Tommy glared at him for a moment and then sighed. “They didn’t leave me a hell of a lot of choice,” he said. “Of course, you knew that would happen, didn’t you?”
The FBI man pulled a chair from its position in the corner and drew it up close to the bed. Then, he sat down and leaned forward.
“Look, Wilson,” he said, his voice warm and friendly. “I know you’re pissed. I can’t blame you. You’ve been kidnapped, dragged out here and ordered to assist in a project you don’t believe in. That makes you angry. Hell, it makes me angry. If it’s any consolation, I think it was the wrong thing to do. I’m taking steps to see what I can do to change all of this.”
“Really?” Tommy said, his voice filled with sarcasm. “And what steps would they be?”
Belcher rubbed his chin for a moment and said, “For one, I’ve talked with your old pal, Ted Kowalczyk.”
“Who?”
Belcher laughed. “Come on, Wilson. I know you wrote Ted a letter. He told me all about it. He thinks you’re dead and I didn’t let him know any different. But I intend to, if I get some cooperation from you. The fact is, I want to tell him everything. I don’t think it’s right that the man spends his time trying to solve a murder that never took place. Do you?”
Again, Wilson’s eyes turned back to the ceiling. “You’re the man who made it all happen, Belcher. You and your associates. If you didn’t think it was the right thing to do, why did you do it in the first place?”
“You don’t know this,” Belcher went on, not bothering to answer the question, “but Ted and I were real close when we were agents together. As a matter of fact, we worked together on the case that got his family killed.”
At that, Tommy bolted upright.
Belcher pressed on. “It’s true,” he said. “In fact, I was the man in charge of that entire investigation. I was the one who checked out the daughter and concluded she was not involved with her father. If anyone was at fault, it was me, not Ted. I’ve had that on my conscience for long enough. If you think I’m about to bring any harm to him now, you’re crazy. Fact is, this thing has gone too far already.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I understand what they’re trying to do. You must, too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have agreed to help them. We’ve got one chance to stop this thing and one chance only. The problem is we have to do it in total secrecy. Shubert and Graves may be total assholes, but they’re right about that. Having said that, I still don’t think it’s right that people are kidnapped and held against their will, no matter how important the reasons. I want you to believe that.”
Wilson grunted. “If you’re looking for some sort of understanding from me, Mr. Belcher, you’re wasting your time. I’ve agreed to help these people because they hold the key to saving a lot of lives. You, on the other hand, hold the key to nothing. You’re just another dumb cop. If you really feel the way you do, you should have done something about it before you grabbed Vance and me and made it look like we were dead. That was the time to stand up and be counted. Not now. They’ll never let you make a move.” He smiled and said, “Hell, you might have a room out here yourself before the day is out.”
Belcher stood up and started pacing the floor. “You might be right at that.” Then he turned and faced Tommy. “Look … you think you’re so goddam smart … how come you didn’t go to the press yourself instead of shooting your mouth off?”
Tommy waved a hand in the air. “I didn’t want to create a panic,” he said. “Besides … I never had a chance to really think it out before you and your goons clapped me in here.”
“Weak excuse, pal. Very weak. I’d call it a cop-out. As much as you want to sit there and bitch, you know damn well that this is the only thing they can do. Problem is, more and more people know about this. You gotta help me.”
“Help you? Why?”
“I’ll tell you why,” Belcher said, his voice rising. “I’m trying to save a mutual friend a lot of grief. Ted Kowalczyk is one stubborn cookie. He’s liable to get himself in serious trouble if he pushes this thing too far. Already, he’s talked to your ex-wife. If I have to bring him in, I’ll have to bring her as well. You want that to happen?”
Tommy Wilson’s face turned beet red. “She’s got nothing to do with any of this. You bastards stay the hell away from her!”
Belcher extended his arms. “It’s not me you have to worry about, pal. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m on your side. I need to know what you told Ted.”
Tommy shook his head. “I told him nothing! Maybe I mentioned NADAT by mistake, but that’s all it was. The reason he’s nosing around is because he thinks I’m dead and he wants to make sure it was really an accident, that’s all. He knows nothing about anything else.”
“Why’d you write him at all?”
“It’s personal.”
Belcher snorted. “Personal? You think getting killed isn’t personal?”
Tommy stood up and pointed a finger at his interrogator. “So … now you’re going to start killing people, is that it? I was right! As soon as this is over, you’ll bury Vance and me out in the desert.” He shook his head and lay back on the bed. “You people are crazy! Nuts! A lot of people are going to die because of your incredible stupidity. Jesus! If I wasn’t observing this with my own eyes, I’d have said such a thing was impossible!
“And if,” he continued, “if you and Ted did work together … and if you were involved in the case that cost him his family … If you do anything that brings harm to him, you’ll burn in hell, Belcher. No project is worth selling your soul for. And that’s what you’d be doing. If I were you, I’d make sure that you did everything in your power to see he was protected from the vultures that inhabit this place. I really would.”
An almost involuntary groan escaped from the lips of George Belcher. He’d tried to be honest with the man and it hadn’t worked. The man still didn’t trust him. Now he had to face Shubert again and …
Jesus!
