San Francisco Night (30 page)

At just before nine, Nightingale phoned Dragan. “I need a gun,” he said. “Can I borrow yours?”

“That’s not going to happen,” said Dragan. “Mine is registered and all its details are on file. You shoot anyone with my weapon and I’m in a shitload of trouble.”

“Can you get me a weapon?”

“I suppose so. But at short notice your options might be limited.”

“Something concealable that goes bang will do me, Dragan.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

“Quickly, yeah?”

“I hear you.”

The line went dead and Nightingale pocketed his phone. “Did I just hear you right?” asked Chen. “He’s getting you a gun?”

“I figured you wouldn’t have one to lend me,” said Nightingale.

“I can’t have you wandering around San Francisco with a gun,” she said. “You’re a civilian.” He started to speak but she silenced him with a wave of her hand. “I get that you were a cop once, and I get that you were a Special Firearms Whatever.”

“Specialist,” he said. “Specialist Firearms Officer.”

“But that was then and this is now,” she said. “You’ve got no jurisdiction here.”

“Amy, what choice do we have? We have to get into that house to save the kids. You’re right, we won’t get a warrant. And frankly, even if we did, it probably won’t do any good.”

“What do you mean?”

Nightingale gestured at Wolfe, who was sitting meekly, her eyes half closed. “What Wainwright did to her, it’s one of the powers that the Adepts have. They can exert control over people. Wainwright is an expert at it, obviously. And I’m guessing this Abaddon is, too. If a search team goes in, there’s every chance the Apostles would use their powers to make them miss stuff.  They could spend a week ripping the place apart and still not find those kids.”

“So you’re planning to shoot them, is that it?”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” said Nightingale. “We get inside, and we find the kids. I’m assuming that once we find the kids, you can call the cops.”

“And how do I explain the fact that I’m in there?”

“Fine. I’ll call the cops. I do it anonymously and then dump the Sim card. I stay around long enough for the cops to arrive and then I disappear.”

“Like the Phantom of the Opera? You really haven’t thought this through, have you?”

“Do you have a better idea? Or any idea at all?”

“How about we wait outside The Elms? We see who goes in. Once Speckman and Carr are there, we call the cops. Anonymously.”

“And say what?”

“That the kids are inside.”

“But the cops have to get through the gate. That’ll give the Apostles all the time they need to hide the kids. Or rush through the ritual. We don’t know how long that takes. They could go ahead while the cops are still knocking on the door. They could kill the kids and spirit the bodies away.”

Chen frowned. “Okay, suppose we do it your way. We get in there, we find the kids, we call it in. How do I explain the fact that I’m there?”

“You’re a cop. You’ve got your badge and your gun. It’s a missing persons case, sort of. There’ll be so many cops around you’ll just blend in. You can say you heard the call and you were in the area.” He could see that she wasn’t convinced. “Amy, if the kids are there, the cops are going to be so busy congratulating themselves they’re not going to be worrying who’s there or why.”

“I can see this blowing up in our faces,” she said.

Nightingale forced a smile. “Amy, if you want out, that’s fine. I can go in on my own. You can stay here. Watch Speckman and Carr on the iPad.”

“You’re serious?”

“I’ll get inside with her. Once I’ve found the kids I’ll call you. You call it in.”

“And how do I explain the fact that I’m suddenly psychic?”

“You could say that I’m an informant, that I was feeding you intel on the Apostles. The cellphone records will show that I called you, I doubt they’ll ask you too many questions assuming we get the kids back.”

“I’m coming with you, Jack,” she said. “I’m going to see this through to the end.”

Dragan phoned Nightingale back within the hour. “You’re in luck. Friend of a friend owes me a favor and he came through.”

“We’re on our way out,” said Nightingale. “We’ll meet you in front of the building.” They took Wolfe down the stairs to the ground floor. Chen left the apartment building first. Claudia Wolfe followed and Nightingale brought up the rear. Chen was wearing a black jacket over black and white striped dress and had her gun in an underarm holster. Wolfe was wearing her coat and kept her head down as she walked. They fell into step on the sidewalk, with Wolfe in the middle.

“Where is your car, Claudia?” asked Nightingale.

“Down there, aways,” she said, her voice a dull monotone.

“Do you think she’ll be okay to drive?” Chen asked Nightingale.

It was a good point, Nightingale realized.  Wolfe was quiet and obedient, but her reactions did seem to be dulled. “Maybe you could take the wheel until we’re close to the house?” he suggested. He gave her the keys.

The Lexus was parked in front of a delicatessen that had shut for the night. Chen opened the doors and climbed into the driver’s seat. Nightingale helped Wolfe into the front passenger seat and leaned over to fasten her seat belt. Wolfe sat meekly with her hands in her lap.

Dragan was parked on the other side of the road in a black SUV. “Give me a minute,” said Nightingale. He went over to Dragan’s car. The window wound down and Dragan passed him a gun that was so small it looked like a toy, especially in Dragan’s massive gloved hand. “It’s a Beretta Storm,” said Dragan.

“A subcompact, nice,” said Nightingale. He ejected the clip and examined the rounds. “Nine mill. Any extra rounds?”

“Just what you have there,” said Dragan.

The gun was a little over six inches long and weighted about twenty-six ounces. Nightingale doubted that it would be accurate beyond twelve feet or so but it was easy to carry and would do the job. “Thanks,” said Nightingale, applying the safety and slipping the weapon into his coat pocket.

“It’s been on the streets for a year or so and the guy who gave it to me doesn’t know if or when or how it was used,” said Dragan. “For all we know that gun could have killed half a dozen people anywhere in the country. You need to know that, Jack. You get caught with that, there’s no saying what’ll happen.”

