My guts boiled.
Scanning the room, walking toward the doors, my pace quickened; I broke into a run, my head swiveling, eyes searching out my wife.
No.
She was gone, and the agents with her. Christine had been taken. I slammed open the doors. The corridor was empty save for two people. On my right, Perry Lake, or John Woodrow, according to the DA. On my left, Dell. I reminded myself that I had a job to do.
Perry Lake leaned against the wall and flicked his thumb across his cell phone. His mouth fell open when he saw me approach.
“Eddie … I … didn’t know you were in this. I’m sorry, man.”
“Take this, Mr. Woodrow. There are photographs on this phone. Make sure to answer it when it rings,” I said, handing him the cell phone that the Lizard had passed to me for this very purpose. Without another word, I turned and made my way toward Dell.
Sitting cross-legged on a bench set against the wall, Dell lifted his gaze from his cell phone and said, “It’s your own fault, Eddie. I told you what you had to do. Why can’t you listen?”
“Where is she? If she’s under arrest, she’s entitled to a phone call and an attorney.”
“That’s only if she’s booked in at a precinct or in federal lockup. You’re a lawyer—you should know that.”
“You have to process her as soon as possible. You’re holding her illegally.”
“Thinking of suing me? Think again,” he said, and stood. He motioned for me to follow him as he walked toward one of the large windows that overlooked the square. He remained a few feet from the window and gestured that I should take a look.
I felt a vibration from my cell phone. I checked it and found a text message from Christine’s number.
Third window, next to the stairwell. Take a look at the street.
I ran to the window and felt my heart plummet ten stories.
Ten floors below, on the sidewalk, Christine stared up at me. It was a fleeting moment, a terrible second of realization that hit like a hammer blow. One of the firm’s security men bundled her into a black town car. I hammered the glass, ignored the looks and cries of people in the corridor, and gritted my teeth as I saw Gerry Sinton with a cell phone in his hand, probably Christine’s. He slid into the car after her. They sped into traffic and were lost from my view.
“Don’t even think about taking a swing at me. I’m through playin’ around with you. You try anything and I’ll put you down. This is your fault. All you had to do was get me my plea. But you couldn’t do that, could you?” said Dell.
“What have you done?” I said, shaking my head.
“I haven’t done anything. We let her go. Somebody else picked her up. Nothing to do with me.”
My ears were ringing with blood and my hands trembled. I thought about my hands—slipping around Dell’s throat, squeezing his neck, feeling his windpipe collapse, watching the capillaries in his eyes burst.
He checked his watch.
“If Child’s algo is right, the money lands in an account in central Manhattan in four hours. If I don’t have my plea by then, I can’t guarantee her safety. Right now the firm wants to know exactly what Christine has heard about all of this and whom she’s told. They’ll take her back to their offices. They want to know what the FBI has on them. They already know there’s some kind of deal, because an FBI agent is handing you documents in court. That was stupid.”
He was right. I hadn’t thought about how that would look if the firm was watching. Stupid move. I turned and heard Perry answer the phone I’d handed to him. Within a few seconds he’d sunk to his knees. I knew how he felt.
“How long can she hold out, do you think? An hour? Five minutes? Five seconds? My guess is they won’t make their final play until the money hits Harland’s account. We’ll keep an eye on things, make sure she isn’t hurt too bad.
“I’m gonna give you one last chance, Eddie. I don’t want to subpoena David Child. I want him under an agreement, under my control. Doesn’t matter what kinda deal the DA is offering. Just take it. I can always get a few years shaved off if he testifies the way I want him to.”
“You mean you want him to lie. You want him to lie about murdering his girlfriend and testify that his system was designed and built for the firm so that they could launder money.”
“You only getting it now? I thought you were smart.”
“He’ll never admit to a murder he didn’t commit, and as for the system, he built it in good faith. If the firm used it illegally, that’s their bad. It’s a lie, and it ruins him.”
“He’s already ruined. Even if he’s acquitted, people will never be convinced that he’s innocent. This kind of shit sticks forever. But it doesn’t have to go bad for Christine. As soon as he’s pleaded, we’ll get her safe. It’s your call. Don’t worry about David Child; it’s like I said—shit sticks, and he’s in far too deep for you to help him.”
Dell shouldered past me, back into the courtroom. I swung back and saw Perry moving toward me as quick as his limp would allow. He handed me back the cell, mouthed the word “sorry,” then shuffled into the elevator, almost falling in his haste.
The corridor shrank. I swallowed, trying to hold down the vomit. I fought for control.
The Lizard stepped out of the court and joined me. I had to lean on his shoulder, take deep breaths. We took a corner, so we could talk without being overheard.
“Turns out your old buddy Perry didn’t want to meet Bert and Ernie. He said he had to go away for a while, visit his aunt in Topeka.”
“Dell let Christine slip out of court. The firm was waiting for her. This is all pressure to make me bust David’s case and force him to plea. Did Perry tell you who paid him to crash into David’s car?”
“He recognized the guy from the photos on the phone. Said it was the man in photograph three.”
“Was he sure?”
“One hundred percent. You gonna make David take the plea?” he said.
“I don’t trust Dell. He’s happy to risk Christine’s life. I’m not so sure he’s willing to save it.”
The Lizard brought up the third photograph on the camera phone. It was the photo I’d taken of Langhiemer.
“Goddamn it, David was right,” I said.
“You said you needed the Lizard,” said the Lizard.
“The firm has Christine. I think they’ve taken her to the Lightner Building. You remember the first day I met you, you had a steel box in the back of your van with some toys in it?”
“It’s still there,” he said.
“This is what I need you to do…”
The Lizard bolted down the steps, headed out with a Hail Mary. He was probably the one man I completely trusted in this whole damn situation. Heavy footsteps behind me. Kennedy tapped me on the shoulder.
I said, “It’s Langhiemer. He paid the driver to crash into David’s car. I just had it confirmed. He’s the one who set up this whole damn thing. And I can’t use it in court. You need to pick him up.”
“We will, but we don’t have it all yet. This changes things,” he said, and held out his cell phone. It had an image on the screen.
“You asked me to check out who had access to that French ballistics paper on GSR and air bags. I called the university, and the only person who has ordered it online was you, yesterday. They keep a record. Other than that, the report has never been published in any periodical. The only other occasion in which sections of the report have been made available was at an Interpol conference last year. I got the names of those who attended. Nothing stood out. So I called Interpol and asked for the security IDs for all the delegates who attended that lecture. Fourteen attended. This is the one we’re looking for. Sarah Callan.”
I looked again at the image on Kennedy’s cell. This time I made the connection.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said.
He shook his head.
“What the hell does it mean, Eddie?”
Right then I didn’t know.
“You got background on this Sarah Callan?”
“My director is e-mailing me. I told him what’s happening on the task force, and he’s just as pissed as I am. He doesn’t want this to blow up in our faces.”
I told him about Christine. He flinched.
“I heard the task force is on their way to the Lightner Building now. The team is gonna clear out the associates and arrest Sinton and the firm’s security personnel. She’ll be okay. I’ll get Ferrar and Weinstein to make sure she’s looked after,” he said.