Beyond The Pale Part 12

i found the hall closet and retrieved my black embroidered coat. I felt glad for the first time that evening. I loved this coat, and I had written it off as lost for good when Benny and I took off out the window. Then I returned to the exercise room and got my handbag. I checked on Gunther. Poor little guy was curled up sound asleep. I don't know how much he understood of what had happened to Schneibel, but animals have a greater intellect than humans believe. Gunther knew about fear, pain, suffering, and death. He knew love. He also knew loss, and I had no doubt he was grieving. In the animal kingdom violent death is commonplace. Gunther didn't judge, but he did feel.

Taking the time to fix my makeup, straighten my clothes, and adjust my att.i.tude, I left the apartment by the front door. I was extremely careful not to walk through any blood as I left. I wasn't going to leave evidence behind or ruin my Jimmy Choos. I wasn't worried about fingerprints, as I had been there legitimately that evening. I was concerned that it was after five A.M. I needed to get home before dawn.

I exited the elevator into the small street-level lobby, taking care not to rush. A different doorman was on duty, a young Spanish fellow, who had his feet up on a desk while he watched a Spanish station on a portable TV and sipped on a bottle of Snapple. I asked him to hail me a cab. He gave me a wide smile and a knowing look. "Oh, that Issa," he said, "he know how to pick 'em." Let him think what he wanted. I didn't need the police to come looking for me, though. I'd better report to J and see if he could handle the damage control.

As soon as I was in the cab, I dialed the office. J answered.

"Ringmaster here. Where are you, Hermes?"

Unexpectedly I felt really happy to hear J's voice. I had been so confused about whom to believe and whom to trust. Now I felt as if he offered a safe harbor. I began to think I could count on him. I hoped I was right. "In a cab," I said.

"Don't say anything," he said. "Report to the office as early as you can this evening."

"Roger," I said, "but listen. This can't wait. We have a maintenance and repair job to do at Bonaventure's. Structural damage. You need to get a cleanup crew in there, fast. Use the service entrance. Got it?"

"Got it. How many pieces were broken?" he asked with as little emotion as if windows, not people, lay broken there.

"Two," I answered, and my voice broke as I said it.

"Right. It's taken care of," he said, and again his voice rea.s.sured me. "Now get some sleep, Hermes," he told me.

Before he could hang up, I blurted out, "Oh, one more thing. What about Jersey City?"

"Done," J said cryptically, then added, "I'll debrief you tonight."

"Okay," I answered, unable to think of a way to ask him who was still alive when he got there.

"Hermes," he said, his gruff voice breaking into my thoughts.

"What?"

"Watch your back." And he clicked off.

I stumbled through my apartment door, wilting from fatigue. I peeled off my clothes, leaving them in a trail across the floor. I went into the kitchen and poured water into a bowl for Gunther. I took him out of my purse and set him on the counter. His little red eyes blinked in the light. I searched for something to feed him and came up with McVities Digestive Biscuits. I get them sent over from England once a month. I offered him a piece of the cookie. He took it in his tiny rat fingers with care and nibbled on it like a society matron.

While Gunther finished his meal and took a drink from his bowl, I downed a small bottle of Pellegrino. The fizz made me burp. Real ladylike, Daphy Real ladylike, Daphy, I thought. I opened the refrigerator and scanned the contents. I had some raw chopped sirloin in the meat drawer. That would have to tide me over. I was too tired for a meal. I downed a patty, then scooped Gunther up. As the first rays of dawn stained the sky pink, I grabbed yesterday's New York Times New York Times in one hand and my new pet rat in the other, and I headed for my coffin. I told Gunther to use the newspaper if he needed to pee; then I climbed into my satin-lined crypt. I had some memory of Gunther curling up by my shoulder before I tumbled down into a dreamworld where my ghost self took wing and sailed toward a lemon moon. in one hand and my new pet rat in the other, and I headed for my coffin. I told Gunther to use the newspaper if he needed to pee; then I climbed into my satin-lined crypt. I had some memory of Gunther curling up by my shoulder before I tumbled down into a dreamworld where my ghost self took wing and sailed toward a lemon moon.

Chapter 11.

Fallen powers do not go hack to the branch.

