Juan waved his hand and Pablo stepped aside. Juan stood between the seated men. “You know me, Rico. Unlike my reckless nephew, I don’t move without the facts. And your man stinks.”
“What’s he done?”
“You punk children, you think we’re so old and past it that you can pull the wool over our eyes? I’ve played this game better than you kids ever could. All those contacts you have in the precincts—they’ve covered your tracks, but they haven’t done it very well.” Juan held out his hand and Andrés handed him an A3-size photo, which he held in front of Rico. It showed a maroon Ford GT Shelby.
Rico bit his bottom lip.
“That’s right, Rico. You know whose car that is. It’s the punk’s beside you. I’m gonna tell you a story, one you already know. There’s a guy running around out there wanted for murder. Word started spreading that he had some evidence on me that could put me away. Thing is, one of my guys in internal affairs informs me that the evidence is a video recording showing me pull the trigger on Connor Murray. Can you believe it, me the one who killed that punk?
“Anyway, it turns out that this video does exist and Tobias has a very clear copy. So I start asking myself who was around that day that could have made this brilliant recording, and Nino tells me that he could have sworn he saw Joachim’s car.
“Obviously, I don’t want to start killing people without proof, so I get my guy to look at the video cameras, and he came back with nothing. But then he found out that some kids had been taking pictures on their phones of their dogs just thirty minutes before we got there. Wanna guess where that picture of his car turned up?”
Rico licked his lips and looked at the floor.
“That’s what I thought. Now, I know Joachim doesn’t take a shit without your permission, so I think to myself, if the dog is there, the master must be, too, or he sent the dog out to do his bidding. Tell me if I’m close.”
Rico took a deep breath, still unable to look at Juan.
The gobernador leaned so close that their foreheads almost touched. “I just want to know one thing. Were you acting alone or did my nephew send you?”
Rico looked at the still-trembling Joachim and grimaced. Juan nodded at Pablo, who adjusted his eye patch and stooped to pick up a baseball bat covered in dried blood. He charged forward and struck Joachim in the abdomen. The bleeding man screamed.
“That’s enough,” Rico shouted. “You’ll kill him.”
“Not quite,” Juan said. “A few more blows to the head and, yes, he probably will die, but the body shots, they’ll just chip away at his bones. You can end this by just telling me what I want to know.”
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you. You have a shot of what might be Joachim’s car, but you have no plates. Plus it was taken half an hour before whatever you say happened happened.”
“So you’re saying that no one in your crew was involved in making that video?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Juan nodded at Pablo again, and he struck Joachim just below the shoulder blade. The man screamed for almost a minute, his entire body shaking violently.
***
Tobias tried his hardest not to move an inch as he stared at Annabel sleeping peacefully, her head against his chest. Some of her eye makeup had run across her face, which he delicately wiped. Her arms were sprawled awkwardly across the bed. The clock on the side table said 1 a.m.
His mind raced. He didn’t know how to describe his feelings for Annabel. She wasn’t like any of the other women he had been with. It was as if she were there just to protect him, which he still couldn’t completely comprehend. He mainly saw the cold and emotionless side and longed for her to act like a woman, even if only once.
As he’d had sex with her, he was unbelievably aroused and turned on. He climaxed multiple times in a short time—something that had never happened to him before. He put it down to his amazement at actually sleeping with such a detached person, someone he found overwhelmingly attractive but ultimately unattainable.
The way she’d rolled over to the opposite side of the bed after they finished didn’t surprise him. He even wondered whether she’d had sex with him only because of the emotions she’d felt at the time. As she lay against his chest, he wanted to kiss her on the lips or embrace her tightly but feared she would be more likely to punch him than to respond in kind. Then he felt a touch of guilt, guilt that he had slept with Penélope’s best friend while her murderer still walked free. What am I supposed to do? What can I do? I wish all of this would just be over.
An owl hooted by the window, startling him. Annabel moaned, and he grimaced. He had woken her.
“What time is it?” she asked, her head still on his chest.
He kissed her forehead and ruffled her hair. He was surprised when she giggled softly. “It’s just after 1,” he said.
She half-yawned and reached over to cuddle him. His eyes widened, uncertainty flowing through his mind. He quickly reciprocated and held her tightly.
“The sex was so nice,” she said.
A smile crept onto his face, and if he could have shouted happily without looking silly, he would have. Instead, he said, “It was more than nice.”
She looked up at him and planted a long lingering kiss on his lips. As she laid her head back on him, he tugged against her shoulder. “Sit up.”
She sat up and looked at him.
“I’m gonna do it,” he said.
She leaned toward him and half-opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“The money,” he said. “My grandfather. I’m going to take the inheritance.”
She threw herself into his arms. “It’s so good to hear you say that. We’ll be able to go anywhere we want.”
“I know.”
She pulled back and looked at him. “But why? Why have you changed your mind?”
He took a deep breath and rose from the bed. He gazed into her eyes before walking to the window. “For so long I blamed him for my family. I blamed him for my dad drinking too much and my mom being addicted to every drug out there. The truth is, he was the only person who had his shit together, you know?” He stared at her for a moment and then looked back outside.
