Whistler's Angel (12 page)

He was right, up to a point. He was almost always right. Alicia had always been in the back of his mind. One thing leading to another has to have a place to start. She was why he learned to do what he’d been doing.

Where it led, in the end, was to Claudia being shot. There was no direct connection. Just a chain of events. Except Claudia being shot was really more of a beginning. She’d been given back her life. And so had he.

But that day, in the hospital, he was still blind to it. He thought that what he’d had, what he’d almost had, was lost. He felt sure that if Claudia should come to her senses, she’d want nothing further to do with him. He knew that if she didn’t, there still was no way that he would take advantage of her sickness. He told himself that all he cared about now was to see that his promise to her mother would be kept. That Aubrey wouldn’t bother them, ever again.

He’d learned only one way to make sure of that.

He had no desire to confront Felix Aubrey. He had no wish to hear that
toad of a man try to offer a deal or shift the blame. He would do this without any help from his father. He intended to simply put a hole in Aubrey’s head and then pay a call on Stanton Poole.

The more he thought about it, Poole had to have known what his deputy, Aubrey, was up to. At least in broad strokes. The punitive part. He had to have known because Aubrey would have told him in order to cover himself. And Poole had seen the ledger. He knew about the ledger. He knew at least enough that, during that one meeting, he’d told Aubrey to put it away.

Poole, however, could deny that he’d known and he’d almost be telling the truth. Poole never approved anything, not in so many words. His practice was to either turn his back, saying nothing, or to cite a selection from the Bible. He would not cite the text, just the chapter and verse. He might say, for example, “Matthew 5:29. You’d do well to reflect on it, gentlemen.”

Aubrey understood that the turning of his back meant, “Yes, but I know nothing about it.” The biblical reference meant much the same thing, but
it included God’s approval as well. The operative text within 5:29 was the
admonition, “if thy right eye offend thee’ pluck it out…” Felix Aubrey would then order that someone be plucked. Most times it meant property. Sometimes it meant a life.

Whistler had been involved in a number of these actions, but his role has been limited to reconnaissance and disabling security equipment. In the beginning they seemed clearly justified. The targets were all either criminal or corrupt and the evidence, though not actionable, was unquestioned. They were rich men who funded major drug operations but who kept a respectable front. But then he learned that some who’d been targeted by Aubrey seemed to have no history of involvement with drugs. All they had in common was that they were rich and, apparently, had made enemies in Washington. Some might have made their money by questionable means, but if so, that was none of Aubrey’s business. He was plucking them all the same.

Whistler intended to do his own plucking, but he couldn’t locate either Aubrey or Poole. Neither man had shown up at the Center’s office building even though that building was exceptionally secure. Their homes had been abandoned in obvious haste. Whistler knew that because he had been inside both of them.

It came as no great surprise that they would go to ground after learning of their losses thus far. They had to have assumed that he’d be coming for them. He’d expected them, however, to set out some bait and try to lure him into a trap. The least that he’d expected was to find well-armed men waiting for him in each of their homes. These men would have been told to try to take him alive so that Aubrey could trade him for that ledger. He doubted that they would have tried very hard. If Whistler, therefore, had found them waiting in ambush, he probably would have snapped one of their necks before departing as quietly as he’d come. He’d have left one there for the others to find. It might cause them to rethink their career choice.

But there wasn’t any ambush or bait. There was no attempt to take him at all. On the contrary, from what he could learn, Aubrey’s people had been given explicit instructions to take no action against him. Whistler didn’t understand it. He could only guess why. Perhaps Aubrey and Poole were having some trouble knowing who they could trust to defend them. And, for that matter, they couldn’t be sure of who, or how many, they were up against. Whistler couldn’t say he blamed them. He didn’t know either. He was going to keep looking all the same.

On the fourth or fifth night of his hunt for Felix Aubrey, he was watching

the home of an Aubrey family member who had profited from some of Aubrey’s seizures. The home, quite a large one, was surrounded by a wall and had every security device. Two large German Shepherds roamed the grounds. He had no reason to think that Aubrey would be there. Hiding out with a relative would not
have been smart, even one that seemed so well protected. It was more that he’d run out of places to look.

He watched from his car until almost midnight. No one had emerged. The last lights had gone out. He decided not to bother going in for a look. He’d have to kill both those dogs to no purpose. In disgust, he reached to turn on his ignition, but froze when he sensed a movement to his rear. A shadow came forward. A hand tapped on his window.

