“You want to watch?” Steele asked. “Fine by me, as long as we go free after Jerome is dead.”
Dubois smiled a crooked smile, his teeth very white against his dark skin. “You can get close to him. After you do, you’ll get me in too, me and maybe a couple of my friends here. Then I can watch you put the dog down.”
Steele grinned back at Dubois, afraid on some level that he had inhaled enough of the dope smoke to get a contact high. “Well, if I’m on the team now, think I could get one of them beers?”
The powder blue MX-5 pulled into a parking space in an uptown parking garage. Chastity Chiba continued her conversation on her cell phone while she set the emergency brake and shut down the car.
“Yes, the homing device worked fine, G. I had no trouble finding him. And you were right. A little bluster and a simple lie were all it took to put an end to the assassination attempt. And after I explained the deal to Preston, he agreed to keep mum and lower his profile for a while. But I wish you had told me this Lucania character had backup. I could have been topped by the cover man.”
“Hey, I didn’t know the plan,” Gorman said over the phone. “All Gunny told me was that he would be on hand and that the hit was set for today. I’m glad you were able to step in.”
“Yeah,” Chastity said, getting out of the car. “I’d hate to see our big boy involved in the murder of an assistant district attorney. And I hope he’s got a good story so no one figures out he’s the reason the murder didn’t take place.”
“Did he see you?”
“He sure did, G,” Chastity said, getting into the elevator. “Heard every word I said.”
“Then he knows enough to come up with a good cover story,” Gorman said. “Are you positioned to continue with the other plan?”
“Yes sir,” she said as the elevator stopped. “In fact, I’m about to start the fun part now.”
Chastity dropped her telephone into her bag just before she walked into Dr. Benson’s office. She used a very different stride passing the receptionist than she had when she approached as detective Kwan. The receptionist jumped in her seat when Chastity raised her right foot and kicked open the door to Benson’s inner office.
The door slammed against the wall behind it, revealing Dr. Benson at his desk and a female patient on the lounge to the right. Chastity walked in, stopped in the center of the floor and raised an arm to point at the patient.
“Get out,” Chastity said. “It’s about to get ugly in here.”
Chastity was smaller and shorter than the patient, but her voice carried the kind of authority that few can ignore. The woman gathered her purse and headed for the door.
“Close it behind you,” Chastity said, and again the woman obeyed. By then, Benson was on his feet.
“Who the hell are you?” Benson asked. “What’s the meaning of this? You can’t just come barging in here like this?”
“I’m a very sick woman,” Chastity replied, opening her purse, “and I’m here to deliver a message. First, of course, I need to get your attention.” Chastity pulled her tiny Baretta out of her handbag and pointed it at Dr. Benson’s face. Benson sat, and got very pale. She walked slowly toward his desk, until the muzzle of her automatic was an inch away from Benson’s nose.
She could see that Benson was fighting to get control of his breathing. In his panic she was sure he did not recognize her, and might not put the two Japanese women together in his mind until well after she left, which was fine with her. He tried to make eye contact and probably was working to remember whatever medical school had taught him about dealing with lunatics.
“All right, young lady, you have my complete attention,” he said, with only the slightest waver in his voice. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”
“First, let me set the stage a little better,” Chastity said. With her left hand she slid two photographs out of her purse. One was her favorite of Marty and Francine getting physical. The other was a close-up of one page of Amy Brooks’ patient record. She let Benson stare at them for a few seconds, so he would have no doubt what they were.
“Now the message,” she said over the tiny front sight of her pistol. “Francine Brooks cannot win a divorce settlement from her husband. She can’t win because of the photo on your left, clear proof of her infidelity. More importantly to you, if she goes to court, the judge will receive the photo on your right, along with several others proving conclusively that you prompted and elicited Amy Brooks’ testimony of child abuse, which is a total fabrication. This I believe would end your career.”
Benson nodded his head, and watched the pistol follow his nose up and down. “May I ask why this is an issue for you?”
