Night Fall

“I’m not threatening, I’m warning. You know I’ve always respected your honesty and your work… and on a personal level, I like you.”

Actually, I didn’t know any of those things, but I sensed a small change in the direction of the wind, which was the purpose of this call. I said, “I feel the same way about you, Jack. Do the right thing. It’s never too late.”

He didn’t reply.

I said, “Gotta go. But one more thing…”

“Yes?”

“Therewas a fucking videotape, and therewas a fucking rocket.”

He didn’t respond to that, but said, “Welcome home.”

“Thanks. Now it’s time for you to come home.” I hung up.

Jill said to me, “Do you always talk to your boss like that?”

“Only when I have him by the balls.”

She laughed.

It was mid-afternoon, and Jill and I were having tea in the room. Somehow, in some way that I couldn’t verbalize, the tea and finger sandwiches went with the pink shirt.

Jill checked her cell phone, and there were two messages. She listened, then replayed the messages, and handed me the phone. The first message said, “Hello, Mrs. Winslow? This is Ted Nash, who I’m sure you remember from our meetings five years ago. I understand that there have been some new developments regarding the matter we discussed at that time. It’s important for you to understand that the agreement we made then is in jeopardy as a result of your speaking to a person who is not lawfully authorized to deal with this matter. It’s extremely important that you call me as soon as possible to discuss this before you do or say anything that will compromise you, your friend, your personal life, and your legal safeguards.” He gave Mrs. Winslow his cell phone number and said, “Please call me today to discuss this urgent matter.”

I glanced at Jill, who was looking at me. I said to her, “I’m sure he sounds more polite this time than he did five years ago.”

She forced a smile.

The next message said, “Jill, this is Bud. I got a very upsetting call here at my office about what happened five years ago. You remember, Jill, that we both promised each other, and we promised other people that we’d keep that between ourselves, and that they’d do the same. Now, someone tells me that you want to talk to other people about that. You can’t do that, Jill, and you know why you can’t do that. If you don’t care about yourself, or about me, then think about your boys, and about Mark, and also about Arlene, who I know you like, and my kids, too. This would be a complete disaster for lots of i

Bud went on awhile, his voice sometimes strident, sometimes panicky, then a little whiny. This guywas a complete asshole. But to be fair, his life was about to come crashing down around him and like most guys who have diddled, he didn’t think his diddling should have such a high price. Bottom line, Bud’s worst nightmare just became real.

Bud ended with, “Please, Jill, call me. Call me for your sake, and for our families’ sake.” As with Mr. Winslow, I waited for something like, “Take care of yourself” or “I still think about you,” but this was really all about Bud, and he just said, “Bye.”

I shut off the cell phone and looked at Jill. It occurred to me that two significant men in her life were real schmucks. I said to her, “Typical guy-only calls when he wants something.”

She smiled, stood, and said, “I’m going to lie down awhile.”

I stood and said, “I can promise you one thing-the pressure you’re getting from other people to stay silent will disappear as soon as you make your first public statement.”

She replied, “I don’t feel any pressure. I just feel a lot of disappointment… in Mark and in Bud. But I expected that.”

“Maybe they’ll both come around to seeing that this isn’t about them.”

“I’m not holding my breath.” She smiled. “See you later.” She went into her bedroom.

I walked to the window and looked down into the park. The sky had cleared a bit, and people were in the park.

I’d set the dragon loose and pointed it toward Ted Nash and his friends, who were trying to get it back into the cage, or kill it, or point it back toward me.

Meanwhile, the dragon was snacking on Bud, Mark, and their families-but I couldn’t concern myself with collateral damage.

I never thought this would be easy, or pleasant-but in the begi

For the people on Flight 800 and their families, it was always real.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

It was 4:32P.M., and I was sitting in the living room of the Plaza suite, waiting for a call from Dom Fanelli, saying, “Mission accomplished,” or words to that effect.

Kate’s Delta flight from Cairo was on time, according to the airline recording, and had landed at 4:10. So, I thought I should have heard something from him by now. But the room phone was silent. I checked my cell phone for messages, but there weren’t any.

Jill said to me, “Why don’t you call him?”

I replied, “He’ll call me.”

“What if there’s a problem?”

“He’ll call me.”

She said, “You looktoo calm.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want a drink?”

“I do, but I’ll wait for the phone call to see if I need one or two.”

She said, “I’m looking forward to meeting Kate.”

“Me, too. I mean, seeing her again.” I added, “I think you’ll like her.”

“Will she like me?”

“Why wouldn’t she? You’re very nice.”

She didn’t reply.

At 4:36, I decided to give it until 4:45, then I’d call Fanelli.

At 4:45, I imagined Dom Fanelli in Federal custody, Kate in a car with Ted Nash, and a call from Nash informing me that he’d trade Kate for Jill and the videotape. I could almost hear his voice saying, “John, Kate and I are going to spend some quality time in a safe house until you give up Mrs. Winslow and her home movie.”

I felt, for the first time in many years, a real fear gripping me by the throat.

I thought about my response to a ransom demand from Ted Nash, knowing that this bastard didn’t play by any rules. His endgame was to go for a total shutout-he wanted Jill, the videotape, Kate, and me. So, no matter how I responded to his demands, he’d cheat and lie, and there would be no exchange of prisoners; there would be only a massacre. Therefore, my only possible response to him would be “Fuck you.”

I looked at Jill. I wasn’t giving her up to Ted Nash.

I thought of Kate. She’d understand.

Jill said to me, “You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

She picked up her cell phone and said, “I’m calling Detective Fanelli.”

“No.” I said, “I’ll call.” I turned on my cell phone and waited for a message beep, but there was none. I shut off the cell phone and reached for the room phone just as it rang. I let it ring twice, then answered, “Corey.”

Dom Fanelli said, “Up his ass.”

“Dom-”

“What a total prick. How do you know this asshole? Here’s Kate.”

My heart started beating again, and Kate said, “John. I’m all right. But what a scene that was. Ted-”

“Where are you now?”

“In the back of a police car with Dom.”

I looked at Jill and gave her a thumbs-up, and she smiled.

Kate said, “John, Ted Nash isalive. He was at the airport-”

“Yeah. I know. But I’ve got some good news, too.”

“Why do you think it’s bad news that he’s alive? What the hell is going on?”