Countdown Read online

  “Someone saw him?”

  “We think there’s a good chance. Your father was well known at the café and—”

  He turned back to his room. “I’m going with you.”

  “No.”

  “It’s got to be dangerous. What if he’s still around? I’m not going to let you run a risk. My father was killed and he didn’t do—”

  “No, you’re more valuable here.” He started to protest and she said quickly, “I don’t need you. I’m going to have Brenner to help me.”

  He was silent a moment before his lips twisted in a mirthless smile. “Then I guess you don’t need me. I wouldn’t be much good to you, would I? I’m better at dealing with books than the real world. I never realized that I’d ever have to know how to fight people like Grozak.” He paused. “You’re sure that you’ll be safe with Brenner?”

  “I’m sure. Good-bye, Mario.” She hurried down the stairs before he could protest again. Trevor was standing at the front door. “You’ve phoned Brenner?”

  “Yes, and I’m going with you myself.” He opened the door for her. “Bartlett’s arranged for a helicopter. It will be landing in five minutes.”

  “No.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “No.” She repeated his words to her. “What part of that word don’t you understand? You’re not going with me. You have no purpose except to protect me, and Brenner is doing that. You told me that one of your jobs here at the Run was to keep an eye on Mario. Well, that’s more important than ever now.”

  “And what about keeping an eye on you?”

  “Grozak appears to have changed targets and is aiming at Mario. All the more reason for keeping him safe.” She saw his lips tighten and added fiercely, “I talked Mario into going back to work, and I’m not letting that go to waste. It’s important that he get that scroll done as soon as possible. Someone’s got to be here to encourage and reinforce him. That’s either me or you. And I’m going to Lucerne.” She opened the door. “Don’t try to stop me, Trevor.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” he said sarcastically. “You’d probably push me out of the helicopter.”

  “Right.”

  “And I wouldn’t dream of trying to quench that fire I seem to have lit.”

  “You couldn’t.” She looked him in the eye. “You were born in Johannesburg and you’ve been roaming most of your life. I don’t know whether you consider yourself a citizen of the world or a man without a country. Well, I do have a country, and I protect what’s mine. So you’re damn right I’m on fire. We’ll do what’s best to keep Grozak away from my people no matter who’s at risk.”

  “My God, a patriot.”

  “I’m not ashamed of it. Mock all you please.”

  “I’m not mocking. I’m envious.” He turned away. “Go on. Get on that helicopter before I start remembering that video of Eduardo Donato. I’ll take care of Mario.”

  A few minutes later Trevor watched the helicopter take off and circle east over the sea. His hands clenched into fists. Dammit, he wanted to call the pilot, Cookson, and tell him to bring her back. Instead, he called Brenner. “She’s on her way. Cookson just took off. I want her back here in twenty-four hours. If anything happens to her, I’ll have your ass.”

  “You can try.” Brenner paused. “I’ll keep her safe, Trevor.”

  “If she lets you. She’s full of piss and vinegar and the star-spangled banner.”

  “What a combination,” Brenner said. “It may prove an interesting twenty-four hours.” He hung up.

  Interesting? Trevor watched the helicopter as it flew toward the horizon. That wasn’t the word he would have used. It was going to be one hell of a—

  “She’s gone?”

  Trevor turned to see Mario standing behind him, his gaze on the helicopter. He nodded curtly. “She’ll be back as soon as she does the sketch.”

  “I wanted to go with her.”

  “So did I. She wasn’t having it.”

  Mario smiled slightly. “She’s a very strong woman.” His smile disappeared. “Have they found my father yet?”

  “No.”

  He shuddered. “I hate the idea of his body being tossed aside with no respect by that—” He drew a deep breath. “Have you shown the police the video?”

  “No, but I’m sending it to the authorities right away.” He looked the boy in the eye. “If you still don’t trust me, I’ll let you talk to them if you like.”

  Mario shook his head. “I don’t have to talk to them.” He added awkwardly, “I’m sorry that— I shouldn’t have believed that swine when he wrote that you—No, I didn’t believe him. Not really. I just couldn’t accept that I—”

  “Forget it. It’s understandable.”

  “I can’t forget it. I blinded myself to the truth because it wasn’t what I wished it to be. I closed myself up in my cocoon just as I’ve always done.” His lips tightened. “I can’t do that any longer.”

  Trevor’s gaze narrowed on Mario’s face. “Is this leading somewhere?”

  “Yes. Jane wouldn’t let me go with her because she knew she’d be safer with Brenner.” He frowned. “I’m not equipped for life outside my ivory tower. That has to change. I won’t be a helpless pawn with my head in the sand.”

  “You’re not a pawn.”

  “Grozak thinks I am. He killed my father to make me do what he wanted. He’ll kill Jane if he can, won’t he?”

