Thomas Perry - The Butcher's Boy

She heard the knock on the door and stood up. Palermo was visibly uncomfortable now. She could see a thin film of sweat was beginning to appear on his fat cheeks. He said, “Let me fling it open and stand behind. If it’s anybody but your Brayer, blow his ass away.”

Elizabeth ignored him. “Who is it?” she said.

“John, Elizabeth. Open up.”

When she opened the door he slipped in and locked it behind him. “So. Who’s this?” he said.

“John, this is Mr. Palermo. Dominic Palermo. He wants to turn himself in as a material witness on the FGE thing.”

“And a hell of a lot more,” Palermo volunteered. “But I want protection. Immunity, resettlement, the works.”

“Why did you come to Miss Waring?” asked Brayer.

“I heard she was working on some things I know about,” said Palermo.

“Heard?” said Brayer. “From whom?”

“I just heard, that’s all. So what’s the deal? Can you get me what I want?”

Brayer looked at him, then at Elizabeth, then back at him. He said, “That depends. If what you know is worthwhile and you’re cooperative, and you tell us the truth, I might—just might—be able to arrange something like that. But a lot of people I don’t have the authority to speak for would have to agree to it.”

Palermo shook his head and stared at the carpet. “Christ,” he said. “Another one. So you’ve got to call somebody too. And then he’s got to call somebody.”

“That’s about the size of it,” said Brayer, staring hard at the fat little man. “So take it or leave it.”

Palermo looked at him in desperation. “What can you guarantee? Not what you might do if the President feels like it and the Attorney General’s new shoes don’t pinch his toes and a little way on this too. I picked the Justice Department because they give the best terms, for one thing. For another, it’s the highest.”

“Highest?”

“Yeah. If I have a deal with Justice, then five years from now the sheriff of Herkimer County can’t decide he wants me for double parking.”

She had to admit to herself he was smart. His idea of the way jurisdictions worked was bizarre, but he was right about the way they’d work for him. “All right,” she said, “I can’t give you any guarantees about what you’re asking for. I can’t even tell you if Justice will take you as a material witness. But I have to talk to my superior on this.”

“Don’t use that phone,” he said. “It may be tapped.”

She picked up the telephone and dialed Brayer. When he answered she said, “John, come to my room right away,” and hung up.

“I’m not happy about that,” said Palermo. “I’ll go along with it because I’m stuck with it, at four thirty in the morning and all that, but I want you to know I’m not a happy man.”

“What’s wrong now?” said Elizabeth. She sat on the bed, keeping the gun trained on an imaginary spot a foot to the left of Palermo’s chest. She could see he was telling the truth—he wasn’t a happy man—but she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be. She wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen now, but if he was unhappy she must be in control.

Palermo began to pace back and forth in front of the door. “Don’t you people ever do anything on your own?” he asked. “There’s always got to be a Mr. Brayer or Mr. Farquhar or some damn thing. No wonder none of you can find your own ass with both hands. You’re taking a lot of chances with my safety.”

Elizabeth said nothing, just let him walk back and forth, muttering to himself. Maybe Brayer could convince him to go there’s enough humidity. Look, I’m no rummy. I got things you’d like to hear.”

Brayer shrugged. “You came here because you think you’ve got something to sell. I can probably keep you alive, for one thing, and you wouldn’t be here if you had the same offer from anyone else. So I’d say that’s high bid.”

Palermo sat down on the bed with his shoulders hunched and said nothing. Brayer turned to Elizabeth and drew her to the other side of the room. At first she hesitated, but Brayer said, “You don’t have to watch him. What’s he going to do to us?”

When they were out of earshot he whispered, “What’s he told you so far?”

Elizabeth said, “He’s a partner of Ferraro, the man they killed in the hotel gift shop, and he’s afraid somebody’s going to get him too. He’s very particular about who protects him. He’s set on the Justice Department. Not the police or even the FBI.”

“Anything else? What about FGE?”

“Just that. The initials. But he must know something, or he wouldn’t be here.” She tried to remember the logic of it. “He wouldn’t need protection unless—”

Brayer nodded and said, “Probably not. But if a war is on, it’s hard to tell. He might be nothing. We can’t take the chance, of course. The question is, how do we make the best use of him?” Brayer looked over at Palermo, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms folded, staring at the floor.

“Why don’t we get some guards and take him to the Bureau office?” said Elizabeth. “We could even call them to come get him. Then we could start making arrangements with Washington for the bargain.”

Brayer’s eyes narrowed. “You know, he may be right about the FBI. For one thing, we’ve got him and nobody knows it. If we take him to the Bureau headquarters openly, we lose the best part of him. If we don’t, all his pals will know is that he dropped out of sight. See what I mean?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Sure, but how do we do it? We can’t keep him here.”

Brayer said, “What I’d like to do is get him to Washington, but I don’t think we could do that very easily without either being spotted in an airport or driving, and that’d be worse. It would take a week before we got a word out of him. No, we’ve got to get him somewhere safe and quiet by morning.”

“But where?” said Elizabeth. “We don’t even have a field office in Las Vegas, and anyway—”

“No,” said Brayer. “But how about the capital? Carson City. We’ve got one there, and it’s within driving distance. Besides, it would convince him we’re going to meet him halfway on his bargain. Go get dressed.”

Elizabeth had a sick feeling. “We’re not going to do it ourselves, are we, John?”

“What else can we do?” he asked. “If we start collecting agents here at quarter to five in the morning we might as well put an ad in the paper. In fact, if he’s as valuable as he claims, he might even get killed.”

Elizabeth went to the closet and began collecting her clothes. Palermo looked up and said, “So. You must have made a decision. What is it?”

Brayer answered, “We’re going to do what you want, at least as long as you’re cooperative. We’re going to take you to the Justice Department’s office in Carson City for now. If we can get you that far without anybody noticing, we can fly you to Washington later.”

“Oh,” said Palermo, “I get it. If I tell you enough in Carson City you’re a hero and I get to go to Washington so you can show me off. If I don’t, you don’t have anything to show your boss, so you chuck me out.”

Brayer said, “Could be. That’s the chance you have to take. But don’t worry. As you said, you’ve got things we want to hear. You’re no rummy.”

“That’s right,” said Palermo, his big, dark eyes glaring up at Brayer out of his broad face. “I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Elizabeth dressed quickly in the bathroom. Of course John was right. If they could get Palermo out of sight where he could be interrogated before anyone knew he was missing, it might be just the break they’d been waiting for. Whatever he knew would stay fresh as long as his bosses didn’t know he was talking. As soon as they knew, things would begin to change, evidence would evaporate; they’d be raiding empty buildings and trying to arrest people who had already left the country.