* * *
Moments later, Belcher was back in Shubert’s office, his face wearing a phony smile. “After talking to Wilson, I think I can get Kowalczyk to go along with us voluntarily.”
Shubert shook his head. “That isn’t your decision, Belcher. You’re to do as you’re told. This operation is in the hands of Robert Graves, not you.”
“Look,” Belcher said, his exasperation wiping the smile from his face. “You had us grab Gifford and what happened? Wilson got suspicious and contacted Kowalczyk. Now Kowalczyk is all over the place and in less than a day, he’s pretty well got things figured out. I guarantee you, he’s already made enough contacts that if we simply go out and grab him, this thing will bust wide open.
“Let me talk to him,” he pleaded. “Let me bring him out here on his own hook. I know the man. He’s sharp. If we handle it right, maybe we can turn things around, but right now, you guys are about to mess it up totally.”
Shubert sighed and threw a pencil at the wall. “What does it take to make you understand, Belcher? This operation is set. You’re to grab Kowalczyk and bring him out here. That’s it. If you don’t do as you’re told, we’ll give the assignment to someone else and your career will be at an end.”
“Is that what Graves said?”
“I don’t need to talk to him about this.”
At that precise moment, George Belcher wanted more than anything else in the world to smash a fist into the arrogant face of Jason Shubert. But he didn’t. Instead, he held his hands in the air as though surrendering and said, “Maybe you’re right. But at least let me find out what he knows. Let me determine how far he’s gone before I bring him in. It would make sense to do that much, don’t you think?”
Shubert rolled his eyes. “What difference does it make? Bring him and the woman out here. Then we’ll find out what he knows.”
For a moment they just glared at each other. Then George Belcher sighed deeply and said, “OK, OK. I’ll get on it.”
“Good,” Shubert said, sound
ing like a harried parent who’d just had an argument with a recalcitrant child. “You do that. And stop trying to outthink Robert Graves. It can’t be done, believe me.”
Belcher sighed again and said, “I believe you.”
As he drove back along the narrow roads, George Belcher fully expected a jeep full of soldiers to stop him and haul him off to some dungeon. But, much to his relief, it never happened. When the plane left the ground at the Las Vegas airport, he finally started to relax, if only for the short duration of the flight.
As for Jason Shubert, he sat behind the desk chewing his nails. Security was his responsibility. If George Belcher went off the deep end and failed to carry out his orders, it would be Shubert who would feel the pain. But he had no other choice. Because of the strict guidelines, he’d been severely limited in the number of people he could use in this operation. He’d brought Belcher into the program after carefully interviewing the man and making a judgment about him. A judgment that now seemed in error.
Belcher wasn’t the cool, collected professional Jason had thought he was. The pressure was getting to him and it was starting to show. All because of the fact that he and this Kowalczyk character had known each other in times past. Something that had not been known to Jason Shubert until much too late. The two men shared a bond that went even deeper than simple acquaintanceship. A fluke. A coincidence.
But it was too late to make a change now. Time was of the essence. It was Belcher or no one.
And in his gut, Jason Shubert had the horrible feeling that George Belcher was going to ruin everything. He shuddered at the prospect of explaining his failure to Robert Graves. But it had to be done. If Belcher …
With hands that trembled, Shubert picked up the phone and started punching numbers.
Fifteen
* * *
When Ted awakened in the morning, the beautiful woman beside him was still sound asleep, her dark hair strewn across the pillow, her mouth partly open, a look of complete peace on her face.
It was Saturday. Surely, she didn’t work on Saturday.
Carefully, he slipped out of bed and padded, still nude, into the kitchen. He looked around and located the coffee and the brewer, put some coffee in the basket, water in the reservoir, and switched it on. It began to gurgle immediately, and the room quickly filled with the welcome aroma of fresh coffee.
He went through the cupboards, looking for cups, when he heard a partially suppressed giggle behind him.
She was standing there, dressed in a soft blue silk robe, one hand covering her mouth, her eyes dancing in glee.
“I thought you were asleep,” he said, sheepishly.
“I felt you leave.”
“Oh.”
She came to him and gently placed her hands on his shoulders. Another giggle. “Do you always traipse around the house naked?”
“Only when I’m visiting members of the opposite sex,” he said, grinning, as he wrapped his big arms around her. “Actually, all my stuff is still in the car. I was afraid I’d wake you. Now that you’re up, I’ll get dressed.”
“Please don’t,” she said, pulling away from him and slipping off the robe.
And then they were in the middle of the kitchen, embracing each other, standing there like kids in the first thralls of fresh awareness.
Again, her hand clasped his and she was pulling him back to the bedroom.
“What about the coffee?” he said.
“Later. First you, then coffee.”
Actually, she took him to the shower first. She soaped him down and he did the same to her. Then they stood under the needle spray, its warmth making him almost sleepy again. He reached around her and turned it full to cold, then laughed as she let out a horrific screech, practically flying from the stall.
