Fifth Ave 02 - Running of the Bulls (35 page)

He checked his watch.
 
Forty minutes had passed and still she wasn't here, and yet she said she was only three blocks away.
 
He couldn't wait for her.
 
He'd already been here too long.
 
He turned off the lights, slipped through the small door that was in Schwartz's closet and stood in his bedroom.

And when he did, he was forced to rear back.
 

Facing him were two people--a man and a woman.
 

Marty went for his gun but the woman moved forward with such speed, he couldn't get to it in time.
 
She wrenched his arm behind his back and the man came forward.
 
He removed the gun from Marty's holster, patted him down and nodded once at the woman, who released Marty and said, "We will kill you if you move."

She had an accent.
 
Spanish?
 
He looked at the man.
 
Italian?
 
"Who are you?"

The man cocked his head.
 
"Mr. Spellman, we're the end of your life."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

8:37 p.m.

For Spocatti, Spellman was just the beginning of a long night.
 

He appraised the man standing in front of him and could sense him trying to calculate a way out of the situation.
 
Spellman was solid and well-built, and Spocatti sensed he probably was quick on his feet.
 
But right now, without his gun, he was powerless.
 
"Sit over there."

"Which chair?"

"The chintz," Spocatti said.
 
"You couldn’t pull off the Stickley."

He watched Spellman cross to the chair and sit down.
 

"Before I kill you, you're going to answer some questions."

"Before you kill me, I’m answering nothing."

"Not quite."
 
He looked at Carmen, who was standing beside him, her hands on her hips.
 
"Make the call."

She withdrew her cell and Spocatti watched Spellman lean forward as she dialed.
 
She put the phone on speaker and they listened to the ring.
 
And then Spellman's daughter, Katie, answered the phone.

"Hello?"

Spocatti drew his gun, pointed it at Spellman's head and put a finger to his lips.
 
"Is this Katie?"

"Who's this?"

"A friend of your father's."

"Which friend?"

"It's Mark," he said.
 
"We met a year or so ago at your sister's birthday party.
 
I was wondering if I could speak to your mother?"

"She's out."

"Oh," he said.
 
"Do you know how long she’ll be?"

"She's with the creep," Katie said.
 
"We were told ten.
 
I'm betting midnight."

"That's several hours away," he said, disappointed.
 
"And my wife and I are about to leave the city.
 
Here's what's up.
 
Your father is on a case and he wanted me to get you something quickly.
 
He said it was important.
 
If we stop by on our way to the airport, would you mind ringing my wife up so she can give it to you?"

She hesitated.
 
"I'm not allowed to do that."

"Can you call your mother and ask?"

"My mother only wants to be reached if it's an emergency."

Spocatti was unfazed.
 
"I see," he said.
 
"Well, this isn't one."

"Then I can't help you."

He locked eyes with Spellman.
 
"Look," he said.
 
"I'm supposed to keep quiet about this, but time is running out and we need to catch our flight.
 
Can you keep a secret?"

"I guess."

"Our dog had puppies a few weeks ago and your dad bought one for you and your sister.
 
He wanted to bring it by tonight, but he got hung up and so he asked us to do it instead.
 
He knows we're leaving town for a few weeks and he didn't want you to wait."

"Dad bought us a puppy?"
 
The thrill in her voice was unmistakable.

"He did."

"What kind?"

"I can't give away everything," he said with a laugh.
 
"Do you mind if we drop by?
 
You can see what it is then.
 
I'll be in the car, but Michelle, my wife, will run the dog up to you."

The moment Katie agreed, Carmen snapped the cell phone shut.
 
Spocatti ignored the tension on Spellman's face and looked at Carmen.
 
"You know the address.
 
Go there and wait.
 
I'll call you if he doesn't cooperate."

"I'll cooperate."

They turned to Spellman.

"What do you want from me?"

"It's simple," Spocatti said.
 
"We need Maggie Cain.
 
