Whistler's Angel (43 page)

“No bomb. Bomb’s are quick. He’s not going to die quick.”

“Ah, yes,” recalled Aubrey, “you want him to suffer. And, oh, you would like to rape the girl in his presence, then slowly peel her face from her skull. Was that just the girl? Or the mother as well? Forgive me, I had taken careful notes of your fantasies, but I don’t seem to have them at hand.”

“…Hey, screw you, Mr. Aubrey.”

“Are you hearing me, you cretin?” Aubrey’s voice became a hiss. “I’ve given you a task. Go and do it. Only that. Don’t go anywhere near Whistler. Don’t depart from my instructions in any particular without calling to check with me first. Am I clear?”

“We’ll go get this Crow guy. After that, we’re gonna talk.”

“I do so enjoy our exchanges, Mr. Lockwood. I’ll be counting the hours. Goodbye.”

TWENTY FOUR

Whistler was still grumbling as they got into their car and drove out of the Palmetto Bay Marina. He made a right turn toward the new Cross Island toll bridge. It was the shortest route to the hospital.

Claudia was pleased that he’d consented to take her. Consented, however, was not quite the word. If he hadn’t, she’d have gone to see the Raglands on her own. He had lost that argument with her.

She’d said, “Adam, this is something that I have to do. I think I’m supposed to. Come with me.”

He then tried to dissuade her by making a show of taking two weapons from the locker. They would not, he told her, go anywhere unarmed as long as
Crow was at large. He had shoved his Beretta into his belt and he took the MAC-10 plus an extra clip. He placed the sub-machine pistol in a large canvas tote and covered it with a sail bag. He took both kevlar vests and put one on himself, under a baggy gray sweatshirt. He insisted that she wear the other. He told her that he wanted her to keep the vest on until they set sail for Bermuda. He said he didn’t care how hot she got. He said he didn’t care if the vest made her look fat. That was the price she was going to pay for…

“Adam,” she asked quietly, “what are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to get it through your head that it’s dangerous out there.”

“Am I supposed to say, ‘I guess you’re right, it’s not worth it?”

In fact, that’s exactly what he’d hoped.

She’d said, “Tell you what…let’s not do this halfway. Let’s take the decksweeper with us.”

“Listen, Claudia…

The gun locker was still open. She reached in and got it. She squeezed it into the canvas tote. She said, “There. We’re covered. At short range, at least.
But what if this Crow plunks away from a distance? Then we’ll want your big rifle. You know, the
humane
one? Let’s go. I’ll carry it out to the car.”

She was up through the hatch with the M-87 before he was able to stop her. He said, “Claudia, get back here. Don’t wave that around.”

“Your trunk open?”

“No, it’s locked. Bring that back.”

“Adam, are you coming or must I go alone?”

By that time she was striding up the dock toward the ramp with the sniper gun under her arm. She passed some sailors who were hauling a boat, too busy to notice, thank God. He had no time to lock up the boat, but he threw a coil of
line across the hatchway. He snatched up the tote and he followed. They got to the car. It was close by, thanks again. He opened the trunk; he’d lied about it being locked, and threw all of the weaponry into it.

Claudia climbed into the passenger seat and waited for him to join her. When he did, she poked his leg. She asked, “Are you
angry
?”

He answered, “I’m not speaking to you.”

“Yes, you are. You’re going to remind me that I’m nuts.”

“Nuts is what you are in general. This, specifically, is willful. I am very upset with you, Claudia.”

“If I hadn’t grabbed those weapons, you’d still be back there stalling. I have to go, but not without you.”

“To willful, add scheming. And manipulative.”

“Start the car. I promise to be good from now on.”

“Will you do as I say?”

“I’ll try to do as you ask. What is it that you’d like me to do?”

That still sounded willful, but it opened the door. She agreed that his wishes should not be ignored, especially regarding their mutual well-being. He outlined…suggested…the rules of engagement. Having agreed that it did make sense to go armed, she agreed that if the hospital had metal detectors, they would abort the Ragland visit. If they got to Ragland’s floor and there were people in his room, they would also abort and return.

“And if you see a camera of any description?”

She nodded. “We’re out of there fast.”

“And if Ragland is alone? Or just Ragland and his wife?”

“I go in by myself. You don’t want to; that’s okay, and I only stop in for two minutes.”

Fat chance that he’ll be alone, thought Whistler. They’ll leave and maybe she’ll come to her senses before any damage is done.