A voice said, “Don’t get nervous. It’s me.”

Whistler showed both his hands and he turned his head slowly. Donald Beasley was standing, arms folded, by his door.

He said, “Talk to me. Roll down your window.”

Whistler let out a sigh and obeyed.

“This ain’t too smart, is it? You know better than this. Never do things like this by yourself.”

Whistler muttered a curse. “Where’d you come from?”

“Been around.”

“How did you find me?”

“Never lost you, Adam. We got friends who been watching. Nice job, by the way, cracking Poole and Aubrey’s houses, but didn’t it get lonely inside?”

Whistler drew a patient breath. “Do you know where they are?”

Donald rocked a hand. “They can keep for right now. You been back to your apartment in Virginia?”

“Of course not.” said Whistler. “That’s the last place I’d go.”

“That’s good because you would have been dog food by now. What’s the name of the guy we missed out in Denver? Not Briggs. The other one. The big one.”

“Lockwood?”

“Yeah, that guy. Loose cannon. He’s the only one after you. All the others crawled into a hole.”

“Well? What about him? Do you know where he is?”

“There’s him and another guy up on your roof. They been there since the day before yesterday.”

“Alive?”

“Hey, a guy wants to spend three days on a roof, the guy’s a fucking moron; you let him. Anyhow, Dennis is down there with some friends. They’d
have popped him if you had turned up.”

“I keep hearing about friends. Who the hell are these friends?”

“Just friends,” said Donald. “Don’t worry about that. Anyhow, I got a message. Your father says sit. Don’t do nothin’ for a day, maybe two.”

“What for? What’s going on? Did he say?”

“He’s working on a deal. Might be we end this.”

“What kind of a deal. You mean one with Felix Aubrey?”

“Not him. It’s with the preacher guy, Poole.”

“I don’t want any deal. All I want is to find them.”

Donald Beasley spread his hands. “What, you’re doing so great? A couple of days, we try some diplomacy. That don’t work, then it’s war. We go killing.”

Two full days went by before his father finally called him. His father said

that Poole had asked for a truce so that an understanding could be reached. Poole acknowledged that his people had overreacted to what
seemed
the “betrayal of their mission by his son.” They had erred in deciding to punish “those two women” for refusing to be of assistance. He was mortified, he said, to learn that one had been shot. She’d been in his prayers ever since.

Poole offered guarantees, reparations, no reprisals, provided that he, Adam Whistler, would stand down. All criminal charges against Claudia and her mother had been dropped and would never be renewed. Whistler, in return, would leave the country for a year. Poole, during that time, would work to end certain practices that he’d “lately” come to realize were unjust. To that end, of course, he would need a certain ledger. That ledger was the only record, he said, of the errors that needed to be rectified.

“That’s a load of crap,” Whistler said to his father. “All he’ll do bury it deeper.”

“He would if he got it. He won’t. He’ll get a copy.”

“Then what’s the point? Why would he make this deal?”

“To cut his losses. He’s running scared, Adam. He’ll sweeten it further, believe me. I’m asking you to accept it because I want you alive. And I want you to go back for that girl.”

“I can’t do that.”

“From what her mother says, you weren’t given a choice. Where you go, the girl goes, apparently.”

“Do you know that she thinks she’s my guardian angel?”

“Of course. Her mother told me. Gave me hell, by the way. Kate says that you told her they’d be safe now. That right?”

“I…said that I don’t think they’ll bother her again.”

“Wishful thinking, Adam. They’re a long way from safe. If we let this thing escalate any further, either Kate or her daughter are going to be snatched. You thought what, that they’d only try for you?”

Whistler grunted.

“This way you get Claudia out of their reach and I’ll see that her mother is protected. And a year, just you and Claudia, doesn’t sound like bad duty. I’d go for it, Adam. I’d give it a shot.”

“Wait a minute. This year thing. Whose idea was that?”

“I told you. It was part of Poole’s offer.”

“So, it’s nothing like the time you got that prosecutor to tell me I either go to jail or join the army?”

The line went silent. Whistler said to his father, “I guess that answers my question.”

When his father spoke again, his voice had an edge. “Then you needed the army. Now you need this. I’m not trying to run your life for you, Adam. What you’re getting is some time to sit back and examine it.”

“
I’m not trying to run your life for you, Adam
.” No, of course not. What would make him think that?

“Look, Dad…”

“Do it, Adam. You’re not thinking straight. And you’re too damned ready to kill.”

Whistler couldn’t disagree. At least not in this case.