She put her white dressing gown on and wrapped her arms around him from behind. He squeezed her hands and smiled.
“What actually happened between your parents and him?” she asked.
“My whole family were just bad people, all of them. My dad didn’t care about me. He never wanted to see me. My mom always blamed my grandfather for everything that happened to her. I know he did things for evil guys, but when I think about it, the one man who always loved me and stopped everything he was doing when I was around was my grandfather. My parents might have hated him, but then again, did they love me?”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say. For so long, he sent people here to just get me to talk to him and I sent them away. Even if he wasn’t killed, the cancer would have taken him, and I still never went to see him.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s just human nature,” he mumbled, his voice becoming unsteady. “We always hold grudges. We never tell people that we love them until we can’t. I don’t know if it’s pride or just arrogance. Well, now I’ve lost my grandfather, and I didn’t even try to make peace with him.” He turned and held Annabel by the shoulders. “Have you still got your disposable phone?”
“Yeah, it’s in my purse, why?”
His face tightened and he frowned toward the bed. ‘The last guy my grandfather sent used to be some sort of top dog in Germany, an ex-German special forces or something. He’ll be able to sort everything out, but we need to get to Düsseldorf. Has your guy finished with the passports?’
Annabel leaned forward and kissed him softly three times. “I’m not using the same guy. After what happened, I’m not sure he wasn’t the one who ratted us out. My other guy is coming here tomorrow with them.”
<
br /> “But can you trust this guy?”
“I think so. I hope so anyway. Either way, we have no choice. He’s the only other person I know who can help us.”
He walked to the bed and pulled his laptop bag from behind the headboard. He rummaged through the zipped compartments before pulling out a red passport. Annabel stared at him wide-eyed before taking it from him. The name inside was “Siegfried Eichelberger.”
She looked at him with a mix of anger and amusement. “So this whole time you’ve had that?”
He smiled and returned it to his bag. “I couldn’t give everything away, could I?”
She jumped on him and tickled him. They fumbled around on the floor, kissing and giggling, before he carried her back to bed.
***
Rico couldn’t tell whether Joachim was dead. He lay on his back, his face covered in blood, as Pablo continuously punched him in the midsection.
“That’s enough,” Juan said. He leaned toward Rico. “I really don’t like his chances of surviving any of this. If fact, he might already be dead, but if he’s not, the only way you can save him is talking.”
Rico glared at him and turned away, and the gobernador simply moved into his line of view again.
“You have my word,” Juan said. “Tell me the truth and I’ll get him to a hospital.” He looked at the blood-soaked man lying on the floor with his hands behind his back. “I’m not saying that he’ll ever be able to walk again. Hell, he might never be able to eat solid food again. But on my mother”—he pointed into the air with his right hand—“con Dios como mi testigo, he’ll live.”
Rico looked at Joachim lying on the floor, twitching ever so slightly. His mouth was swollen beyond recognition, blood flowed freely from his nose, and both eyes were swollen shut. Rico grimaced and turned away. Anger filled his heart.
“Just tell me, did my nephew ask you to make that recording?” Juan asked.
Rico rolled his eyes and looked away. Pablo lunged forward and punched him in the side of the mouth, causing the ejecutor to grunt. Juan tugged at his collar and slapped him twice on both cheeks. “You’re gonna tell me the truth,” he shouted. “You’d better start speaking now or I’ll kill him.”
Rico spit blood onto the floor. “I told you, I don’t know anything.”
Juan nodded and pulled out a nine-millimeter. He walked toward Joachim and shot four bullets into his chest and one into his head, Rico shuddering with each hit. Joachim’s head slumped to the side.
The gobernador stretched his neck and lit a cigar. He took two puffs before kneeling in front of Rico. “Now, I didn’t want to do that, but you left me no choice. Please don’t make me do that to you. Tell me what I want to know.”
Nino stretched his right hand and took the baseball bat from Pablo, dried blood covering almost every inch of it. He swung it back and forth as he eyed the bound ejecutor, as if he were waiting for permission to strike.
“Nino wants a piece of you,” Juan said. Rico glared at the man with the bat. “I don’t want him to hurt you, Rico. I’ve known you since you were 3, for God’s sake. Don’t make me do this.”
Rico half-laughed. “You think all this sentimental bullshit will change anything?”
Juan stepped back and nodded at Nino, who lunged toward Rico and smashed the bat against his chest. Rico screamed, and Nino threw three punches in quick successions to his face. Rico hung his head, struggling to breathe. Another punch came, and he felt a sharp thrust against his neck, cutting through his flesh. He tried to scream, but his vocal chords failed him. As his eyes widened, his body grew numb. He looked desperately at Juan, who continued to smoke his cigar.
Juan then waved his hand, and the garrote on Rico’s neck was released. Pablo stood in front of him, the blood-soaked garrote in his hand and a broad smile on his face.
Juan knelt beside him again. “I could have killed you right there, but I didn’t. You’ve got to help me here, Rico, or pretty soon your life will be out of my hands.”
