe. I’ll make sure they believe it. They won’t even charge you.”

He walked back over to the bed, watching Amy and me.

“And Ramona Dillavou?” I said. “And Joe Washington?”

His head bobbed back and forth. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. But they won’t come back to me, either, my friend. If you push things, I think what you’ll find is that those murders will come back to you .”

“You framed me for those, too?”

He shrugged. “Insurance,” he said. “In case you got too nosy. I don’t want you in prison, pal. I want you by my side.”

My mind was racing, looking for angles, anything. We were sitting ducks on this bed, unarmed and unable to make any meaningful attempt at fighting back.

“So that’s out of the way,” he said. “Then there’s the matter of the little black book. Somebody took a copy from Margaret Olson’s safe last night. And Margaret tells me that only one person had a key to her office, and that same person knew that Margaret had a safe hidden underneath her desk.”