-Zen saying

In the early winter, snow is the seasonal blossom. I stepped out of my apartment building as streetlights turned on in the deepening dusk. A sudden flurry blew soft flakes against my face, and a stiff wind sent a dusting of white dancing across the avenue. I descended into the subway. I had some anxiety about coming face-to-face with J again. Our meetings invariably exploded into emotional fireworks. Underlying everything was the s.e.xual tension that he denied existed and that I wanted to forget ever had. Unfortunately, denying or ignoring reality doesn't make it go away.

I had dressed down for the meeting in hip-hugging jeans and a pair of Western Frye boots in a funky turquoise with red trim. I still hadn't gotten my ring back from Benny, and made a mental note to ask her about it. I put on a big hunk of Italian gold holding a deep red coral stone from the Amalfi coast. Coral signifies long life and good luck. I had the former. I certainly could use some of the latter. I topped off my outfit with a deep yellow leather jacket that I picked up during my last trip to Florence. Yes, the trip was was in this century. I took a vacation in Italy last October for my birthday. Unfortunately all my old friends there had been dead two hundred years. Time pa.s.ses. People I care about age and die. I remain the same. As I've said, that's my cross to bear. in this century. I took a vacation in Italy last October for my birthday. Unfortunately all my old friends there had been dead two hundred years. Time pa.s.ses. People I care about age and die. I remain the same. As I've said, that's my cross to bear.

Before I left the apartment I made a cage of sorts for Gunther out of an empty aquarium and a piece of window screen. I put an old silk blouse in there for him to curl up on. I added a tiny bowl of water, and some sunflower seeds. After I woke up from my daily slumber, I had gone online and ordered the most elaborate and beautiful rodent house I could find, bedding, and super-deluxe rodent food. Only the best for my little guy. I let him sit on my shoulder while I worked on the computer. But unlike Herr Schneibel, I couldn't carry him around town with me. Having a rat peek his head out of one's purse would probably cause a panic in the subway. Then again, this was New York. Maybe no one would even notice. Either way, I was disinclined to become known as the girl with the white rat. So I said good-bye, told him to be a good boy while I was gone, and left the apartment.

But not before doing one more thing. I took the cas.h.i.+er's check for $50 million out of my pants pocket and left it in my computer desk drawer.

On the subway ride downtown, I reviewed what I found out during my time online during the predawn hours. I did a reverse directory search of the numbers I took from Bonaventure's phone. The foreign exchanges were to someplace in Georgia-the Georgia in southern Russia, not the Peach Tree State. I figured those numbers connected to Bonaventure's home base or office. And I had guessed right about the local numbers. One connected to a limo service, no doubt how Bonaventure made his exit from the city. That fact opened up a can of worms. What did he do, take the limo to Schneibel's loft and ask the driver to wait while he played Lizzie Borden?

Did he meet Sam Bockerie there? Did he get there after General Mosquito had axed Schneibel and step around the blood to pick up his art collection? I decided I'd have to see Bonaventure himself to get the answers. And speaking of seeing Bonaventure, the 570 area code was a direct hit. The reverse directory gave me an address on Tunkhannock Avenue in Exeter, Pennsylvania. Bingo-Bonny's country place.

The call on the caller ID did turn out to be from a car service, probably confirming a regular pickup. I still needed to find out if anyone took that ride after killing Issa and Tanya... carrying $250 million in uncut diamonds. I hoped it was Bockerie. I made up my mind that the person who grabbed that ride just couldn't be Darius.

As I came up the subway stairs next to the Flatiron Building, the light snow covered my cheeks with soft kisses, but the wind was cold enough to make me s.h.i.+ver. As it pressed its icy fingers around my neck, I remembered all too clearly the fingers that had dug cruelly into my flesh the night before.

All the way down here, I tried to get my head together about what things I needed to discuss with J and what things I had to keep to myself. Should I tell him about the phone numbers I copied from Bonaventure's phone? Did he know about Louis? I wasn't about to rat on Benny if he didn't. Was he p.i.s.sed about the dead delivery man? Most likely. Did he think Benny or I had done it? Probably. He seemed to have a pretty low opinion of us, especially me. Could he give me any information on who killed Schneibel? Did he even know Schneibel was dead? Did he know who killed Issa and Tanya? Come to think of it (and I'd rather not think about it), it had been a four-body night. A frigging ma.s.sacre. I hadn't seen that much killing since Easter 1916, and that was an entirely different set of circ.u.mstances. d.a.m.n the Black and Tan. I don't forgive or forget easily, and I don't change my loyalties. Ever.

