John Locke - Lethal People

I sighed again. I should be blowing balloons for a living.

“Sal,” I said, “the hotel bombing, it was DeMeo.”

“What? Joe DeMeo? That’s nuts!”

“I had a meeting with DeMeo this morning. Afterward, I met a hooker. That bomb you saw on TV? She planted it in my room. I found out later she was one of DeMeo’s girls.”

“You sayin’ they blew up that whole goddamn hotel just to kill you ? And missed ? I’d a used a friggin’ ice pick.”

“That’s a happy thought,” I said.

“Hey, nothin’ personal.”

“Right,” I said. I got us back on track. “Do you think Victor and DeMeo are working together some way?”

“Why?”

“Victor gave me the hit on Monica Childers. Suddenly the pictures are all over the TV. Turns out Victor hijacked a spy satellite and downloaded the photos. Then Monica’s body goes missing. The government pins it on Russians, supposedly working with terrorists. Next thing you know, DeMeo tries to kill me and makes it look like a terrorist attack on a hotel. That sound like a coincidence to you?”

“What do I look like, Perry Mason? Whaddya think, I got a friggin’ crystal ball in my pocket? What, I’m gonna check the horoscope for—whatcha call—worlds colliding?”

I took that as a no. “Can you give me anything at all on Victor?”

“You tryin’ to find Childers’ wife? Make sure she’s gonna stay dead this time?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Might cause a—whatcha call—rift between you and the midget.”

“I’ll try to solve the one without losing the other.”

“Well, nuthin’ from nuthin’, but things go bad between you, I don’t give refunds. Anyway I already donated my share to charity.”

“Spare me.”

“The Mothers of Sicily. You should look into it. They do great work here in the neighborhood.”

I said nothing.

Sal’s voice changed to something resembling sincerity. “Truth is, I got squat,” he said. “But I’ll shake the trees, see what falls out. I hate that friggin’ DeMeo. He’s bad for business.”

“You want to help me take him down?”

He paused. “That’s the sort of question gets people killed if someone’s taping.”

“I’m not taping anything. I want to rob him.”

“You better be planning to kill him, then.”

“I won’t rule it out,” I said. “You want half?”

“How much we talking about?”

“Twenty million.”

He was quiet a moment. “Twenty for me, or all together?”

“All together. Let’s get together soon, work it out.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, then added, “But stay outta my house. I don’t want to come home one night, find you in my friggin’ living room in the dark.”

“I’ll come to your social club.”

“Bring the blond with you.”

“Sal, about the blond. She’s dead inside.”

“You ever do her?”

“She’s like a spider. If she does you, she kills you.”

He thought about that awhile. “Might be worth it,” he said.

I thought about it, too. “Might be,” I said.

We hung up. My shoulder throbbed from hitting the sidewalk a few hours earlier. The engines continued their monotonous whine. I reclined my seat and closed my eyes. I think I might have heard Quinn say, “How can you sleep at a time like this?”

CHAPTER 33

Ashrill sound jolted me awake. It repeated, and I pulled the air phone from its cradle. I checked my watch. Two hours had passed.

“What have you got for me?” I asked.

“We’re guessing Semtex,” Lou said.

Semtex is the explosive of choice for international terrorist groups. It’s cheap, odorless, readily available, has an indefinite shelf life, and slides through airport security scanners like a pair of silk panties.

Lou said, “You were right; the hotel blast originated in the area of your bedroom.”

“How’d they verify that?”

“Lack of a crater. Ground floor detonation would have left one a meter deep. A charge placed above the second floor would have taken out the roof.”

“What are the Feds working on?”

“Hotel cameras, cross-referencing faces with suspected terrorists and sympathizer lists, checking for connections by address, criminal records, religious and political affiliations. Darwin said to give them Jenine, so they’re working up a profile on her as well.”

I looked across the aisle at Quinn. He appeared to be asleep again, in the exact same position as before. From what I could see he hadn’t moved a muscle since finishing his second drink. I envy any monster that can crash like that.

“I wish he hadn’t given them Jenine,” I said. “They’re going to want to talk to me about it, and we’re liable to cross wires in the field. Better to solve the case for them and let them take the credit afterward.”

“The Feebs have you on the lobby camera checking in. They’ve got your name and credit card on the registration. They’ve got Jenine twice on the lobby cameras. They know about your clearance to fly out of Edwards. Darwin said if we didn’t give them Jenine, the Feds would detain you and Quinn as material witnesses when you land.”

That made sense. Still, I hated having everyone in law enforcement know about my dalliance with a twenty-year-old escort. Every Feeb I deal with from now on will find a way to work that into the conversation.

CHAPTER 34

By surviving Joe DeMeo’s attack, I’d put my family in danger, so I asked Callie to keep an eye on Janet and Kimberly until further notice. I’d also tipped my hand by demanding money for Addie, so I put Quinn in the burn center to protect her.

“Victor’s story is a sad one,” Lou said.

It was Sunday afternoon. My shoulder was freshly bandaged, and I’d gotten caught up on my sleep. Lou had gathered a ton of information for me on Victor, but all I wanted to know was the source of his funds and his connection to Monica Childers.

“They’re both related,” Lou said.

“Enlighten me with the short version.”

“Victor was born with serious respiratory problems. About twenty years ago, he was in the hospital for a minor surgery when a nurse gave him an accidental overdose that put him into cardiac arrest. Someone wheeled him into an elevator on the way to emergency surgery and somehow managed to leave him there. Up and down he went from floor to floor in the elevator for more than thirty minutes before someone realized what had happened. They rushed him to the OR, but the surgeon botched the procedure and Victor suffered a stroke. Subsequent attempts to save his life rendered him a quadriplegic.

“Then the hospital made a feeble attempt to cover up the incident. Victor’s attorneys sued both the hospital and the drug company and managed to win the largest settlement ever paid to an individual in the state of Florida. After being released from the hospital, Victor’s parents placed the proceeds from the lawsuit into Berkshire Hathaway stock. By the time he was of legal age, he was worth more than a hundred million dollars. By then, his parents were dead, and he surrounded himself with the best financial people money could buy. He became a venture capitalist, funded several internet startups that hit the big time.”

“How big?”

“We’re talking close to a billion dollars at this point. Beyond his incredibly sophisticated computer system, state-of-the-art apartment, and cutting-edge electronics that have allowed him to function at the highest possible level, he had nothing else upon which to spend his wealth.”

“The doctor that severed his spinal cord,” I said.

“Baxter Childers,” Lou said.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have motive,” I said.