That was gutsy, Chastity thought. It deserved an answer. “Clearly, Francine Brooks failed to tell you how well connected her husband is. There are people who don’t want him dragged into a divorce court.”
“People?”
“Yes,” Chastity said, hopping to slide her left hip onto the desk. “The people who hire people like me to deliver a message, and sometimes to bring unhappiness to those who fail to get the message. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” Benson said. “What do you want me to do?”
“Simple. You will initiate no further contact with Francine or Amy Brooks. If Mrs. Brooks contacts you, you will explain that you can no longer help her, and you will encourage her to find another therapist for Amy. One who will be interested in actually helping her.”
Benson was calmer now, and Chastity sensed that negotiations and clear rules put him in his comfort zone.
“And if I do as you say, this all goes away for me?”
“Yes,” Chastity said. “You’re in the clear, and nobody ever sees those unpleasant patient records. Unless of course you try this kind of crap with another patient.”
“All right,” Benson said, daring a small smile. “I’d say your message has been successfully delivered. You can take that gun out of my face now.”
Chastity felt her hatred of this lizard rising. In some ways he was worse than that lowlife Marty. Marty was only operating on a base level of selfishness. Benson was operating on a higher level of evil sophistication. He felt he was getting away scott-free and would surely try this kind of stunt again.
“One thing remains,” Chastity said, leaning closer to him. “I need to be sure I’ve sealed the message into your brain.”
Chastity pushed her gun an inch closer, so that it rested on the bridge of Benson’s nose, between his crossing eyes. While the cold steel held his complete attention, she raised her left hand. Her fingertips came together as a single point. She thrust that point, very quickly into the cleft just above the center of Benson’s collarbone. His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open, but only gasping, choking sounds came out. His hands went to his throat, almost as if he were strangling himself. The noise grew louder the whole time Chastity was putting her gun away and turning to leave. At the door she turned back to face him.
“You won’t forget me now, will you, doc?” Benson shook his head. She stepped out of his inner office and again walked past the receptionist.
“You call the police yet?” she asked the girl. The receptionist nodded her head as Chastity left the office. Chastity was feeling a wave of euphoria as she walked out of Benson’s office. This was one villain who may have been scared straight for good. She wondered what kind of story he’d give the police.
Back in his own inner office, Paul Gorman sat at his desk watching threatening clouds moving in over the city. His windows admitted enough light for him to see all he needed to see: his coffee cup, the big clock on his wall, and his yellow pad. The aroma of fresh coffee helped Gorman come closer to being relaxed. The clock ticked loudly enough for him to hear in the silence, adding order to his universe. The pad was littered with scribbles and circles that would appear random to anyone else. To Gorman, it was just one more way to try to force the universe into an orderly pattern. His focus was not broken when the telephon
e rang. He merely switched it from one point to another. He was prepared for news from one of his operatives, or to have another long conversation with Hassan about expenses and how they affected their specific mission.
“B.B.I.”
“Hi, Paul. Are you all alone there?”
“Hello, Patsy dear.” How oddly wonderful that just hearing her voice could still drain the tension from him and bring a smile to his grizzled face. “Is it so odd for me to answer the phone all by myself? What’s up?”
“Well, I was a little worried, that’s all. Not ’he’s been shot’ worried like I used to be sometimes. But you left so early and, well, I just wanted to check in and see that you made it to the office okay.”
“Honey, I’m not the one you need to worry about,” Gorman said, his eyes straying to the clock. “Some of the kids might be in kind of tight spots and…”
“Paul? Is that another line ringing?”
“Yeah, baby,” Gorman said. “I’ve really got to take this.”
“Go, honey. But keep me in the loop, okay? I love you.”
Gorman sucked up all of her warmth he could before breaking the connection. “And I love you right back, baby.” Then he pushed the button that switched him to the second line.
