"The Amateurs" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sakey Marcus)

CHAPTER 5

IT WAS AMAZING, Bennett thought, how much of the world looked really boring. The office park where K amp;S Laboratories was located, for example. A series of two-story shoeboxes centered around what had to be the lamest fountain he’d ever seen, water rolling in a piss trickle down an angled slab. How people got up every day and commuted an hour in traffic just to work in a place like this, he’d never understand.

Of course, on the inside, the lab probably looked more exciting. According to the research he’d done, about twenty percent of pharmaceuticals used some form of fluorine, which acted as a stabilizer, improving efficiency by delaying absorption. It was pretty nasty stuff; as a subcontractor developing compounds for drug companies, K amp;S probably had clean rooms, positive airflow suits, three kinds of safety precautions. Maybe on the inside it looked like something out of a Bruckheimer flick.

Bennett still liked his office better. With one hand on the wheel of the Benz, he dialed his cell. “Doc. You know who this is?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good. You do what I asked?”

“I… I…”

“Easy. Take a breath.” He waited for a beat, then said, “Better?”

The man’s voice came through hollow and miserable. “I made what you wanted.”

“Good. I knew you were a smart guy. Now, you haven’t told anyone about our chat, have you?”

“No.”

“Your wife, the police?”

“No.”

“You’re not lying to me? Because those pictures”-he sucked air through his teeth-“I mean, that kind of thing, you wouldn’t want anyone to see that.”

“I haven’t. I swear.” The voice was quick and panicky.

“Then relax, brother. This will all be over soon. Here’s how it’s going to go.” Bennett gave him an address. “Let’s see you there in twenty minutes.” He hung up before the guy could respond, then slouched in his seat and watched the front door.

Two minutes later, the doctor hurried out, one hand pulling keys from his pocket. The other held a duffel bag in fingers clenched bloodless. Bennett let the doc get in his Town Car and spin out of the lot. Didn’t follow, just waited and watched. No squad cars followed, no unmarkeds roared to life.

When the clock on his dashboard said that ten minutes had passed, he dialed the phone again. “Where you at, Doc?”

“I’m on the way. You said-”

“Changed my mind. Why don’t we meet at your office in”-he pretended he was looking at a watch-“five.”

“But I’m ten minutes-”

“Drive fast.” Bennett hung up.

It took more like seven, but when the Town Car hit the lot, the tires were squealing and the engine was roaring. Again, no sign of anybody following.

Bennett let the doctor park, then slid out of his car and started over. He had that hyperalertness that always came with a deal, the feeling he could see in seven directions at once, breathe jet fuel instead of air. He knocked on the passenger-side window and enjoyed seeing the man jump.

After the guy collected himself enough to unlock the door, Bennett slid in. “Hey, Doc. How was your day?”

The man just looked at him. His nose had gauze packed in the nostrils and tape across the bridge. His fingers gripped and released the steering wheel.

“Rough one, huh?” Bennett smiled. “We’re almost done.”

The man nodded, started to reach for the bag.

“Not so fast. Let’s get out of here.”

“Where?”

“Take a ride. First, though, do me a quick favor.” Bennett jerked his head. “Hike up that shirt, would you?”

“My shirt?”

“Yeah. I hear swimming is good exercise. Want to check out your muscle definition.”

“Listen, I did what you wanted, but this is getting ridiculous.” The man trying to take control back.

Bennett smiled, shrugged. “OK. Well, nice seeing you.” He reached for the door handle.

“No! Wait.” The man grimaced, then untucked his shirt and pulled it up to show his bare skin. “I told you, I didn’t go to the police.”

“Can’t be too careful.” Bennett gestured at the road. “Let’s go.”

It was after seven o’clock, and traffic was just beginning to thin. Bennett directed the doctor one street at a time, having him get on and off the highway, make sudden turns. He watched the mirrors. No one.

God, he loved predictable people.

“OK. You know how to get to O’Hare from here?” Bennett leaned forward, turned on the radio. Scanned the dial-crap, crap, car commercial, crap, the Beatles. He put a foot on the dash, lowered his window, and reclined the seat a notch.

As they neared the airport, the doctor said, “About those pictures. I never did anything like that before. It was… I don’t even know why I did. I was just… curious. Wasn’t thinking. I swear to God, though, I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m begging you.”

“You do what I wanted?”

“Yes.”

“And didn’t fool around? Try to make something a little different, figure I won’t be able to tell?”

“No, I swear.”

“Long-term parking.”

“Huh?”

“Head for long-term parking.”

The man nodded. “I love my wife. My daughter. More than anything.”

Bennett cocked an eyebrow.

“I know. I know. It was stupid. I just. It’s a weakness. A compulsion. It’s not my fault, something I would choose.”

“Go up to the top level.”

“If I have to pay for what I did, that’s fine. I just don’t want anyone to know.”

“Park over there, in the empty part.”

The doctor pulled in, killed the engine. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

“I believe you, Doc. And if you did what I wanted, everything will be fine. You’ve got my word. So”-Bennett jerked his thumb toward the backseat-“I’m going to ask one last time. Did you get clever with me? Admit it now, I’ll give you an opportunity to make good. But if it turns out that you messed with me…”

The man was shell-shocked, eyes red and nose swollen. “I made what you asked for.”

“Then your worries are over.”

Even with one window down, the shot was deafening in the closed confines of the car. The bullet took him right in the temple, passed straight through, and shattered the driver’s-side glass, spattering the car door with gore. Bennett didn’t waste time looking around, just wiped the gun off, wrapped the man’s dead hand around it, then dropped both to the seat. The gun bounced and slid to the floorboards. Bennett set three photos in the doctor’s lap, then wiped off the radio dial, took the duffel from the back, and started for the terminal. Kept an easy pace, just a businessman on his way to a flight. He opened his cell phone, dialed.

“Yello?”

“Crooch. It’s me. We’re on. Be ready Tuesday night.”

“Yeah, listen, about this. I don’t know, man. I’m having second thoughts.”

“What’s not to know? It’s simple.”

“If it’s so simple, why don’t you do it?”

“Ahh, Croochy, you’re looking at it the wrong way.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re missing the opportunity. This is a painless way for you to settle up with me. Just run an errand, drop off one bag, pick up another. That’s it. And in return, think of the weight off your shoulders. Do right Tuesday night, come Wednesday morning, your worries are over.”

“And we’ll be square? Clean?”

“Absolutely, brother.” Bennett smiled. “You got my word.”