“I didn’t get it from you,” said Nightingale.

“Damn right. Just be aware, it could mean a whole shit-load of trouble for you.”

“Have you spoken to Wainwright?”

“He pays my wages.”

“No problem. But he was okay?”

“He said to give you whatever you want.”

“You haven’t asked me what’s going on.”

Dragan shrugged. “Like I said, he pays my wages.”

“You really are the strong silent type.”

Dragan smiled despite himself. “I do my best.”

“How much has Wainwright told you?”

“Just that I’m to protect you and offer you any support you need.”

Nightingale looked across at the Lexus, where Chen was watching him anxiously. “You know The Elms, the mansion I’ve been to?”

Dragan nodded. “Sure. Those kids own it, the singers.”

“You a fan, Dragan?”

“My kids are.”

“That woman over there, the one that was about to cut off Amy’s finger when you burst in, she’s our key to getting inside. They’re going to kill a couple of kids tonight. Inspector Chen and I plan to stop them.”

“Well good luck with that.”

“I’m serious, Dragan.”

“So am I.”

“How much help can you give me?”

“How much do you need?”

That was a good question, Nightingale realized, and one that he hadn’t really thought through. Wainwright had made it clear that Dragan wasn’t aware of the Satanic aspect of what was going on, which made asking for help difficult. “I could do with you watching my back.”

“You need me to go inside with you?”

“I don’t think that’s an option. But if you could stay by the phone, I’d appreciate it. There’s a chance you might be able to get up the cliff face, get in the back way.”

“It’d be a hell of a climb,’ said Dragan.

“There’s a path. Steep, but it’s there.”

“You’ve had a look?”

Nightingale nodded. “From the beach. But I’ve no idea what’s at the top. For all I know there could be a fence or guards or both. And probably CCTV, they’ve got cameras everywhere.” He shrugged. “To be honest, the more I think about it, the more unlikely it is. I can’t see them leaving a back way in, not with all the security at the front.”

“Stranger things have happened,” said Dragan. “I’ll send a guy to check. These kids. That’d be Brett Michaels and Sharonda Parker?”

Nightingale nodded. “Yeah.”

“And you can’t just call the cops?’ He gestured over at Chen. “They’d take her seriously. Her being a detective and all.”

“It’s complicated,” said Nightingale.   

Chen drove the Lexus to The Elms but stopped about half a mile away. She got out and helped Wolfe around the car and into the driving seat. “You need to get into the back with me,” said Nightingale. “We need to be hidden when we get to the gate.”

“Jack, this could all go badly wrong,” she said. “She could crash the car, anything could happen.”

“We’ve no choice, Amy. If they see anyone else in the car they won’t let us in.”

Chen climbed into the back with him and pulled the door closed. “Jack, this isn’t going to work. The guards in the guardhouse will see us. We’ll have to drive right past them.”

“We can get a blanket or something to cover ourselves.”

“That won’t work.”

Mrs. Wolfe sat patiently in the driver’s seat, her tiny hands on the steering wheel.

“We’re going to have to get into the trunk,” said Nightingale eventually.

“Excuse me?”

“They won’t search the car. But they will look in through the windows, you’re right. So we get into the trunk and she drives us in that way.”

“She’s a killer, Jack. And you want to have her lock us in the trunk?”

“We can keep it open. We can hold it down. And at the end of the day, we’ve got guns and she hasn’t.” He could see from the look on her face that she wasn’t convinced. “It’ll be a couple of minutes at most. And you can see the state she’s in, she’s done everything we’ve asked her from the moment Wainwright spoke to her.”

“I think you’re mad.”

“It’s the only way to get inside, Amy. And if we don’t get inside, those kids will die.”

Nightingale felt the Lexus turn to the left. “Here we go,” he whispered to Chen. They were lying curled up in the trunk. Nightingale had his hand on the catch, keeping the trunk door closed but not locked. Chen’s head was at the other side of the trunk, facing the rear with her hand close to the butt of her gun. Nightingale hated confined spaces and he focused on breathing slowly and evenly. He had spoken to Wolfe for more than a minute before he was satisfied that she knew exactly what to do: drive through the gates, past the guardhouse, find somewhere to park where they couldn’t be seen, and switch off the engine. She seemed to understand.

“I’m hating this,” whispered Chen.

“You and me both,” said Nightingale.

The car slowed and stopped and they heard a grating sound as the main gates opened. The car moved ahead again but then stopped abruptly. The car shuddered and the trunk clicked shut. Nightingale cursed under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” whispered Chen.

“Nothing.”

“Did the trunk just lock?”

“It’ll be okay,” whispered Nightingale.

“How will it be okay?” whispered Chen. “We’re locked in.”

They heard muffled voices and the car began to move again. Nightingale’s heart was pounding. Chen was right; they were trapped.

The car drove for almost thirty seconds, then turned to the left, then shortly afterward turned to the right. Then they stopped. “It’s okay, she’s doing exactly what we told her to do,” said Nightingale. The engine cut out.

“Now what?” whispered Chen.

“Now she’ll just sit there,” said Nightingale. “Claudia can you hear me?” His voice echoed around the confines of the trunk. They strained to listen but didn’t hear a response.

“I suppose you could shoot out the lock,” said Nightingale.

“Oh, I can see that working,” said Chen.

“I was joking,” said Nightingale. “Trying to lighten the moment.”

“I’d be happier if you’d try shouting louder,” said Chen. “Because at the moment she’s our only way out of here.”