“Hello, G. Chiba here. I’ve just left Dr. Benson’s office. He agreed to cooperate.”
“Of course he did,” Gorman said. “I know that you asked him nicely.” He knew that Chastity reveled in the role of being his blunt instrument, much as her imagined father was for the British Secret Service.
“Sir, do you have my next destination?”
“Yes,” Gorman nodded, sipping hot coffee and scanning his notes. “Brooks has gone back to the hospital for his follow-up this afternoon. That’s the best place for this anyway. Are you good with all this? Any trouble with the rest of the plan? You’re a pretty important component in the day’s proceedings.”
“I appreciate that, G, and of course I can handle it,” Chastity said, with a grating amount of bravado. “But I have done a lot of running today and I’m wondering how I got so lucky.”
Gorman added coded marks to his yellow pad while he talked. “Simple. Gunny’s breaking with the mark, after which I need him to report here in person. And both Steele and Stone are in a situation. You’re the linchpin right now, kid.”
“Thank you for trusting me with all this,” Chastity said. “You know I won’t let you down. But I couldn’t help but notice there was a name you didn’t mention.”
“You’re right,” Gorman said softly. Now, if he only knew the whereabouts of Ruby Sanchez.
Chapter Twenty-two
Ruby finished dicing the last of the habanera and jalapeño peppers, scooped them up, and dumped them into the chili. The aroma rising from the pot was so enticing that she regretted her intention not to have any.
“So what’s on tap for tonight?” she asked, vigorously wiping the remaining pepper bits from her hands. “Another rousing soccer game on TV? You boys are the lamest excuses for Latinos I’ve ever seen. When we going out dancing?”
The only other person in the room, one of the quiet Peruvians, just stared at her. He had been assigned to watch her the whole time she was in the kitchen, crushing kidney beans, chopping tomatoes, browning slivers of steak, and dicing the peppers and onions. He always kept a close eye on her when she was using a knife, as if that were the only way she could be dangerous. Still, he watched in silence while she chattered. In all that time, Ruby had not said one thing that pissed him off. And Lord knows she had tried.
“Man, I don’t know how you got this babysitting gig with no sense of humor,” Ruby said, adding salt and crushed garlic to the pot. “If I get too bored, I might try to run off, just to find some decent conversation.”
The man just stared, so Ruby wandered into the living room. The room was starting to smell of men who didn’t bathe often enough, especially the corn chip odor of jungle-toughened feet. And damned if there wasn’t another soccer game up on the big screen. Two South American teams were going at it, and the local audience was all smiles. de La Fuente sat with his arm around Rafael, shouting at every play. Rafe was somewhat less enthusiastic. When he looked at Ruby, she could see the pain in his eyes. She knew he was embarrassed by being played for a sucker by these bargain-basement Marxists. What she hadn’t predicted was the obvious guilt over getting her stuck in the middle. Beyond Rafael’s troubled face, de La Fuente turned to her, grinning wider than ever, light glinting off that one gold tooth she had come to hate.
“Don’t be so antisocial, girl,” the Shining Path leader said. “Can’t you see how lonely your dear Rafael is? Why not come join us for the end of the game? Come watch Peru destroy Brazil.”
“I think I’ll pass. What I’d really like is to get some fresh air, but I guess under the circumstances I’ll just walk around the house.”
de La Fuente responded to her remark, but Ruby didn’t hear him. She was on her way toward the back door. The man who had watched her in the kitchen stayed behind, but another follower rose and followed her.
Ruby was walking slowly because she wanted some time to pass. de La Fuente and the others should be fully occupied by the game. When she finally reached the door, she walked back and forth slowly in front of it, tracking her follower’s movements by sound. She could unlock the door and fling it open inside of two seconds, and be through the door in three. Unfortunately, even the clod watching her would have his gun out and aimed in half a second less than that, and he would not hesitate to put a bullet in her back.