These thoughts raced through my mind as I took the slow, old-fas.h.i.+oned Flatiron elevator to "my" office, where I hadn't spent so much as one minute since this whole a.s.signment began. When I walked in, J stood in front of the window, much as he had the first time I ever saw him. His posture was ramrod straight, his clothes impeccably clean, his s.h.i.+rt freshly pressed, his pant creases razor sharp, his shoes spit s.h.i.+ned. No one could miss the fact that he was military. My stomach lurched, and every muscle in my body tensed. I had been enraged with this man and hated how he had treated me. We growled at each other like two dogs p.i.s.sing on the same tree. My reaction to him came straight from my solar plexus. Intellect has nothing whatsoever to do with the love or hate between two people, and that's the truth.

"Hermes," he said, and his voice was tired, "have a seat." He didn't sound teed off. Well, that was a plus.

I took off my jacket and slid into a chair. I hadn't written up a report on last night. I wondered if I should have. But I would have had to tell too many lies.

J came over and sat on the edge of the table. Something had changed in him, and I could see it in the way he looked at me. The anger and hostility were absent. His emotions were still locked down, and he still had eyes of frost and blue marble. But now he reminded me of a young Gregory Peck in that old movie To Kill a Mockingbird To Kill a Mockingbird: rangy, honest, incorruptible. Of course, he might just be a genius at manipulation, playing with my emotions like a puppet master.

He began talking, his voice low and kind. "First off, I want to say that as much as I opposed the creation of team Darkwing, I admit that, without you, we probably wouldn't know the information we do now without you. To be frank, the agency didn't get anyone to Bonaventure's before the delivery last night. They were supposed to be there. Communications fouled. If you and Benny hadn't tracked those men to Jersey City, we would have blown it."

"Ah, I'm sorry about the casualty," I said. It didn't sound as if he knew about Louis. Better that way. If Benny wanted to tell him, that was her business.

His voice was rea.s.suring. "You did what you had to do. We're not playing by any rules here. We're playing to win. We have to win. There is no alternative. We have the other two diamond couriers alive and well. They are, however, terrified by what they saw when you burst into the house. They haven't even tried to withhold what they know. They just never want to see the 'demons from h.e.l.l' again." J gave me a funny half smile, half grimace when he said that. He had seen a demon from h.e.l.l too.

I s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in my seat as he went on. "They've given us names and addresses of the members of the terrorist cell who were behind the transaction with Bonaventure. We've known for some time that the weapons were coming inside a container into Port Newark. Now we know something else, and yes, we suspected it all along."

"What's that?" I said, fear creeping into my voice.

He got up and went back to the window, staring out at the night. "The weapon is what they call a suitcase nuclear bomb, and the clock is ticking, Miss Urban." He was silent for a moment as his words sank in. Then he turned to face me again. "Our plan is to follow the terrorists to the pickup. It's risky. It's taking the whole operation down to the wire. But if we pick them up, and we miss even one, he could get there and set the weapon off before we knew what hit us. We need to make sure we get to the container simultaneously with them. Our suspicion is that they're going to load the weapon into a truck to leave the port, then transfer it into an ambulance and drive into Manhattan, or stay on the Jersey side if the tunnels are too well guarded. We have to stop them as they get to the container. Not before and, G.o.d help us, not after."

My pulse was racing, and I felt as if I were going to break out in a sweat. "We?" I asked urgently. "Who do you mean by 'we'? You and the agency?"

J gave me a long, hard look. "Me... and you you. And not just you, but Miss Polycarp and Mr. O'Reilly as well. The whole Team Darkwing. You've proved yourself. You have my total confidence. You got that when you delivered the deliverymen, so to speak." He almost chuckled, but stopped himself before he really laughed I guess that was as close as J ever got to a joke.

"When is this going to happen?"

"We don't know for certain. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. We picked up some chatter that targets tomorrow, so I think that's the most likely scenario, I can a.s.sure you that our people are in place. All the key terrorists are being followed twenty-four/seven. We're watching their safe house in Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey. As soon as they start toward the port, we will get you. Miss Polycarp, and Mr. O'Reilly on your cell phones. We need you to get to the port the quickest way you can. They have to drive about twenty-five miles to get to Port Newark. Depending on time and traffic, it will take them no less than forty minutes. You have a maximum of thirty minutes to get in place."

