Dead and Gone (35 page)

“I would get …?”

“Immunity. Kiddie porn’s the only way you’re ever going down, right? The only real risk you take. You’re not going to get stung by Customs. And you don’t deal with strangers. So the only way it could ever happen is somebody drops a dime to save their own ass, and City-Wide does the search.”

“There is nothing here.”

I pitched my voice low, let him hear how deep the commitment really was: “You’re looking at the big picture, pal. And that’s a mistake. What you should be looking at is the
frame,
see?”

He took a breath. Small, cold eyes on mine. “You couldn’t deliver,” he said quietly. “We know about Wolfe. People have … talked to her before. She’s not amenable to … whatever you propose.”

“Have your lawyer talk to her again. Do it first, before you do anything for me, okay? I’ll tell you what I want, tell you right now, in this room. Just listen—I guarantee you it won’t be against you or your people. Give me a couple of days, have your lawyer go see her, all right? Nothing’s changed, you don’t have to do a thing. You decide, okay?”

He steepled his fingers again. I counted in my head. “Tell me what you want,” he said
.

I lit a smoke, centering. I’d only get one shot. “We both know how it works, you and me. Child molesters …”

His thin lips parted. I held up my hand in a “Stop!” gesture, going on before he could speak. “I’m not talking about your people now. There
are
people who molest children, right? I’m talking about rape. Sodomy. Hard, stick-it sex. It happens. Don’t go weak on me, now. I know what you do—I know what you told me. I could play it back for you, word for word. The kids you’re involved with, it’s love, right? There’s always true consent—you wouldn’t do a thing without it. I remember what you said. You’re a mentor, not a rapist. Listen good. I’m
separating
you now. Those people who say child sexual abuse is a myth—we know better, you and me. I’m not saying you do it—I’m saying it gets done. People do it, right?”

“Savages do it.”

“Right. Fathers rape their daughters, that’s no fantasy. Humans torture kids, make films of it, it’s not a myth.”

“And you think we’re all the same, you think—”

“No,” I said, eyes open and clear, calling on a childhood of treachery for the effortless lying that they made second nature to me before I was eight. “What you do, people could argue about it, but I know you love children. Maybe I don’t agree with it, but I’m not a cop. It’s not my job. It’s the baby-rapers who make your life hell, isn’t that true? You love children. You’d be as angry about torturing them as anybody else would. Even if the laws changed, even if they eliminated the age thing, made it so a kid could consent to sex, then they’d be like adults, right? And rape is rape.”

“Society calls it rape when—”

“I’m not talking about
statutory
rape, here. Listen close. Stand up to it now. I’m talking about black-glove, hand-over-the-mouth, knifepoint rape. Blood, not
Vaseline.
Pain. Screaming, life-scarring pain. A little boy ripped open, maybe one of
your
little boys … you like that picture?”

“Stop it!
Stop it, you—”

I dragged deep on my cigarette, staying inside. “That’s what I want to do—stop it. That’s what you’ve got to do. Help me.”

“I …”

“You know. You know it happens. They did it to my client. A little boy. They split him open like a ripe melon. He’s a basket case. And they videotaped it. A group. An organized group. Satanists, they call themselves, but we know what
that’s
about, don’t we?”

“I don’t deal with …” His voice faded away, sweat streaking his high forehead, tendons cabling his hands, veins like wires along his throat
.

“I know you don’t,” I finished for him. “You wouldn’t do anything like that. Or your people. I know.” I spooled velvet over him, a cop telling a rapist he understands.…
Those dirty cunts, displaying themselves, wiggling like a bitch in heat, fucking
begging
for it, right? Men like us, we understand each other.
“But freaks like that, they have to be stopped. They bring heat, and heat brings light, you know what I’m saying? You know what I do. But it’s been years, and I’ve never made trouble for you, right? So help me now. ”

“How could I—?”

“The computer. They raped that little boy to make a commercial product. Not like your icons—not to remember a boy as he was—pictures to sell. The kid was a product, and they need a market. They’ll be on the board somewhere. You could find them. Your friends could find them. That’s all I want.”

“And …”

“And, one day, if you should happen to slip yourself, Wolfe will make sure you don’t fall.”

He searched the pockets of his robe. Found a black
silk handkerchief, patted his face dry, deciding. I waited, watching the dice tumble across the green felt in my mind
.

Finally, he looked up. “Tell me what you have so far.”

“L
eave him alone!” Gem’s voice. From somewhere outside … me.

I shook my head. It wouldn’t clear. My eyes wouldn’t open, or I’d gone blind. But then my mind started to clear, and I realized my body would catch up—I’d been down there before. I concentrated on staying quiet, letting the air in my lungs bring me to the surface.

They were all standing around me in a loose semicircle. Only Lune hadn’t moved.

I took deep breaths through my nose, coming the rest of the way back.

Everyone watching could see it happening. Maybe they knew what they were seeing, maybe not. Maybe some of them had been there, too.

They all breathed in rhythm with me, helping.

I felt Gem’s hand against my cheek, her little thumb against the bullet hole, rubbing it in tiny circles.

My screen cleared. I knew where I was. Why I was there.

And where I’d been.

I turned to Lune. “You broke me out, brother,” I told him.

His eyes looked wet. Or maybe my own were still cloudy from the trip.

I
told them the whole story, exactly as it had just flashed back to me. How the freak had stumbled into the trap I’d set and found out his “immunity” was as real as his “love” for little boys. I knew he went down, heard it was a pretty significant jolt.