Still she couldn’t resist a test. She stopped in front of the door and turned to present her profile to her watcher. She gave him a sly smile, and coyly reached for the doorknob. Before her hand actually made contact, her watcher was reaching for his weapon. She snatched her hand back quickly. No slack. She could only hope that she had cultivated her appearance of helplessness well enough to ease his nervousness.
“Don’t you think this is a little extreme, sugar?” she asked him. “I mean, I been stuck in this house for two days. But then, so have you. Ain’t you feeling a little cabin fever?”
To her surprise, this solicited a small smile from the Peruvian terrorist. Perhaps he was reachable. He didn’t move when Ruby walked toward him. He was her height, mildly handsome, and quietly muscular the way the best fighters are.
“Look, how about you open the door while I stand way back here?” Ruby asked, adding a little silk to her normally squeaky tones. “That way I could at least see the outside.”
“Look out a window,” he said.
“My Lordy Lord, he can talk!” Ruby flashed him her most brilliant, heart-stopping smile. “Come on now. We can work something out here, can’t we?”
The guard shook his head, but he looked a little uncomfortable, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Ruby raised her own left hand toward him causing him to flinch.
“Oh, now, I won’t hurt you, honey,” Ruby said. “You’re too cute.” His smile grew by a couple of degrees, and she took that as permission to continue. Very gently, Ruby drew her hand down the man’s cheek, inhaling as if it were a special thrill for her.
The guard was a little off balance, but he didn’t react as if he were threatened in any way. In fact, he winked at her. No, his right eye was blinking. He reached up to rub it.
“What’s the matter, sugar?” Ruby asked. “Something in your eye?” Maintaining a non-threatening tone she reached up again, cradling his cheek in her right hand while rubbing her thumb across his left eye as if to clear it.
“Ahhh!” It was a low howl of pain. The guard bent almost double, covering his face with his hands. He didn’t know why, but of course, Ruby did. Capsicum, it’s called. The active ingredient in pepper spray is the same chemical that makes your eyes water and your nose run when you bite into a real hot pepper. Good cooks learn very quickly not to touch their faces after dicing those peppers. To do so can subject a person to a paralyzing burst of intense pain.
By not washing her hands after preparing dinner, Ruby had armed herself with a homemade chemical weapon. It was not a weapon of mass destruction, but it was powerful enough to buy her the three seconds she needed.
Ruby knew there were men patrolling the outside of the house, but couldn’t be sure if one would be at the back. As it turned out there was a man there, but he was more surprised to see her than she was to meet him. Black jeans and jacket made him inconspicuous, but it also meant his gun was concealed. Ruby dived sideways along the edge of the house while the guard was reaching under his jacket. She came up faster, flinging one of the white stones. The guard raised an arm to protect his face. Ruby rolled forward, then swung her legs around to sweep his feet out from under him. His hands broke his fall, but he could not protect himself from the stone in her left hand, which she swung down hard on his temple. After that he lay still and Ruby was on the move, knowing the people inside would be after her in a matter of seconds.
After being on the move all day, Chastity Chiba finally had a chance to be still. In a waiting room of the Brooklyn Hospital Center, she sat quietly, pretending to read a copy of Newsweek while she considered the events of the previous seventy-two hours.
She had worked her most recent assignment with vigor, moving with haste to uncover the sordid details of a vicious conspiracy. This particular conspiracy didn’t threaten a government, but her mentor, Paul Gorman, had taught her that the salvation of a single soul can be just as important
Her eyes did not waver when Alex Brooks stepped out of the examination room. He thanked the doctor for his time and encouragement, shook the man’s hand, and walked off down the hall. Chastity rose and followed him. When he stopped at the elevator no one else was around. Chastity approached in a cordial, non-threatening manner.
“Excuse me, Mr. Brooks. Do you have a minute?”
“Do I know you?” Brooks asked. He seemed a nervous, high-strung type to her. His eyes kept wandering from her face.
Beyond Blue Page 21