Rico’s face trembled, as did his hands. Swinging his head, he motioned for Juan to come closer. “You ... you tell yourself what you want,” Rico said. “I didn’t make that recording, and neither did Antonio. You can kill me down here and I still won’t change my story.”
Juan dashed toward the door with his hands over his head and shouted. He grabbed Rico by the collar. “You’d better start fucking talking or I’ll make this painful for you.”
Rico stared at him, expressionless. Juan punched the ejecutor on the left cheek and the right temple. Bleeding heavily, Rico fell to the floor, his hands still behind his back. Juan knelt and connected with a right hook and then a left. He continued punching him until his knuckles were covered with blood.
Finally, he stopped, his fists trembling. He glanced at Andrés, who was watching him intently, as were Pablo and Nino. He took a deep breath and picked up a bloody towel from the floor and wiped yet more blood onto it.
He kicked Rico’s legs, causing him to stir. He turned to Nino. “Get him out of here and call an ambulance.”
Nino’s eyes widened, but Juan turned to go. “Boss?” the ejecutor said.
The gobernador looked at him with anger in his eyes.
“Is that a good idea?” Andrés asked. “To keep him alive?”
Juan’s face tightened, and he looked as if he were about to bark out some words. Instead, he took a deep breath and simply repeated his orders to Nino. “I don’t care if you put him in a dumpster, but he’s not dying by my hands today.” He charged up the stairs. Andrés followed him.
21. Unconditional Love
A door slammed and Tobias woke up in a sweat. He reached to his left, but no one lay there. He heard the TV come on, as well as the sound of someone walking around the living room. He quickly put his boxer shorts on and walked out. Annabel stood by the window, fully clothed and smoking a cigarette.
“Who was that?” Tobias asked.
Annabel threw a black plastic bag onto the sofa. “Just my guy. We’ve got all we need now. We fly in five days.”
“How come you don’t want me to meet any of your people?”
She looked out the window. “It’s safer that way. I’d rather keep you out of all that.”
Tobias picked up the plastic bag and tipped out the contents—two American passports. He opened the first one and saw a photo of Annabel with long blond hair, which he thought worked well for a disguise. The name read “Claudia Wilson.” He frowned at his own picture. It looked like him, but he had no hair.
“What’s all this about?”
Annabel walked over and looked at the passport. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”
“Where did you get the bald picture of me?”
“Photoshop.” She smiled. “I like it.” She walked back to the window, her cigarette nearly finished. “I think you look really hot in that picture, more manly.”
“What’re you trying to say?” He smiled as he approached her. “I’m manly.”
She shrugged as she puffed on the cigarette. “With those eyebrows?” She laughed.
He waved her words away and walked toward the bathroom. “I’ll just have a shower. Not sure about being a Fredrick Wilson either.” He closed the door behind him but walked back out almost immediately. “What’re you all dressed up for anyway?” he asked.
“Nothing. I’ve just gotta make a quick trip into the city, that’s all.”
“Are you nuts? Why would you want to go into the city? You’re probably one of the most wanted people in New York right now.”
She took a swig from a glass of water. “I’ve just got something to take care of. I won’t be long.”
“And I don’t have a say in this? It’s not just you on the line here. It’s both of us. We’ll be getting out of the country in a few days. Why would you want to risk that?”
“It’s my mother, okay?” she blurted and wiped a tear from her eye. “She’s been right round the corner from me these last three years and I haven’t go
ne to see her. I haven’t even parked across the street to see if she was okay. All those things you said last night about family and all just got me thinking.”
Tobias held her by the shoulders. “And you can see her when all this is over and our names are cleared. She’s not going anywhere. Or do you want her to see you when you’re locked up? Because that’s what will happen if we go there. They’ll probably be waiting for you.”
She pushed his arms away and picked up a light gray cardigan from the sofa and put it on. “I didn’t ask you to come with me. I’m not leaving this country until I at least see her. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone or if I’ll ever come back.”
Tobias stood in front of her and rested his forehead against hers. “We’re in this together. Never forget that. Let me just wash up and I’ll come with you.” He kissed her and walked into the bathroom.
Barely ten seconds later, she banged on the door. “Where the fuck are the keys, Tobias?” she shouted.
He laughed to himself as he stepped into the shower. He was definitely not going to let her leave without him.
***
As they headed back to the city, Tobias continuously smiled at Annabel, but she didn’t return the favor; she hardly even looked at him. The interior of the Audi sedan they were in was impeccably understated. Upon seeing it for the first time a few weeks back, he hadn’t asked Annabel where she’d acquired it; he just enjoyed the comfort. He lowered the visor of his baseball cap and rested his head against the window.
Annabel had packed almost everything in the trunk, including all her weapons. When he asked her why, she merely said it was in case they couldn’t go back to Staten Island for whatever reason. He believed she had no intention of returning.
After they crossed I-278, Tobias sat up again and stared directly at Annabel, but she appeared to be oblivious. “So you’re not talking to me for this whole trip?”
She remained expressionless.
“Tell me something. If I didn’t take the keys, would you have waited?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Probably not.”
The Kiss after Midnight (The Midnight Trilogy) Page 19
