25 hours until the shot
Holly drove a car that was smaller than my briefcase. A little Honda that smelled of makeup and bubble gum. The Lizard followed behind us, David sitting low in the passenger seat of the Lizard’s new black Transit. We pulled in at the pier and waited for Boo. Clouds spoiled the full moon. It was past eight, and I’d called Gerry Sinton from a pay phone on Ninety-eighth Street and told him I was bringing the file and the client to their offices at seven thirty for a strategy meeting.
While we waited, I thought over the evidence against David and wondered how the hell I was going to challenge it the next morning. I put it out of my mind by calling Christine. She said she and Amy were fine. They’d ordered pizza and hadn’t left the hotel. I could tell it was bullshit. Amy was crying softly in the background, even with the TV turned up to drown out the noise. My jaw worked at the anger building inside me. Eventually, Christine relented.
“Of course she’s terrified, Eddie. I am, too,” she said, the timbre in her voice wet with tears, her throat hoarse.
“I’m going to make this okay. I’ll make sure the police don’t come looking for you.”
“And what about the firm?” she said.
“The FBI are going to take them down. I can help with that, but I have to make sure you’re out of it first. There’s something I need from you. It’ll help. What’s the Harland and Sinton Wi-Fi password for today?”
“Why?”
“I need it. I told you I’m going to fix things, so I need the password.”
“You can’t do anything illegal, Eddie.”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to. Password.”
“It’s chimera87. But they’ve probably changed it by now.”
I swore under my breath.
“Child says he can probably break in, as long as he’s in range. How do you get the password? E-mail?”
“They send a text. Look, you don’t have to do this, Eddie. I got myself into this. I should just go talk to the FBI and hold my hands up.”
“No, do not do that. I can fix it…”
“Sometimes there are things you can’t fix—”
“Like our marriage? That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”
Silence.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Amy misses you. I … I miss you.”
Neither of us could speak for a time. We just listened to each other’s breath.
“Don’t get yourself killed. If I go down … Amy needs at least one parent,” she said.
“I’ll be all right, but if something does happen, don’t go to the FBI. Run and take Amy with you.”
Headlights came up behind us. I could tell they were from a van, so I got out and waited for Boo. Boo Johnson was the toughest woman I’d ever met, and one of the smartest. A born con artist. I couldn’t make out the livery on the van from my position, not in the dark. So I moved toward them, meeting them halfway up the lane to Pier 39.
The van came to a slow, gradual stop, the passenger door opened, and out stepped a freakishly long pair of pale, muscular legs. She closed the door to the van and, careful to avoid injuring her ankles in her tall stilettos, she strode toward me.
When I’d first met Boo I was a con man. She’d worked a couple of jobs with me, mostly light work, setting up fake car accidents. Boo had that look about her, like she was a movie star; it was a glow, almost. She wore a bright fire-engine-red blouse, cut to her stomach, and a tight black skirt. Her bleached-blond hair had been cut short and held at an impossible angle by a half bottle of hairspray. The sun had gone down long ago, but Boo always wore her shades. Behind those wide oval glasses were a set of eyes that could throw a priest off the top of a tall building.
She cocked her hip and said, “Good enough?”
For a second I couldn’t connect the question. Then I saw the laminated pass in her hand. I took it from her and examined it. There was no doubt that it looked authentic.
“Not bad for an hour’s work. Who’s the artist?”
“Little guy in Queens, goes by the name of Georgie,” said Boo.
“Tell him I like his work. I might have need of his services one day.”
The Lizard shook hands with the van driver, a big guy in a blue sweater, leather jacket, ripped jeans, and a baseball cap. He looked handsome. She introduced him as Roger. We shook hands and then he went back to his van.
“Roger and I are just friends, for now,” said Boo, with a smile.
“Will he hold up?” I asked.
“Definitely. As far as he’s concerned, it’s like any other work night. I’m more concerned about Hansel and Gretel,” said Boo, as she peered at Holly and David.
“Leave them to me,” I said.
Both of them looked nervous as hell. David was staring out at the water, lost. Holly tapped her feet, her hands stuffed into her pockets. They both snapped to attention as I approached.
“Holly, you don’t need to do this,” I said.
“He’s right,” said David.
“No, I’m his PA. They’ll be wondering why I’m not there if I don’t show.”
In spite of her obvious anxiety, there was a determination in Holly, and it was something more than loyalty. David was at home in front of a computer or in a business meeting, but I got the impression that when it came to the real world he needed a guide, and that was Holly. He was damn lucky to have her.
“Okay, you know the setup. Gerry Sinton needs you in the ground, David. In fact, they’ll kill all of us given half a chance. This is a con. It will ensure that they can’t make a move on us tonight without implicating the firm. As much as they want us dead, they’re only doing it to protect themselves, so they won’t take a chance if they think taking us out can be traced back to them. The con protects us, but it will only work if we all absolutely believe it. You have to live it. If you look nervous, if you look like someone walking into a building full of people that want to kill you—guess what? It’s over. We’re going to your lawyer’s office to discuss your defense, David, nothing more.”
They nodded.
They understood, but I wasn’t convinced they’d hold up.
“Just follow Boo’s lead. Don’t talk to security. Leave it to me and Boo. David, when you’ve got what you need, I want you to say that you’re tired—that you need to sleep before the prelim. That’s the signal. We’ll wrap up and get the hell out of there.”
“What happens if they see through this? What happens if they try to kill me?” said David.
“They won’t,” I said.
David, Holly, and I piled into her car. Boo, Roger, and the Lizard got into Roger’s van.
We set off, and I rehearsed with David some code words so he could let me know his progress, and the word to let me know he’d been made.