Flushed with success, Jeffrey was eager for more. Somewhere in the apartment had to be evidence hinting at the nature of the conspiracy. Quickly searching the rest of the kitchen cabinets, Jeffrey ferreted out what he'd originally come for: a brown paper shopping bag.
Going back into the living room, he rifled through the desk rapidly, finding a number of letters and bills. He put them all in the paper bag. Then, going into the bedroom, he started through the bureau. In the second drawer he found a cache of
Playgirl
magazines. He left them alone. In the third drawer he found a number of letters, more than he'd bargained for. Pulling a chair over, he started a rough sorting.
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Kelly was nervously drumming her fingers on the steering wheel and fidgeting in her seat. A car had moved out of a parking place two doors down from Trent's building, and she'd passed a few minutes backing into it. Glancing up at Trent's open window, she wondered what was keeping Jeffrey. The longer he took, the more nervous she became. What could he be doing up there? How long could it take to search a one-bedroom apartment?
Garden Street was not a busy street, but while Kelly waited, a half dozen cars turned at Revere Street and drove by. The
drivers seemed to be searching for parking places. So Kelly wasn't surprised when an additional pair of headlights suddenly appeared from Revere Street and crept toward her. What caught her attention was that the car stopped directly in front of Trent's building and double-parked. The car's headlights snapped off and the parking lights came on.
Kelly twisted around to see a man in a dark sweater get out of the passenger side of the car and walk around to the sidewalk. He stretched as the driver got out. The driver was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was carrying a satchel. The two men laughed about something. They seemed in no hurry. The younger one finished a cigarette and threw the butt into the gutter. Then the two men went into Trent's building.
Kelly looked at the car. It was a big, shiny, black Lincoln Town Car whose back bristled with a variety of antennae. The car appeared distinctly out of place and gave her a bad feeling. She wondered if she should lean on her horn, yet she hated to alarm Jeffrey needlessly. She made a move to get out of her car, then decided to stay put. She looked back up at Trent's window, as if her staring alone could bring Jeffrey safely out.
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“If you can prove to me I can count on you, I got big plans for you, Nicky,” Frank said as they climbed the stairs. “With Tony gone there's a gap in my organization. You know what I mean?”
“All you gotta do is tell me something once and it's done,” Nicky said.
Frank was wondering how the hell he was going to find this doctor. He was going to need somebody to do a lot of running around. Nicky was perfect even if he was a little stupid.
They arrived at the fifth floor. Frank was out of breath. “I gotta cut down on the pasta,” he said as he pulled Harding's keys out of his pocket. He looked at the lock and tried to guess which key was the right one. Unable to decide, he stuck the first one into the lock and tried to turn it. No luck. He tried the second one and it turned. He pushed the door in but it was stopped abruptly by its chain. “What the hell?” Frank questioned.
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Jeffrey had heard the first key rattling in the lock. He'd sat bolt upright in terror. His first thought was totally irrational: Trent had not been killed. By the time Frank tried the second key, Jeffrey was rushing past the door in a panic. By the time Nicky, having crashed through the door, came stumbling into the room, Jeffrey was already at the window.
“It's the doctor!” Jeffrey heard someone yell. He sprang over the windowsill as if he were running the high hurdles. This time he cleared it in a single bound. In seconds, Jeffrey was scrambling up the fire escape.
Reaching the roof, he followed his previous path, vaulting to successive rooftops. But this time he passed the headhouse he'd used yesterday, fearing its hook lock would still be as he'd left it. Behind him, he could hear the clatter of pursuing footsteps. Jeffrey guessed these strangers were the same men who had been at the Hatch Shell, men Kelly thought were professional killers. In coming to Trent's apartment, he hadn't thought of them.
Jeffrey frantically tried several headhouses, but each one's door was secured. It wasn't until he got to the corner building that he found one ajar. Rushing inside, Jeffrey yanked the door closed and felt for a lock to secure behind him. But there wasn't one there. He turned and started down the stairs. The men behind had gained ground. As he neared street level, he could tell they were not far behind him.