  “He’d rather take her alive. But, hell yes, he won’t hesitate to kill her if it suits him.”

  “You see, I have to ask these questions that I should have asked when I first came here. I didn’t want to know anything that might make me feel uncomfortable and keep me from my work.” He shook his head. “What a fool I was. . . .”

  “You didn’t need to know. It was your job to translate those scrolls. It was my job to protect you.”

  “And now I have another job. I didn’t protect my father, but I can avenge him.”

  “No, we’ll handle it.”

  He smiled sadly. “Because you believe I’m not man enough to do it myself. I will show you. I may seem useless, but I’m not afraid.”

  “You should be, dammit.” Trevor frowned. “If you want to get revenge, get that scroll translated.”

  “I will. That goes without saying. But how fast I do it depends on you.”

  “Do I smell a touch of blackmail?”

  “Only a bargain. There are things I must learn.”

  “Such as?”

  “I know nothing about weapons. I’m sure you could teach me.”

  “Mario—”

  “Guns. That shouldn’t take too long.”

  Trevor studied him. Jane was right. Mario was changing, maturing, hardening by the minute. “You’re serious about this.”

  “And I should know some self-defense.”

  “I don’t have time to conduct a course in—” He stopped as he saw Mario’s jaw square with determination. Oh, what the hell. He couldn’t argue with the boy’s motives. He would have done the same under similar circumstances. But those circumstances had never existed for him. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been fighting for survival in one way or another. Ivory towers were the stuff of myths. “Okay, two hours a day. I’ll set up a target range on the Run. The rest of the time you’re working on the scrolls.” He held up his hand as Mario opened his lips. “And MacDuff owes me a favor. I’ll ask him to teach you some karate moves. That’s it, Mario.”

  “Starting today?”

  “Okay, today.”

  “It’s enough—for now.” Mario added, “Just one more thing.”

  “You’re pushing.”

  “It’s something I have the right to know. It’s what I should have asked in the beginning. Why is Grozak after the scrolls? Why did he kill my father?”

  Trevor nodded. He was too volatile to tell everything, but he deserved to know the basics. “You’re right. It’s not fair to keep you in the dark.” He turned toward the front do
or. “Come on in and we’ll go to the library and have a drink. You may need it—it’s a nasty story.”

  You’ve upset Trevor,” Brenner said as he met Jane at the plane. “He’s threatening me with mayhem if I don’t take proper care of you.”

  “Then do it. I understand you’re pretty good at mayhem yourself.” She changed the subject. “Have you talked to the waiters at the café yet?”

  He nodded. “It’s pretty busy early in the morning. Evidently there are a lot of regulars like Donato who show up every day. Albert Dengler, the man behind the counter, says he got a close look at the man Donato was sitting with. The café is sort of like your Starbucks, and he served him when he came to the counter. I thought it best to only tell him that Donato is missing and no details.”

  “Will he be working today or do we have to go to his home?”

  Brenner checked his watch. “He should be starting his shift in about an hour and forty minutes.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He opened the passenger door of the car for her. “Anything else?”

  “You can make sure I have sufficient time with him to get a good enough description to do the sketch.”

  “I’ll do my best.” He smiled. “It shouldn’t be a problem. If I have to do it, I’ll take over his shift. Of course, I can’t promise that the caffe mocha won’t turn out to be caffe latte. But I’ll be such a charming lad that no one will care.”

  “Just so you don’t make Dengler too nervous to concentrate.”

  “I wouldn’t judge him to be the nervous type. Or if he is, it’s not when he’s on his favorite pot.”

  “Oh, great. He’s on drugs?”

  “Marijuana. There’s no mistaking the odor that clings to him, and he appeared very mellow.”

  “Maybe too mellow to be detail oriented.”

  “Well, if he’s on the stuff regularly, he’s not going to have a great memory. You’ll have to see, won’t you?” He started the car. “But if he’s on the happy weed, he’ll be laid-back enough to give you all the time you need.”

  He usually sat over there.” Dengler nodded at a table by the wrought-iron railing overlooking the lake. “A nice old gentleman. Always dressed neat and tidy. Not like some of the kids who come in here. I have to tell them to wear shoes. You’d think they’d realize this is—”

  “Had you ever seen him with the other man?”

  He shook his head. “He was always alone. No, once he came in with a woman.” He wrinkled his brow. “Late fifties, gray hair, a little plump.”

  Donato’s sister, Jane guessed. “How long ago was that?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Six months, maybe.”

  The description was good—excellent, for the length of time from the sighting. Brenner was right about the smell of pot that clung to Dengler, but it must not be habitual if he had this decent a memory.

  “Was there anything unusual about the man who sat down at Donato’s table?”