I broke in. "You know the only way to get there that fast from Manhattan is... is..."

"To fly. I know. Look, we're positive they can't risk entering the port during the day. Our information all along has been that this will happen al night. We have a backup daylight plan if we're wrong. But if ever an operation needed Team Darkwing, this one does."

He got up and went over to a PowerPoint presentation and flipped it on. A screen, which had been set up on the far side of the table, lit up with a map labeled Port Newark Container Terminal. He took a laser pointer. "Here," he said, "are the large yellow stands called 'Portals.' They are pa.s.sive detection-system devices that scan for explosives, specifically nuclear ones. No vehicle can leave the Container Terminal without pa.s.sing through them. On the far side of each portal is a traffic light. If the vehicle is clean, the light is green. If it's red, the vehicle is supposed to stop and wait for a customs officer.

"Obviously the terrorists are not going to stop. We will have men stationed there in a failsafe position should Team Darkwing be unable to apprehend the terrorists when they arrive at their container. But our plan is to have all three of you vampires waiting near the entrance to the port, here." He moved the laser pointer. "It's on Kellogg Street." He clicked to a photo. "This is what it looks like. If you were able to reconnoiter, that would have been optimal. However, at this point in time it's way too risky. We will direct you by cell phone when the terrorists are on the move. We have tracking devices planted on all their vehicles. Any questions?"

My head was spinning. I didn't know how to get the questions out fast enough. "You mean you want us to let the terrorists actually get to the container? We're just following them, is that right?"

He nodded yes, and I went on, "And what do you want us to do when the terrorists get to the container?"

"Stop them."

I felt a great anxiety wash over me. Was J telling me to kill these men after they led us to the bomb? After all, Darius said his people intended to do just that. I didn't want to misunderstand his meaning, so I asked him straight out: "Do you mean terminate them?"

i chose his words carefully. "That will be an on-the-spot decision. Optimally we would like to interrogate them. What happens at the rendezvous, however, is unpredictable. They must not get the opportunity to use a detonation device. If we set up an ambush using conventional weapons, they might push the b.u.t.ton. However, if Team Darkwing swoops down on them... well, if they do anything before they die, it will be saying a prayer for their immortal souls." chose his words carefully. "That will be an on-the-spot decision. Optimally we would like to interrogate them. What happens at the rendezvous, however, is unpredictable. They must not get the opportunity to use a detonation device. If we set up an ambush using conventional weapons, they might push the b.u.t.ton. However, if Team Darkwing swoops down on them... well, if they do anything before they die, it will be saying a prayer for their immortal souls."

My whole body was vibrating with tension. I was strung as tight as a piano wire. "J, this a tremendous responsibility that you're giving three vampires, who are not known for being the most reliable creatures in the world. Beyond that fact, one of the three is a gay wannabe Broadway dancer, one is a ditzy blonde from Branson. Missouri, and the other is. well, me. Now you're telling me that the lives of hundreds of thousands of people will depend on us."

"Millions, probably."

"Oh, that's just great," I said, starting to freak out. "And what... what..." I sputtered, "what about Bonaventure?"

"What about him?" J asked, as if he couldn't understand my question.

"Where is he? What do you want me to do about him?" I was starting to sound frantic.

"Bonaventure has left Manhattan. As for what you will do about him, for now, at least, nothing. He's out of this," J said with a finality indicating that this part of the conversation was over.

"But," I blurted out, "he killed Schneibel!" I stood up and was actually wringing my hands, I was so hyped.

"Miss Urban, get hold of yourself," he said. "Sit back down. Schneibel's dead. That's all we know. We don't know who killed him."

I sat down, but I couldn't sit still. "It had to be Bonaventure. I just know it. And now he has Schneibel's collection. J, please, this is a very bad thing."

"Look, Miss Urban," he said, leaning on the table with his knuckles and thrusting his jaw toward me. "A nuclear bomb is a bad bad thing. Forget about Bonaventure. He's not part of this anymore. All you need to worry about right now is stopping the terrorists." thing. Forget about Bonaventure. He's not part of this anymore. All you need to worry about right now is stopping the terrorists."

I didn't seem to be able to let what had happened with Bonaventure go. Maybe it was easier to deal with than the potential for a bomb destroying most of New York. "But J, what about Issa and Tanya-you know, Bonaventure's maid."