When he reached the street, Jeffrey made a snap decision. He knew he would not have time to reach Kelly and get into her car before the men were on him, so instead he turned and ran down Revere Street. He was not about to jeopardize Kelly's safety any more than he already had. He'd try to lose his pursuers before returning to get her.
Behind him he heard the men reach the street and start after him. He didn't have much of a lead. Jeffrey turned left on Cedar and ran past a laundry and a convenience store. There was a handful of people on the sidewalk. Jeffrey began to distinguish the footfalls of the faster of his pursuers. It seemed one was in much better shape than the other and was closing distance.
Turning again on Pinckney Street, Jeffrey ran down the hill. His familiarity with Beacon Hill was not extensive. He only prayed he wouldn't end up in a blind alley. But Pinckney Street opened up into Louisburg Square.
Jeffrey realized he'd have to find a way to hide if he wanted to evade his pursuers. He'd never outrun them. Seeing the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the central green of Louisburg Square, he ran directly to it and scrambled up, braving its chest-high, pointed spikes. Leaping into the grass beyond, his shoes sank deep into the turf. Rushing forward, he ran headlong into dense shrubbery and dove to the moist earth. Then he held his breath, waiting.
Jeffrey heard the men coming down Pinckney Street. The
sounds of their feet slapping against the pavement echoed off the façades of the elegant brick buildings. One of them soon appeared, running into the square. Having lost sight of his quarry, the man immediately slowed, then stopped. The other joined him moments later. They spoke briefly between gasping breaths.
In the light of the gas lamps that surrounded the square, Jeffrey caught a glimpse of the two men as they split up. One went to the left, the other to the right. Jeffrey recognized the man on the upper roadway from the Hatch Shell stage. The other man was a stranger, and he was holding a pistol.
The men methodically searched entranceways and stairwells as well as under cars as they moved down the square. Jeffrey didn't stir even after the two had disappeared from view. He was afraid any movement might catch their attention.
When he guessed the men were near to the opposite end of the square, he thought briefly of scaling the fence and running back to Kelly. But he decided against it. He was afraid he'd be too easily seen going over the fence.
The nearby meow of a cat made Jeffrey jump. Two feet from his face was a gray tabby. Its tail stood ramrod straight in the air. The cat meowed again and moved closer to rub itself against Jeffrey's head. It began to purr loudly. Jeffrey remembered the fright Delilah had given him in Kelly's pantry. Cats had never paid much attention to him before; now they seemed to appear every time he tried to hide!
Turning his head and peering through the shrubbery, Jeffrey could see the two men conferring at the Mount Vernon end of the square. A lone pedestrian was walking along the sidewalk. Jeffrey thought about screaming for help, but the pedestrian entered one of the houses and rapidly disappeared. Jeffrey then thought about screaming for help anyway but decided against it, thinking it would probably do little but bring on a few lights. Even if someone had the presence of mind to call 911, it would take ten, fifteen minutes for the police to arrive under the best of circumstances. Besides, Jeffrey wasn't sure he wanted the police.
The two men split up again, coming back toward Pinckney Street. As they walked, they were now peering into the grassy area. Jeffrey felt his panic returning. Especially with the cat still persisting in its demands for attention, Jeffrey realized he couldn't stay put. He had to move.
Getting his feet under him, Jeffrey sprinted to the fence. He climbed over as quickly as before, but when he landed on the
cobblestones on the other side, his right ankle twisted. A stab of pain went up Jeffrey's spine.
Mindless of his ankle, Jeffrey hurled himself down Pinckney Street. Behind him he heard one of the men yell to the other. Soon their footsteps filled Pinckney Street. Jeffrey passed West Cedar and raced down to Charles. Desperate for aid, he ran directly into the street and tried to hail a passing motorist, but the drivers coming by wouldn't stop.
With his pursuers coming rapidly down Pinckney Street, Jeffrey crossed Charles and continued down to Brimmer, where he turned left. He ran to the end of the block. Unfortunately, the faster of the two men was gaining considerably.