“
And if he’s alone, or only him and his wife?”

“
I don’t know. I just see what sort of feelings I get.”

“N
o, you know what I mean. What are you going to say?”

“
We tried not to get involved because you’re a married man. I’m not supposed to be with you. I’m a silly little bimbo, but I did want to help. I learned first aid and CPR at beautician school in Toledo. They made me take first aid because I wasn’t good with scissors and I kept nipping off parts of ears.”

“Claudia…”

“As for you, you’re a lawyer with three kids at home and a wife who has all the money. She doesn’t know that you’ve been screwing her beautician. If she finds out, she’ll dump you and she’ll take all your toys, including the boat, which she owns, not you. You’ll deserve it because you’re a scum-sucking rat, and, oh, by the way, I think I’m pregnant.”

“Um…Claudia…”

“If I have to be a bimbo, Adam, you can be a rat.”

This was not, of course, what they had discussed. She was simply to look

in, say hello, how are you feeling? Sergeant Moore said you wanted to thank me. The best way to thank me is to say no more about it. We’re very private people and we hope you’ll understand that we’d rather not be bothered by reporters. If the thrown knife comes up, she has no idea how anyone could think that she could do that. This would be a true statement. Well, sort of. If she’s asked about the bullet she’s supposed to have moved, that one’s easy, just explain what really happened.

“I’m teasing you, Adam,” she said. “I’ll be good.”

“Just remember. Two minutes. I’ll be waiting down the hall.”

Kaplan was almost sure that it was Whistler who passed them going northbound on the Cross Island Parkway. A beige Ford Taurus, man driving, woman with him, heading in the opposite direction.

“You’re sure?” Lockwood asked.

“It looked like them, yeah. But, we’re coming to the bridge. Let’s see if their boat is still out there.” The arching bridge afforded a view of Palmetto Bay and the Sound. Kaplan glanced toward the place where Whistler’s boat had been anchored.

“Boat’s gone. No, there it is. It’s tied up at the fuel dock.”

Lockwood said, “I know. I saw from the plane. You got any idea where they’re going?”

“Who knows?”

“The airport, I bet. The mother’s coming in, right? Let’s go down there and check out the boat.”

“Didn’t Aubrey say don’t go anywhere near?”

“That’s near Whistler. He’s not there. We just go look around.”

“What, we go climb on board? What if that wasn’t them? He sees you, he blows off the top of your head. How about we do what Aubrey says for a change?”

“Screw Aubrey.”

Kaplan raised a hand. He said, “Vern…we’re not stopping. If you do this, you are strictly on your own.”

“You’ll see who does the blowing. It’s not going to be Whistler.”

“Good. You can practice on the Crow guy.”

“Why would Aubrey want to give Whistler a pass? What are these ‘other

plans’ he says he has?”

“Ask him later. Right now, let’s take care of the wacko.”

From the bridge, they stayed on Palmetto Bay Road. Two miles further,
they approached Sea Pines Circle. “We go straight here,” said Kaplan, “but just off to the right is where the shoot-em-up was.”

“Where? One of those buildings?”

“That bar on the end. Jump & Phil’s.”

Lockwood said, “Swing in there. Let’s take a look.”

“For what? It’s boarded up.”

“It’s good I get the lay of the land here.”

With a shrug, Kaplan turned to the right off the circle and proceeded
for another hundred yards. He said, “On the left. See? Windows covered with plywood. Oh, wait. It looks like they’re open.”

There were outside tables on a tree-shaded terrace that was off to one side of the restaurant. There was an outdoor bar and a built-in TV for customers who wanted to watch sports events. A waitress was setting the tables for lunch and another was stocking the bar. The one at the bar was…oh, yeah…that girl, Leslie. The two owners were sweeping up the last of the glass.

“See the blond one?” Kaplan pointed. “That’s the one who you tried to tell Aubrey was probably the one who carved him up. She look like a killer to you?”

“So, who does?”

“You for one. It’s like you’re wearing a sign. You also can’t get two whole sentences out without talking about killing someone.”

“Whistler’s girl friend…she look like a killer to you?”

“Good point,” said Kaplan. “Her, I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Let’s get closer to this one. I can’t see her face.”

“Vern, she can’t see yours either. You should keep it that way.”

“You said she was on the boat with Whistler and those others? Then she knows what that meeting was about.”