J clearly was getting annoyed with me. "That's been cleaned up," he said brusquely.

"But who killed them?" I asked.

"Miss Urban, for the last time, it doesn't matter. It has nothing to do with you anymore. Let it go."

I still had questions eating at me; I wasn't ready to let it go. I had been through h.e.l.l in the past twenty-four hours, and I was tired of J not paying attention to what I thought was important. Didn't I deserve to have answers? Wasn't I important enough? I went ahead and asked another question: "Well, what about the diamonds? It wasn't Benny's fault, you know."

"Miss Urban, drop it. The jeweler is insured against the loss, even if Bonaventure cashes the two-hundred-million-dollar check. You can, of course, return yours."

I had forgotten about the cas.h.i.+er's check that Benny gave me. It was home, where I had put it in my computer drawer. Last night seemed like a hundred years ago. My old habits of lying and deceiving resurfaced before I thought out what I was doing. I said, "Ah, I'm afraid I can't give it back. I don't have it. I was choked unconscious and tied up. When I woke up the check was gone. I don't know who took it." At that moment I couldn't explain why I lied, or why I kept the check. Perhaps I did it because J was in control of everything else, and I could control this. And perhaps I did it because I knew I could safely walk away with $50 million. As of yet, J hadn't answered any of my questions. I was so frustrated, I could have screamed. But now I asked one that I knew J wasn't going to like.

"What about Darius Bella CHI's? Did he have anything to do with this?"

J's face tightened. His eyes got hard and shone with a brittle light. "You would know more about that than I do, now, wouldn't you? Your boyfriend may have killed Bonaventure's bodyguard and maid, Miss Urban. It's what he does for a living. He may have been behind the communications foul-up that kept us from being at Bonaventure's to intercept the deliverymen. Someone fed us false information that weapons had been already found at Port Newark, and ordered the whole squad out there. Mr. Bella CHI's has his own agenda, Miss Urban. I told you that." J was yelling at me now, his voice shaking. "And for your sake," he shouted, "for all our sakes, stay away from him. Now Miss Urban, you're dismissed." He spun around and went into the office and slammed the door.

I didn't get to ask my last question. Who was Darius working for?

The first thing I did when I left the Flatiron Building was to huddle out of the wind against the building and check the voice mail on my cell phone. When I heard Darius, my heart did a little flip. "Hey, girlfriend," he said. "Just checking to see how you're doing. Call me ASAP. Thinking of you. 'Bye."

After listening to Darius's message, I wondered what his words really meant. My female psychoa.n.a.lysis started with girlfriend girlfriend. Did he mean it as a casual way of referring to a girl friend, or did he think of me as his girlfriend? Thinking of you Thinking of you. That was definitely a phrase loaded with caring. It put the girlfriend girlfriend in the relations.h.i.+p column. All in all, it wasn't an in the relations.h.i.+p column. All in all, it wasn't an I just called to say I love you I just called to say I love you message, but it wasn't business either. message, but it wasn't business either. What the h.e.l.l What the h.e.l.l, I thought, and I immediately speed-dialed his number. Darius answered on the first ring.

"Hi. It's Daphne. I just got your message. You doing okay?"

"Sure. How are you?"

"Pretty good... now. What's up?"

"You want to take a ride to Pennsylvania?"

"Bonaventure's? How did you know-"

"Do you want to go?"

"When?"

"Now."

Oh, c.r.a.p, I thought. Now? I can't leave Manhattan. What if J calls and says that the terrorists are on the move Now? I can't leave Manhattan. What if J calls and says that the terrorists are on the move ? ?

"I can't," I said in a voice filled with regret.

"Yes, you can. I promise you J won't call you before you get back."

Once again my mind reeled. It seemed as if Darius had been listening to my meeting with J. Well, maybe he had.

"Look, Darius, we're on a cell phone. I can't say much. Do you know for sure that I'm not going to be needed tonight?" It would be terrific if I could go. I really wanted to get those shaman totems and black art back from Bonaventure. And I really, really really wanted to see Darius. wanted to see Darius.

"I wouldn't be leaving myself if tonight was the night. I can swear that. The stakes are much too big. And yeah, Daphne, I do know more than J does. And something else I know: He just got a call that nothing's going to happen until tomorrow night, at the earliest. If you don't believe me, phone him yourself."