Greg Iles - The Devils Punchbowl

This silences Hull for some seconds. “Mr. Cage, there’s no need for threats. We’re on the same side.”

“That'’s the one thing I'm not clear on after this conversation, Mr. Hull. Good night.”

“Wait! Please don'’t do anything rash. For your own sake. You have my phone number now, on your satellite phone.”

“I don'’t need your number. You can tell your masters this. Besides being a citizen, I'm also a lawyer. And I don'’t cringe when I say that. I'm not a backroom, Washington Beltway, cuff-links-and-suspenders kind of lawyer—and by that I mean

your

kind of lawyer. I'm a trial lawyer. A former state prosecutor. And when somebody starts treating the laws of my state like their own personal toilet paper, I know how to tear them a new asshole. Am I getting through to you, sir?”

“In graphic detail. Mr. Cage, you remind me of what I loved and hated about the South.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Take care of yourself. And please inform Daniel Kelly that he’s made himself subject to severe criminal penalties for misappropriating army property. He can be arrested at any time.”

When I click END, I realize that my father has come outside as well. He and Caitlin are watching me with a mix of concern and awe.

“I love you,” says Caitlin, hugging me tight. “You realize that, right?”

“Jesus.”

“That was…freaking awesome.”

“No, it was stupid. This isn’t a Frank Capra movie.”

“Who were you talking to?” Kelly asks.

“Claimed he was special counsel to the Department of Homeland Security. Name of Hull. Ever hear of him? William Hull.”

“No. But it sounds like we’d better forget what we were talking about back in the house.”

“Yeah. Killing federal informants is a bad idea.”

“Sands is a government informant?” Dad asks.

“He’s their leverage against Po. And they want Po for all sorts of major crimes. Human smuggling, prostitution, money laundering. All the stuff Walt talked about the other night. If my experience is any guide, Sands is probably part of a sting designed to lure Po onto U.S. soil. Then they can grab him, and Sands can testify against him.”

Kelly sighs in disgust. “And then Sands walks? Is that the deal?”

“I honestly don'’t know. But with a target that big, and in this paranoid security climate, it’s possible. They couldn'’t care less what crimes Sands is committing down here. For all we know, Sands could be doing that stuff specifically to lure Po here.”

“That'’s just

nuts,

” Caitlin sputters. “It’s fascism!”

My father lays a hand on her shoulder. “It burns me up to think they’d write off what we’ve been going through, but the government makes those kinds of decisions all the time. All governments do.”

“But

ours

isn’t supposed to.”

Kelly laughs cynically. “Caitlin, you sound like a schoolgirl, not a journalist.”

“So, we’re just going to back off?” she says in disbelief. “That'’s what you’re all saying?”

“You think we want to back off?” I ask incredulously. “We’re the ones who wanted to shoot the son of a bitch!”

“There’s got to be a middle path,” she says doggedly.

“Don’t go Buddhist on us,” Kelly says wearily, probing his wounded arm. “We’'ve got new information now. We’'ve got to pull back a little to reassess. I’'ve got four guys risking their careers to protect Annie and Peggy right now. That'’s asking a lot of men who don'’t even know them.”

“Hull knows all about you,” I tell Kelly. “The Star Treks, everything. Blackhawk sold you out. Hull threatened you with arrest.”

Kelly shrugs as if this were only to be expected. “You could still try to nail Sands on murder charges after the feds get custody of Po, right?”

“Yes. They don'’t have the power to grant Sands immunity on state charges. Not unless they’ve suspended the Constitution.”

Caitlin stares at me with narrowed eyes, then steps forward. “Don’t do this, Penn. You can’t cave in to bastards like Hull.”

“I hate to say it, but I’'ve been in the same position he’s in. Not exactly the same, but similar ones. Justice is about compromise, Caitlin. Trade-offs.”

“

Justice?

Don’t shit on that word by using it to describe what’s about to happen here.”

I sigh heavily, then lift the satellite phone and call the lawyer back.

Dad takes Caitlin’s arm. “Let’s just be thankful Jenny wasn'’t killed, and that none of us was either. We’'ve been lucky, considering what we’re mixed up in.”

In her present mood, Caitlin would jerk her arm away from anyone else. But not my father. Instead, she leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder.

“Hello, Mr. Cage,” Hull says in a smug voice. “Have you thought things over?”

“Yes.”

“I know emotions are probably running high down there. But with your legal background, I felt certain you’d see the logic of things.”

“I have a precondition for backing off, Mr. Hull.”

“What’s that?”

“You call off the dogs, as of this moment. That means Sands, Quinn, and any goons who are watching us. Also any agency that’s eavesdropping, trying to find my kid, whatever. All that stops as of this moment. Is that understood?”

There’s a brief silence. “I can’t speak to those specific concerns, but I feel sure you can stop worrying about your loved ones from this point forward. No one knows better than I that Sands can be difficult to deal with. Things probably got a little out of hand down there. I may be coming down myself soon, to help manage things.”

“If you want your prosecution to succeed, please don'’t make me call you again.”

“More threats?”

“That'’s no threat. How would you like this story to go page one across the country? We can make that happen, if you push us.”

This silences Hull longer than anything else.

“Do we have an understanding?” I ask.

“D’accord,”

he says. “You go back to your lives, we’ll go back to making America safe. Good-bye.”

I kill the connection. “God, what an arrogant bastard.”

“Let’s go,” Caitlin says in a flat voice. “How are we getting back?”

“You two ride in the helicopter with Danny and Carl,” Dad says. “Kelly and I will follow in the car. If that’s okay with you, Kelly. I’d like to keep an eye on that arm.”

“Sure.”

The subtext is clear: No one wants to be around Caitlin for the thirty minutes it will take to drive back to town. I’d just as soon ride in the car with Kelly and Dad, but that wouldn'’t go over well with the offended lady.

“Let me get that dog’s head and lock the house,” Dad says, “and we’ll run you over to the chopper.”

“It’s only a couple of hundred yards,” Caitlin says. “We’ll walk it. There’s no danger anymore, right?’

Dad’s face darkens. “I'm not so sure—”

“We’ll walk it,” I tell him, looking over at the running lights of the chopper on the far side of the lake road.

Kelly squeezes my arm and says, “I'’ll see you back at the house.”

“You sticking around town awhile?”

He somehow manages a grin as my father walks back to the door. “I can’t afford to lose this gig. You’re my only employer now.”

“Good, because I need you to bring Annie back from Texas. You’re definitely still on the payroll.”

“Sounds like a pretty cushy job.” Kelly stops smiling and points past me. “You better look after her.”

Caitlin has already started walking toward the helicopter. I don'’t hurry to catch up, but my longer stride brings us even soon enough. At first she says nothing. But when I don'’t speak, she says, “You know what’s funny about the way that just went down?”

“What?”

“Two minutes before that lawyer called, you were ready to wipe Jonathan Sands off the planet without even a warning. But the second some Beltway lawyer told you that Sands should go scot-free for God and country, you bent over and said, ‘Thank you, sir, may I have another.’”