Night Fall

She looked at the ceiling for a long time, then said, “Why did I marry a cop?”

“Hey, why did I marry an FBI lawyer?”

She didn’t say anything for a while, then laughed. “You make life interesting.” She asked me, “So, is that my gun under the covers, or is that you?”

“Darling, that is my thirty-eight caliber, eight-inch barrel Police Special.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

I stood outside the Central Park South entrance to the Plaza, and looked down the street. It was 8:11A.M., and no sign of the patrol cars.

I glanced back through the glass doors and saw Kate and Jill standing near the entrance of the Oak Bar, waiting for me to give them a signal to come outside. With them was Patrolman Alvarez.

Across the street was a line of hansom cabs waiting for customers. The doorman said to me, “Can I get you a taxi, sir? Or are you waiting for a car?”

“I’m waiting for a horse.”

“Yes, sir.”

It was a beautiful day, and I realized I hadn’t been out in the sunshine and fresh air since Sunday morning.

It was now 8:13, and the patrol cars from Midtown North should have been here if they’d hustled. This is the point in a pickup that’s the most dicey-between the safety of wherever you were holed up and the street where you’re waiting for your people to arrive.

At 8:15, three police cars, without lights or sirens, appeared up the block. I signaled to Kate, then stepped off the curb and put up my hand. The lead car flashed his lights and accelerated, then came to a quick halt in front of me. The other two cars stopped at close intervals. I showed my creds to the two cops in the first car and said, “WTC, North Tower, as instructed, no bells or whistles. Loose formation. We’re shooting for an eight-thirty, eight-forty arrival.” I added, “Keep an eye out for company, and don’t stop for anything but a traffic light.”

They both nodded, and the female officer in the passenger seat said, “We’re all briefed.”

“Good.”

Kate, Jill, and Patrolman Alvarez were out on the sidewalk now, and I said to Jill, “Your car is here, madam.”

She smiled and said, “I’ve never ridden in a police car.”

I didn’t want to say “You’ll get used to it,” but I did say, “As discussed, we’ll all meet in the lobby of Windows on the World. You’ll have at least two patrolmen with you at all times.”

Jill said to me and to Kate, “I’ll see you there.”

Jill, I thought, looked composed, and I hoped she stayed that way if it got ugly later. I signaled to Alvarez, and he escorted Jill Winslow into the backseat of the middle car, then returned to where I was standing, as instructed.

Kate and I looked at each other. There wasn’t much left to say at this point, so we just kissed, and she said, “See you later.” She got into the lead car.

I stood there with Patrolman Alvarez and asked him, “Are you feeling mean this morning?”

He smiled. “Yes, sir.”

I took the videotape ofA Man and a Woman out of my jacket. It was the one that Jill had recorded over, but it didn’t have the jacket on it. I handed it to Alvarez and said to him, “Guard this with your life. And I mean your life.”

He put the tape in the oversized back pocket of his pants, which was made to hold his memo book, and he said to me, “Did you ever hear of anyone taking anything from a New York City cop?”

I slapped him on the shoulder and said, “See you there.”

Alvarez got into the backseat of the middle car, next to Jill.

I walked to the third car and got in. From the trail vehicle, I could see what was going on, and from the lead vehicle, Kate could make any changes to the plans, if necessary. Jill, in the middle car, with Alvarez and two other cops, was in the protected position.

The cop riding shotgun in my car was a sergeant, and he said a few words into his portable radio. The lead car made a U-turn on Central Park South, which not many people can get away with, and off we went in a three-car convoy.

I said to the sergeant, “What’s the route?”

He replied, “We’re going to shoot over to the West Side, unless you have a preference.”

“Sounds good.” I said to him, “Do you understand that some folks might want to fuck with us?”

“Yeah. They can fuck away all they want.”

“Everybody on this detail knows the drill?”

“Yup.”

“So, what do you think of the FBI?”

He laughed and said, “No comment.”

“How about the CIA?”

“Never met one.”

Lucky you. I sat back in the seat and looked at my watch. It was 8:21, and depending on traffic, we’d be maybe fifteen minutes late, which was fine. Nash, the control freak, and his breakfast club would be at least fifteen minutes early anyway, thinking we’d be early. They could sit and sweat into their caffe lattes.

Most meetings are mind-fucking games, and this one was going to be an orgy.

We made our way through traffic, and within ten minutes, we were heading south on Joe DiMaggio Highway, also known as Twelfth Avenue, and while we’re at it, West Street. Whatever, it ran along the Hudson River, and it was a nice drive on a su

It was about a five-mile run down to the Trade Center, whose Twin Towers I could see long before we got there.

In my jacket was the video store tape ofA Man and a Woman, which I’d put inside the cardboard case from Jill’s tape that said, “Property of the Bayview Hotel-Please Return.” If the Feds had any kind of warrant when I got there, they could serve the warrant on me, or Kate, or Jill, and try to take the tape, or us-or the tapeand us-to another location. But they couldn’t serve a warrant on Patrolman Alvarez, even if they had a clue that he had the X-rated version of the tape.

In any case, I didn’t think Nash and company wanted a major scene in a public restaurant where about three hundred people would be having breakfast. But maybe, if I was in one of my perverse moods, I’d give them my R-rated version ofA Man and a Woman.

I looked through the windshield, and I could see the patrol car with Jill and Alvarez, but I couldn’t see the lead car with Kate. Traffic was moving, but it was erratic, and a lot of truckers were driving badly this morning.

I looked at my watch. 8:31. We’d just passed the 30thStreet Heliport, and the Chelsea Piers were coming up. About another three miles at this speed, and we’d be pulling up to the Vesey Street side of the North Tower at about 8:45, give or take.

I actually wasn’t expecting any problems on the ride there, or during the walk into the lobby, or in the elevator that went directly to Windows on the World on the 107thfloor. In fact, I didn’t expect any problems at the breakfast meeting, which was basically a show-and-tell, to see whose dicks were bigger, and whose balls weighed the most.

I know how Nash’s mind works, and the guy is patient, cu