William Bernhardt - Double Jeopardy

“Good point.”

“Maybe the guy just has connections to the CIA. Or the military. Access to their equipment.”

“An unpleasant possibility.”

“Yeah.” Cavanaugh looked down at her lap and fidgeted with her fingers. “I wanted to thank you, Byrne. For … you know. Bailing me out of that.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, I want to mention it. The truth is, I’ve been kind of … well, I’ve been kind of crappy to you. Maybe it’s because you play hardball in the courtroom and you’ve screwed up my win-loss record. Maybe it’s … something else.” She gazed out the window. “You could’ve just driven away. But you didn’t. So—thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he said quietly.

She pounded her fist against her hand. “I can’t believe I was so … helpless.”

“That spook was obviously well trained. He would’ve clobbered me if he’d had half a chance.”

“I hate being so … vulnerable.”

“We’re way outmatched. You shouldn’t have gone by yourself.”

“I didn’t think he would try anything in the middle of the library. How did I know he was some trained super-killer?”

“From now on, assume the worst about everything and everyone.” Travis wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Cavanaugh shudder. “Did you recognize him?”

“No. You?”

“I never got a good look at his face.”

“Ditto. For a moment I thought there was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t pinpoint it.”

“Well, give it some thought.” Travis reentered the highway, merged into the fast lane, and zoomed into the darkness.

“Do you think he’s following us?”

“If he isn’t, he will be soon.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. How did he find us at the library? How do these people keep finding us wherever we go?”

“I’m not tipping anyone off, Travis.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest that you were. It’s just mysterious, that’s all. Christ!” His muscles tightened in frustration. “Get that blue box out. I’m going to make some phone calls.”

The librarian found the man pounding on the door of the reading room. First she insisted on asking idiotic questions, then she took forever to move the stupid carrel out of the doorway. As soon as the path was clear, he pushed her aside and raced out of the library.

He started his Jeep and activated the monitor, trying to pick up the signal of the tracing device he had placed in the briefcase. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He bashed his head against the steering column. What was wrong with him? First he let Byrne sneak up on him, then he let him get beyond the tracer’s radius. A simple mission, and he had blown it.

He bit down on his lower lip till it bled. It was starting all over again. The screwups. The headstrong craziness. The failure to observe procedures. This is what had gotten him kicked out, and now, when it really mattered, he was doing it all over again.

He would never get Byrne at this rate. He’d be lucky now if he even found him again. All he could do was drive around the city, all night long if necessary, hoping to stumble within twenty miles of wherever Byrne was now. Barely better than a needle in a haystack, but it was all he had.

He removed a city map from the glove compartment. He would cover the city systematically, one section at a time, picking the roads that would eventually bring him within twenty miles of almost everything. With luck, they would stop somewhere for the night and he’d have a chance to zero in on them. And if he didn’t get them the first time, he’d start all over again. And again, and again, and again. He would drive forever if necessary. He would ignore the fatigue, the despair, the pain. He would regain what he had lost.

And by God, the next time Travis Byrne would not get away from him.

49

8:00 P.M.

WHEN KRAMER ENTERED MARIO’S office, it was almost entirely dark. The gooseneck lamp was off. Only the subtlest hint of a silhouette informed him that Mario was in his usual place behind his desk. All he could see were two incandescent eyes burning across the room.

Mario spoke first. “It was Donny?”

Kramer ran his finger up and down the scar on his face. “Uh … yeah. It was.”

A very long pause. “What am I to tell his mother? He was her only son. My only nephew.”

“I—I don’t know. Sir.” Kramer shoved his hands inside his pockets. “I didn’t know Donny was followin’ me. Hell! Donny was stupid as shit, but I still wouldn’t have—”

“Don’t speak ill of the dead.”

“Sorry.” The hypocrisy of the moment was beginning to overwhelm him. As if Mario really gave a damn. “Look, we all knew what Donny was. He had no future with us—”

“Does that mean he deserved to die? To be burned alive? Ventilated by hundreds of nails?” Mario’s voice boomed out of the darkness. “Should we dispose of all our castoffs by sealing them in a car with one of your demented death traps?”

“It was a good idea. A smart backup plan. Just in case the first line of assault didn’t work.”

“Which it didn’t.”

“That’s … true. Like the bumper stickers say, shit happens. You can’t blame me for that.”

“You sent a hireling to perform a job you should have done yourself. You weren’t even there.”

“I couldn’t have passed as an office courier. My … appearance would’ve aroused his suspicions.”

“This is simply another attempt to excuse your failure. A ghastly failure that has now cost us two men. Including my nephew.”

“Give it a rest. You never liked Donny any better than I did. Just stay cool a little longer and I’ll serve Byrne’s head to you on a silver platter. Moroconi’s, too.”

“Your time is up, Mr. Kramer.” Mario rose to his feet and slowly emerged from the shadows. “For many years I have believed you were not a desirable member of our organization. In the old days, perhaps, you had a place. But now you are a relic. In this latest matter, you have proven your obsolescence. Although I have given you every possible chance, you have failed to deliver Moroconi. You haven’t even been able to find a stupid lawyer. And in the course of this catastrophic failure, you have cost men their lives and threatened the integrity of our entire organization.”

Kramer withdrew his lighter from his pocket and flicked it. The flame cast a dim glow through the darkened room. “Fine. You wanted to chew me out, you’ve chewed me out. I suppose I gave you an openin’. Now can I get on with my job?”

“You don’t have a job, Mr. Kramer.”

“ What ?”

“I am relieving you of your duties in this matter. In fact, I am relieving you of all responsibilities for my organization.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Can’t? I already have. You are no longer connected with us, Mr. Kramer. Whatever tenuous connection you once may have claimed is now and forever severed.”

“I was workin’ for this family before you were—”

“None of that matters, Mr. Kramer. I’m in charge now. And I have given you your walking papers. So walk.”

“You’re serious!”

“Very.” He stepped closer to Kramer. “If I see you around here again, I’ll have you killed.”

Kramer stalked toward the door, his teeth clenched, his fists balled up in rage. That explained why the room was so goddamn dark, he realized. Mario must have bodyguards in here. Otherwise he would never dare speak like that.

Kramer slammed the door behind him. Fucking pissant. The Outfit had shot straight downhill since Mario took over. Now they all wore business suits and pretended they were Wall Street tycoons. They didn’t know who they were anymore. They didn’t think they needed him.