Дэвид Балдаччи - Daylight

Pine heard Axilrod chortle. “Time enough for that, lover boy.”

“It was cool you came to stay with me,” said Vincenzo.

“Someone has to watch over you.”

“I can take care of myself, okay?” His tone was not joking now.

“Those two cops were talking to your father in prison. Maybe he told them something.”

“He had nothing to tell,” replied Vincenzo.

“Come on, Tony, you told me you went to visit your old man. What did you tell him?”

Pine edged forward a bit. She didn’t like how this conversation was going. Axilrod was digging for info, and Vincenzo sounded like he was totally missing what the woman was doing.

“I don’t know, just stuff. Stop with the third degree, okay?”

She snapped, “My ass is on the line here, too. I need to know what’s going on.”

“I’m the one that got chased by this FBI chick.”

“Right, Atlee Pine. She’s definitely trouble.”

“But you took care of that, you said.”

“She killed Sheila, Tony. I told you that.”

“Cops can’t go around killing people and get away with it.”

“It’s the system, Tony. They cover for each other. Cops can kill people and there’s no blowback for them.”

“ ‘Blowback’? Where’d you hear that word, Lindsey? You sound like a spy.”

“The point is, Tony, things are getting tight here.”

“You should let me get to know the people you’re working with.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I can help them, Lindsey. And I want to move up in the chain, okay? I don’t always want to be the low man on the totem pole.”

“Why so ambitious?”

“Look at my old man. He spent his life in the trenches, doing his own shit, carrying his own water. So when things went sideways, there he was; the cops grabbed him no problem. I’m thinking that a few layers between me and them is a good thing.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right about that,” conceded Axilrod. “Let me think on it.”

On the stairs, Pine’s hand slipped to her pistol.

Vincenzo said, “Hell, maybe I can buy one of those penthouses one day.”

“The penthouse is off-limits until further notice,” she said sharply.

“Shit, why? I like that place. And the cops don’t go there.”

“Pine did. She went in undercover and almost wrecked the place. I had to think fast to get around that. So it’s a no-go.”

“So is it really just a perk, the penthouse, I mean?”

“I’m not following.”

Vincenzo said, “I mean, it’s a pretty expensive benefit if it is just that. I know the pill business is good and all. But you gotta push a shitload of it just to pay the monthly fees on that place.”

“That’s not your problem to worry about. And you’re not the only pipeline out there.”

“That’s what I figured. Those guys probably have crews operating all around the New York and New Jersey metro areas. Probably coming up from Mexico and stuff, right?”

“Something like that.”

“So maybe you can introduce me?”

“Sounds good. Now, why don’t you go shower and I’ll get to work on dinner?”

“Sounds good, babe. And then after dinner?”

“Sure, Tony, sure. Whatever my man wants.”

He slapped her playfully on the butt and then went upstairs.

Axilrod waited for the shower to start. Then she made a phone call.

“You were right, he’s getting to be a problem,” she said. Axilrod listened for a few moments. “Yeah, I understand. After it’s over, you know what to do.”

She put the phone away and slipped a syringe from her purse. She reached the bathroom and slowly opened the door. Steam had filled the room. She readied the needle, holding it in front of her like a knife.

She reached the shower curtain, steeled herself, threw aside the curtain, and raised the needle high to strike.

Only there was no one there. The shower was empty, the water simply running.

She whirled around to see a bare-chested Tony standing there.

And behind him and holding her gun to his head was Pine.

“Hey, Lindsey. I was really hoping we’d run into each other again. Now, put down the syringe you were going to use to kill Tony, and let’s have a chat, babe .”

Finally.

Blum stirred as both Adam Gorman and Nora Franklin came out of the building together. Blum hailed a cab right as a sleek black Mercedes-Maybach slid up to the pair and Gorman held the door for Franklin. He climbed in after her.

The cabbie, who was in his fifties and wearing a white turban and a maroon bindi on his forehead, turned to Blum and said, “Where do you want to go, ma’am?”

“I want to go wherever that Mercedes up there goes,” she said, pointing to the vehicle as it pulled away from the curb.

“What is it that you mean by that?” said the man in a thick accent, which forced Blum to listen closely.

“I just mean to follow that car,” said Blum.

He turned back around, whipped out into traffic, and settled in two cars behind the Maybach.

“Why do you follow them?” the cabbie asked.

“It’s my job.”

“Are you police?”

“I’m with the FBI.”

“You are too old,” he said dismissively. “You are older than me.”

Blum took out her FBI ID card and held it up. The F, B , and I were quite prominent.

“Is this sufficient?” she asked him.

He turned to look at her again.

“Do you have a gun?” “Do you want to find out?”

He pivoted back around and made a left to follow the Maybach.

“Are those criminals up there?”

“They could very well be. That’s what I’m trying to find out. Do you know the city well? I don’t want to lose them.”

“I have been in this country for ten years. I have driven cab for nine years all over this city.”

“Is that when you came to this country, ten years ago?”

“Yes. But in Pakistan I was a doctor, not a taxi driver.”

He turned the cab right as they followed the Maybach. “What will you do when they arrive at their destination?”

“I’ll continue to watch them.”

“Should you call the police?”

“No, it’s not time for that. Not yet.”

“You must find this work exciting.”

“Sometimes it’s too exciting. Sometimes it’s incredibly boring. I’ve spent the last several hours drinking so much coffee I never want to touch it again.”

“Yes, I can see how that might be.”

He pulled up behind the car.

“Don’t get too close,” Blum warned.

“Every yellow taxi looks like every other yellow taxi.”

“But they might see you.”

“We all wear the turban. We all have the bindi. We all are either doctors or engineers who drive taxis.” He glanced back at her. “Are those people dangerous?” he asked.

“One of them has shown himself to be very dangerous,” replied Blum, keeping her gaze on the Maybach.

“That is not good. People like that are not good.”

“I agree.”

“I do not like it that you are following such people. You are a nice lady and they are dangerous people.”

“Don’t worry. I have other people supporting me who are not afraid of people like that.”

“It is nice to have such people.”

“I’ve always thought so.”

Thirty city blocks later, the Maybach stopped in front of a hotel in a very upscale section of Manhattan. It wasn’t Billionaires’ Row, but it was close.

As Blum paid her fare, the cabbie told her, “You must be very careful now. I will no longer be with you.”

“I will be very careful. Luckily, neither of them has ever met me.”

“I wish you good fortune.”

“Thank you.”