We know she hired you.
 
We know there's an investigation.
 
Tell us where she is."

"I wish I knew."

"Bad answer."

"It's the only answer I've got.
 
I don't know where she is."

"Then call her and tell her to meet you here.
 
Tell her what happened to Peter and that you need her here immediately.
 
Tell her it's critical."

"Do you want to reach for my cell or do you want me to do it?"

Carmen walked over to him as he stood.
 
She dipped her hand into his pants pocket and pulled out the phone, but not before copping a feel.
 
She looked at Spocatti.
 
"I know where to shoot him first.
 
You can't miss it."
 

"Just hand him the phone, Carmen."

She did.
 

"Is she at home or is she out?"

"I don't know."

"Call her at home first," Spocatti said.
 
"Put the phone on speaker.
 
If she answers, do what I told you to do."

They watched him dial.
 
Outside, on the street, there was the faint sound of an ambulance.

The phone rang.
 
Standing there, in the darkness, they listened to it while the ambulance’s lights started to illuminate the street.
 
It was a ways off, but its siren was growing louder.
 
Spocatti nodded at Carmen, who went to the windows across the room and looked out.
 
She craned her head into an awkward position and said, "I can't see it."

Maggie’s phone picked up.
 
It was the answering machine.
 
Her voice was barely audible above the ambulance's alarm.
 
"This is Maggie.
 
Please leave a message."

Spocatti reached over and snapped the phone shut.
 
"Dial her cell."

He looked over at Carmen and saw the ambulance's sweeping red lights start to whip across her face.
 
"What's going on, Carmen?"

"I can see the lights, but I can't see the ambulance."

"Tell me when you can."

"It's the city, Vincent.
 
Relax.
 
People die."

"You don't say?"

The ambulance's wail grew to a roar.

"I can see it now," she said.

Spellman held out the phone as it started to ring.

"It's not stopping here.
 
It's going too fast.
 
It's going to turn onto Fifth."

And in that moment, just as the ambulance raced past the windows with its sirens screaming, Carmen Gragera crumbled in front of them and dropped to the ground.

*
 
*
 
*

For Marty, the next few moments came in waves.

From the doorway next to the windows, Maggie Cain rolled into the room, kicked the woman's gun across the floor, lifted her own gun and started firing at the man named Vincent, but not before he dropkicked Marty and sent him flying over a chair.
 
Marty went down with it, his cell slipped beneath him and he landed on top of it.
 

He was on his back.
 

He looked up to the sounds of muted gunfire and watched strobes of light reverberate off the walls.
 
Maggie Cain was coming across the room, her gun poised in front of her, the determination on her face captured each time she fired.
 

With surprise on her side, she was shooting repeatedly at the man, but missing.
 
He was taking his own shots at her, but missing.
 
The room was too large and too dark to allow for accuracy, but with the chance for death so ripe, the space nevertheless was bright with fight.

Marty reached beneath him for the phone, tried to dial 911, couldn't.
 
He broke it when he fell.

There was another shot and this time the man reared back, the gun in his right hand now covering a wound on his left arm.
 

Maggie closed in.
 
She fired again and this time a portion of the wall behind him exploded into bits of plaster.
 
As a wavering white veil drifted up to consume him, the man stood at the center of it, his head turning to the door to his right.

Behind them came a groan.

The woman named Carmen was attempting to stand in front of the windows, but her balance was off.
 
In the city light, Marty could see blood on her head, confusion in her eyes.
 
She was clutching her side.
 
Instinct lifted her up.
 

As she struggled to her feet, the man rushed out of the room, his hand over his arm, Maggie Cain racing after him, still shooting even as he ran down the hallway, took to the stairs and fled from the building.
 

Marty was about to run over to Carmen and tackle her for questioning when Maggie Cain rushed back into the room.
 

"Leave her," she said.
 
"This place is about to be filled with cops and I can't be associated with any of it.
 
I need you to move, Marty--now!"