Phillip Margolin - Wild Justice

No, but I seem to remember that the man was a lot older than the woman. I think he was an attorney with a Portland firm.

The blood drained from Amanda's face.

Are you okay? Findlay asked, concerned by Amanda's ash gray coloring.

Amanda did not answer. It dawned on her suddenly that she knew the name of the attorney who died at Ghost Lake, and, just as quickly, she understood the significance of her dream about the blood-filled coffee mug.

The meeting with Jeff Findlay had taken half an hour, and it took another hour before Amanda was sufficiently composed to return to the office. Frank was still working at six o' clock when she knocked on his doorjamb.

Hey, princess.

What're you working on? Amanda asked, to see if she was in control of her voice.

Frank leaned back and folded his hands across his stomach.

You know that drug bust in Union County?

Amanda nodded.

We've picked up one of the defendants.

Amanda forced a smile and sat down across from her father. Outside, the lights of downtown Portland shone bright, but storm clouds covered the moon.

Thank God for the rising crime rate, huh?

It does help pay the rent, Frank said. How come you're here after quitting time?

I wanted to ask you something.

Shoot.

Remember the night I picked you up at the airport? The day after I found Cardoni's hand?

Frank laughed How could I forget? It's not every day a father gets a call from his daughter informing him that she's discovered the amputated limb of a psychopath.

I guess it was a memorable occasion. Anyway, on the ride back I told you about finding Tony with Justine Castle and you said that Tony might not be the best person to get serious with. What made you say that?

Why do you want to know?

Tony and I, we've gotten pretty close since he returned from New York.

Frank's eyebrows went up.

When you said that about Tony, four years ago, he was leaving Oregon and I didn't see any reason to press you. But now ... I mean, is there some reason you don't like him?

No, I guess I just didn't like him hurting my little girl. Frank smiled ruefully. You know, it doesn't matter whether that little girl is five or twenty-five when you're her father. Frank paused. So, how serious is this?

Amanda forced a smile and shrugged. I don't know, Dad. But there was nothing specific, right?

Frank hesitated. Then he sat up straight.

You know that Dominic, Tony's father, was one of my original law partners?

Amanda nodded.

Dom was in my study group in law school. So was Ernie Katz. We called ourselves the Three Musketeers because we were all young guys with families who were working our way through night school.

Dom was the life of the party, the hardest drinker, the one who always wanted to go for a beer. I never understood how he could always be on the go without collapsing, but you do that sort of thing when you're young and never think about it. Nowadays they have names for Dom's problem: bipolar disorder, manic-depression. We just thought of Dom as an iron man, and we rarely saw him when he was down.

Once we formed our partnership it became obvious that Dom had problems. His wife left him and Tony when Tony was in high school. There were rumors that he was abusive to both of them. Tony was pretty wild by then. I helped him out of two scrapes in high school, and I was able to keep his record clean. When he went to Colgate I hoped that being away from Dom would help him get his life together.

Dom was very smart and he was a good lawyer when his motor was going, but he was arrogant and lazy. He was also a heavy drinker and a womanizer. He cost us two good secretaries before we caught on. You were a sophomore in high school when Ernie and I asked Dom to leave the firm. It was a bad scene.

Two days later a detective came to the office. It was winter break and we were supposed to go skiing, but I had to call off the trip, remember?

Amanda nodded.

Dom had a cabin in the mountains

Near Ghost Lake, wasn't it?

Frank nodded, and Amanda felt sick.

The detective told us that it had burned to the ground. Dom and a young woman were inside when the fire started. The police determined that it was arson.

Where was Tony? Amanda asked, using every ounce of will to keep her tone casual.

He was in Mexico for winter break. I' m the one who had to phone him and tell him that his father was dead. Frank shook his head sadly as he remembered the call.

So you talked to him, you spoke to him?

Not right away. If I remember, I left a message at his hotel asking him to call. I think he got in touch a day or so later. Then he flew home.

What does his father's murder or his problems have to do with you not liking Tony? You can't blame him for his father's sins.

Frank thought for a moment before replying.

What Tony's done, becoming a doctor, is admirable, but growing up the way he did can affect a young man; it leaves scars. Sometimes they're permanent and they prevent a man from ever figuring out how to relate to a woman. Tony's father was a drunk and a womanizer, and he was physically abusive. That's the lesson he taught Tony. When you told me he was dating you and seeing another woman at the same time, it made me think of the way Dom treated women.

Amanda stood up. It was all she could do to keep her legs from shaking.

Thanks, Dad. I've got to go now.

Sure. I hope I didn't upset you.

No, I' m fine.

Amanda flashed a smile and hoped it masked her fear. Then she turned and left the office, fighting hard to keep from running.

Chapter 62

The orderly on duty outside the secured ward looked up when two men wearing white coats over casual clothes got out of the elevator. Dimitri Novikov and Igor Timoshenko were arguing about this year's prospects for the Seattle Mariners. They both carried cups of coffee. Timoshenko had a stethoscope around his neck. The guard relaxed. That's when Novikov pressed his silenced pistol against the guard's temple.

Please ring for your friend who is inside, Dimitri asked politely in barely accented English. I will be lowering my pistol as soon as you do, but my companion is also armed and he will kill you if there is any trouble.

As soon as the guard pressed the button, the weapon disappeared. A moment later a face pressed against the bulletproof glass in the door to the ward.

We're here to examine Dr. Cardoni, Novikov said into the intercom next to the door. Then he turned to Timoshenko and continued to press his position that the Mariners had no chance of winning their division.

Their relievers are pathetic, he said emphatically.

He was midway through listing the earned-run averages of the team's relief pitchers when the door opened. He stopped arguing long enough to press his gun against the orderly's stomach.

One word and I will kill you. Lead us to Dr. Cardoni's room.

The orderly's eyes widened. He turned without speaking and started down the corridor. He was so frightened that the pfft made by Timoshenko's silenced pistol did not register. Timoshenko closed the door to the ward, locked it and followed Novikov and the orderly. On the other side of the door, blood from a fatal head wound spread over the surface of the guard's desk.

Timoshenko and Novikov were Russians who lived in Seattle. Martin Breach had used their talents before for special jobs. The previous evening they had met Art Prochaska in a video arcade in Vancouver, Washington. Prochaska had paid them $25,000 and promised another $25,000 if they delivered Vincent Cardoni to Breach alive and relatively unharmed. He had given the Russians a floor plan of the hospital and a detailed diagram of the secured ward. An elevator inside the ward was used to move prisoners. An ambulance driven by another Russian was parked outside a ground-floor door of the hospital. All Novikov and Timoshenko had to do was gain access to Cardoni's room, sedate him and take him down the elevator. Breach did not care how they accomplished their task as long as they delivered their package.