Desperately Jeffrey turned into the Church of the Advent, hoping he could hide somewhere inside. Reaching the thick door in its gothic archway, he grasped the heavy handle and yanked. The door wouldn't budge. It was locked. Jeffrey turned back to the street just as one of the men appearedâthe man with the gun. A few moments later, the other man arrived, more winded than the first. He was the one Jeffrey had seen before. Together they slowly advanced toward him.
Jeffrey turned back to the door of the church and pounded on it in frustration. Then he felt the barrel of a gun pressed to his head. He heard the more winded man say, “Good-bye, Doctor!”
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Kelly slapped her hand against the dash. “I don't believe this!” she said aloud. What could be taking him so long? She looked up at Trent's window for what felt like the hundredth time. There was still no sign of Jeffrey.
Getting out of the car, she leaned on the roof and thought about what she could do. She could use the car-horn signal, but she was reluctant to interrupt him just because she was anxious and apprehensive. For him to be taking this long, he had to be on to something. She had half a mind to go up to the apartment herself, but was afraid that her knock at the door might scare Jeffrey into fleeing.
Kelly was at her wits' end when the shiny black Lincoln returned. Not ten minutes earlier, Kelly had seen one of the men come back to get the car. But he'd come from down the street, not from Trent's apartment building. Kelly watched the car double-park in the same spot it had before. Then the same two individuals got out of the car and went back inside Trent's building.
With her curiosity piqued, Kelly straightened up from leaning on her car and strolled over to the Lincoln to take a better look. She put her hands in her pockets as she approached the car, hoping to appear like a casual passer-by in case either of the men should suddenly reappear. When she got alongside the Lincoln, she looked up and down the street as though she were doing something wrong by indulging her curiosity. She bent over and looked in at the dash. The car had a mobile phone, but otherwise looked normal. Taking two more steps, she looked in the back, wondering why the car had so many antennas.
Kelly quickly straightened up. Someone was curled up, sleeping in the backseat. Leaning forward slowly, she looked again. One of the man's hands was twisted unnaturally behind his back. My God, thought Kelly, it was Jeffrey!
In a frenzy, she tried the door. It was locked. She ran around to the other doors. They all were secured. Desperate, she looked for something heavy, like a rock. She pried one of the bricks from the sidewalk. Running back to the Lincoln, she dashed the brick against the window on the back door. She had to smash it several times before it finally shattered in a million pieces of gravel-sized pieces of glass. Reaching in, she unlocked the door.
As she bent in and tried to rouse Jeffrey, she heard someone yell from above. She assumed it was one of the men who'd gotten out of the car. They must have heard the window break.
“Jeffrey, Jeffrey!” she cried. She had to get him out of the car. Hearing his name, he began to stir. He tried to speak but his voice was slurred. His eyelids rose slightly as he wrinkled his forehead in effort.
Kelly knew she had little time. Grasping him by his wrists, she pulled him toward her. His limp legs drooped to the ground. His body was a dead weight. He seemed to be passed out. Letting go of his wrists, she grabbed him around the chest in a bear hug and dragged him from the car.
“Try to stand, Jeffrey!” she pleaded. He was like a rag doll. She knew that if she let him go he'd slump to the pavement. It was as if they'd drugged him.
“Jeffrey!” she cried. “Walk! Try to walk!”
Summoning all her strength, Kelly dragged Jeffrey down the pavement. He tried to help, but it was as if he was a quadriplegic. He couldn't seem to put any weight on his legs, much less stand.
By the time she was abreast of her car, Jeffrey was able to support himself to some degree, but he was still too groggy to grasp their situation. Kelly leaned him against the car, bracing him
with her body. She got the back door open, then she managed to push him in. Kelly made sure he was all the way in before she slammed the door.
Opening the driver's door, she jumped in. She heard the door to Trent's building burst open and smash against its doorstop. Kelly started her engine, turned the wheel sharply to the left, and accelerated. She hit the car in front of her with enough force to throw Jeffrey to the floor in the backseat.
Putting the car in reverse, Kelly backed up, smashing the car behind her. One of the men had reached her car. He had her car door open before she could think to lock it. He seized her left arm roughly. “Not so fast, lady,” he snarled in her ear.