“He fits either side of the pattern,” Lune said. “He might want vengeance for what you did to him. Or he might believe you would be coming after him, anyway, once you connected him to Darcadia.”

“Or both,” the Latina said.

“Or both,” Lune acknowledged. “He knows you are dangerous in ways your ‘reputation’ does not indicate. And he knows you have resources within law enforcement. This Wolfe … the prosecutor who—”

“She’s gone,” I told him. “Off the job. Fired for not kissing political ass. Wolfe wouldn’t be a problem to him.”

“The way you describe her, she sounds like a fierce woman,” Heidi said. “What does she do now?”

“She runs a private network. Mostly info-trafficking.”

Clint and Minh exchanged looks, but it was Levi who put it into words: “And she still has deep law-enforcement contacts, yes?”

“She does,” I admitted.

“And if she came across this Darcadia thing, she’d know who to take it to, right?” Clint asked.

“Yeah,” I said, seeing the tiles drop into the mosaic.

“This man knows you have a … relationship with Wolfe, as well,” Lune said. It wasn’t a question.

I just nodded.

“And he must have
considerable
resources. Indicated by several authenticated factors in addition to his financing of the assassination attempt. But the Darcadia project has already taken in …?” he asked, turning to Heidi.

“No less than twenty million. Double that would not be beyond probability,” the math girl answered.

“I got it,” I told them all.

And I did. It was a familiar song. I’d learned it as a tortured baby, and heard it the rest of my life.

What it always comes down to.

Them or me.

J
ust before we were ready to pull out the next morning, I went to see Lune. He was in the command center, working at his charts.

“Lune, will you do something for me?”

“I would do anything for you,” he said. “If it wasn’t for—”

“If it wasn’t for
you
, I’d be a walking target, stumbling around in the dark until they finally took me out,” I cut him off. “I know what to do now. That isn’t the favor.”

“Just tell me.”

“Tell
me
, Lune. Tell me about your real parents.”

“Why?” he asked, topaz eyes bright with something I’d never understand.

“Because, as soon as this is over, I’m going to try and find them for you, brother.”

And for the next couple of hours, I listened while the beautiful crazy man with the desperado’s searching heart told me all about his parents, who never were.

W
e went out the same way we’d come in. Not the same route, but with Heidi and the Latina pack-muling, while Levi led the way, his sniper’s eyes checking the path. Indeh trotted alongside, happy to be out working again.

Even though it was pretty much downhill, it was a good thing we had help lugging out our stuff. Lune’s crew had put together reams of material about Darcadia and the man behind it, and I was going to need it to get my work done.

They walked with us all the way to where Levi had stashed the Land Rover. The Latina gave Gem a deep hug while Heidi shook hands with me and said, “Good luck, Burke.” Then she turned to hug Gem herself. The Latina turned her back and started walking away.

Levi drove us down through the mountains, his Canary dog on the front seat next to him. He didn’t say a word until we got into Albuquerque.

“Lune gave you a way to reach us,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“He did,” I acknowledged.

“There are always two tasks. One is to find the path; the other is to walk the path. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“There is no rule about walking the path alone,” he said.

“I won’t be,” I promised him.

“I would walk it with you, if you wish.”

I was too stunned at the Indian’s dealing himself in to say anything. Gem didn’t have that problem. “We would be honored,” she said.

O
n the trip back, I stayed inside myself, thinking through that last exchange. Gem didn’t press me, letting me have my silence. Finally, on the last leg of the flight into PDX, I told her where we stood: “What you said to the Indian … There’s no more ‘we’ in this, little girl. Understand?”

“It is not your choice,” she said, her lips drawn tight.

“You know what I have to do now?”

“Yes. I am not stupid.”

“I have to go back to New York,” I said, ignoring her tart answer. “To my family. I need a plan. This is a bad guy. With bad people backing him up. When it’s over, I’ll—”

“I will come to New York with you,” she announced, like it was something she planned to serve for dinner.

“You don’t understand, Gem. I got no place to go
to
there. I’m supposed to be dead. I don’t know who’s looking … or even if anyone is. But I have to stay
very
low. You’d just be in the way.”

“I will not. I have places I could stay there myself.”

“No.”

“No? You are my husband, not my master. I
am
going to New York. I will give you a phone number where you can find me there. I will be close, if you need me.”

“Gem …”

“In the meantime, it is better if we travel together. As I said before, that is not what people would expect of you.”

T
wo weeks later, I watched Wolfe’s tango-dancer legs flash in the sunlight as she climbed out of her battered old Audi. Her Rottweiler stayed in the car. I was glad of that, and not just because I was afraid of the beast. Seeing people with their dogs …

“I heard you were dead,” she said, sarcastically.

“Sure. Are you telling me nobody’s buying?”

“Oh, I think they are. Word is you got blown away by some drug dealers you’d ripped off a long time ago. Remember that?”

Remember it? I’d done time for it when the wheels came off. And I’d done it the right way, too. Alone
.

I didn’t bother to answer her.

“So what do you want?” she asked, gray eyes glacial.

I told her everything. Well, not everything. Nothing about Lune. Or how I got the information. But all the facts.

“So this dirtbag has graduated to international, is that what you’re telling me?” she finally asked.

“What I’m telling you is that he tried to take me out. Spent a lot of money doing it. If it’s revenge for what we did to him years ago, you could be on his list, too.”

“Fine. Now he’s on mine,” is all I got out of her.