“You rat!” she screamed, as she rubbed her shivering body with a thick towel.
He stuck his head out over the shower door and grinned at her. “Come on back in,” he said. “It’s good for you. Really! Gets the adrenaline going.”
“My adrenaline is already going,” she answered, her eyes sparkling with feigned anger. “At least, it was.”
He turned the water back to warm, shut it off, then stepped out onto the thick carpet. He took her into his arms and said, “I’m sorry.”
“Do you always do that?” she asked, the towel wrapped around her, the dark, still-wet hair plastered all over her face.
“Yes. It’s a good way to jump-start the heart in the morning. Gets the blood moving.”
“Some day your heart will just stop. God!”
“I really am sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to turn you off.”
She handed him a towel of his own and then put an arm around his neck, drawing his head down to hers. “I’m not turned off,” she said, “I’m just not into cold showers before making love. Is that a Polish custom or are you just a little weird?”
“I think I’m a little weird,” he said, as his lips covered hers. “I have a sure-fire way to warm you up.”
Then, they were back in the bed, making love in the semidarkness of a not yet risen sun. By the time they were finished, the room was aglow with bright light.
They showered again. This time, he kept his hands off the temperature dial. After helping each other dry off, he started getting dressed while she threw on a robe and headed for the kitchen. By the time he reached it, the coffee was poured and some raisin toast sat on small plates beside it. Blessed coffee. His body ached, making him realize how incredibly long it had been since he’d last made love like this. All of a sudden, he felt old.
He wasn’t, really. It was just that so much had happened in a very short period of time. And then, as he looked at her across the table, the feeling left him as quickly as it had arrived. A whole life, a new life, lay ahead of him. It was there if he wanted it.
He wanted it.
“Do you work on Saturday?”
“No,” she said.
“Well, I have to see some people.”
“I know. Will you stay here while you’re in town? I’d really like it if you did.”
He grinned and said, “I don’t know. You might wear me out.”
Her face took on a look of deep concern. “Am I too … aggressive?”
He took her hand in his. “No, no. I was only kidding. It was wonderful. It is wonderful. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. There’s not a damn thing wrong with you. You’re terrific. You know that.”
“You make me feel terrific,” she said.
For a moment they just stared at each other in that special way that lovers have of looking beyond the eyes, into the very souls of each other. And then the visage of her lovely face was replaced by another … Tommy’s face; it seemed to loom in front of him, as if reminding him why he’d come.
There was never a good time, he thought, hating that he’d have to bring sadness and pain into her warm, gentle eyes. But it had to be done. It had to be done before this thing went too far.
“We have to talk,” he said, abruptly.
“OK,” she said, suddenly on guard, still worried that she’d been too forward, too quick to let her feelings be known.
He told her everything.
He told her about his suspicions, Tommy’s letter, the report, the FBI surveillance of him … everything. When he was finished, she was stunned. Much like he’d been when first confronted by this excruciatingly complex problem.
For some, it would be a simple thing. They’d pass the information along to someone else and wash their hands of the entire matter. But for Ted Kowalczyk, it was anything but a simple matter.
He’d been brought up in a home darkened by terrible memories that refused to fade. His father had died when Ted was just a child. His mother, embittered, had turned her pain into a crusade. As soon as he was old enough to understand, she’d told him about his heritage and inculcated him with a value system that placed the sanctity of human life above all things.
The death camps were not only a re
gular topic, they were the focal point of her entire philosophy. It wasn’t just that the Germans had murdered millions. It was the others she railed against. The ones who knew and failed to act. To her, they were just as evil.
He’d been taught to respect life. He’d been taught to be responsible. He’d been taught to carefully weigh each decision with respect to its effect on others.
In his darkest moments, he wondered if all of that teaching had slowed his reaction to danger when it had counted most. It was a question that could never be answered.
And now this.
It wasn’t simple. It wasn’t simple at all.
“So,” he continued, pushing the thoughts from his mind, “I’m going to see Dr. Wickshire today and depending on what she has to say, I’ll decide what to do. I have to do something. I just can’t sit by and let this happen. But you can see that turning this over to the newspapers is not the thing to do.”
“I agree with you,” she said.
“And,” he continued, “I won’t rest until I know who killed Tommy.”
“I know.”
“The problem is … there are risks here. Big risks. I don’t know how deep this thing goes. It might be better if we didn’t see each other until … well … until it’s all out in the open. I don’t want to put you in any danger.”
“You don’t mean that,” she said, her face losing that look of shock. “I mean about not seeing me. I understand your concern, but …”
“Yes, I do.”
She smiled thinly and said, “No … you don’t. You could have lied. You could have not told me. You wouldn’t have told me if you’d really wanted to stay away from me. You just wanted me to know the risks. I understand that. I accept them. I want to help. I want you to be with me. I’ll take my chances. I have that right, Ted.”
Was she right? Was that the real reason he’d told her? He wasn’t sure himself. But her response warmed him. That, he was sure of.
“OK,” he said, rubbing her hand, now suddenly cold. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. This time, I’ll bring up my bags.”
The Big One Page 15