  He thought about it. “He was tall, thin. Long legs. He seemed to be all legs.”

  “No, his face.”

  Dengler thought about it. “Nothing really unusual. Large eyes. Hazel, I think.”

  “No scars?”

  He shook his head. “His complexion was a little pasty, as if he worked inside a lot.” He paused, looking at her sketchbook open in front of her. “Can you really do this?”

  “If you’ll help me.”

  “Oh, I’ll help you. It gets boring here. This is the first interesting thing that’s happened to me in months.” He made a face. “That sounded very callous. It’s not that I’m not concerned about finding the old man. As I said, he was pleasant, never a cross word to anyone. You say he’s disappeared? Foul play?”

  Nothing fouler on this earth, she thought as she remembered Donato’s death. “We’ll have to see when we find him.”

  “Are you with the police?”

  “No, I’m a friend of the family.” That was the truth. “They’re very concerned. Naturally, I’ll turn the sketch over to the authorities after we get a good likeness.”

  “You’re very sure.”

  She smiled at him. “Of course I am. You’re obviously an intelligent man with a fine memory. If we work together long enough, we’ll do it.”

  “You’re flattering me.” He suddenly smiled. “But I like it. How do we start?”

  She picked up her pencil. “The shape of the face. We have to have a canvas to work on. Square? Round? Angular?”

  Almost done?” Brenner came to stand beside. “It’s been over four hours.”

  She didn’t take her gaze from the sketchbook. “I want to be as sure as I can be.” She shaded a few more lines to the left cheek. “It’s not easy, is it, Albert? So many choices . . .”

  “Leave her alone,” Dengler said. “We’re doing the best we can.”

  We.

  Brenner smothered a smile. She had obviously charmed Dengler into considering the two of them a team. It surprised him, since he had only seen the tough, wary side of Jane MacGuire. It had been interesting watching her skillful handling of Dengler. She was clearly a multifaceted woman. “Sorry.” He turned away. “Just thought I’d check. I’ll go back to my counter and clean the coffee machine or something.”

  “Wait.” Jane added feathering to the hair of the man in the sketch. “Like this, Albert?” She turned the sketch to face him. “Is this the man?”

  Dengler stared at the sketch. “My God.”

  “Is it him?”

  Dengler nodded and then smiled proudly. “Close as a photograph. We did it.”

  “No changes?”

  “You did the thinner hair. The rest was perfect before.”

  “Does this mean that I don’t have to make any more caffe latte?” Brenner asked.

  “He’s certain.” She handed Brenner the sketch. “Who is it?”

  She nailed him,” Brenner told Trevor when he answered the phone. “You were right. It’s not Rendle, it’s Wickman.”

  “Good. Is she on her way back?”

  “We’re just leaving the café. She’s still talking to Dengler. She spent forty minutes or so after the sketch was finished complimenting Dengler and making him feel like a big man. She said that if you have to use someone you should at least leave them with a good feeling about it.” He paused. “She’s . . . interesting.”

  “Put her on the plane and get her back here. You weren’t followed?”

  “I’m not an amateur. I’ll get her safely on that plane. Then I’ll scout around and talk to a few contacts and see what I can find out about Wickman. He’ll be long gone from here, though.”

  “Try Rome. That’s one of the places I ran into him.”

  “He may be with Grozak now.”

  “We still need to know everything we can about him. If he’s going to be the one doing Grozak’s dirty work, we have to take him down.” He paused. “But before you leave Lucerne, see what kind of rumors you can gather about the location of Donato’s body.”

  “Hey, is that important? There’s no doubt he’s dead.”

  “It’s important. Mario is hurting and he’s going to need closure.”

  “Okay. I’ll get on it. If Venable was able to tell you there was something going down here before Donato’s death, then there must be sources I can tap. But I thought you wanted me to get back to Colorado. Though, heaven knows I haven’t found out anything yet about Reilly.”

  “Give Donato twelve hours. Then hop on a plane to Colorado.”

  “Right.” He paused. “You’re still going to be able to control Mario?”

  “Control? Hell, I don’t know. He went back to work. I’ll take one day at a time. Just find the old man’s body.”

  Jane arrived back at MacDuff’s Run after nine that night.

  The minute she got off the helicopter, she handed Trevor the sketch. “Brenner says it’s Wickman.”

  He nodded after he glanced at it. “I called Venable as soon as Brenner told
me you’d ID’d him, but I’ll fax this to him right away. You did a good job.”

  She shivered. “He looks ordinary. Like a schoolteacher or a clerk in a bank. It seems impossible that he could do that horrible killing.”

  “That’s what makes him so valuable to his clients. He’s everyman, and who’d suspect him of being Jack the Ripper?” He took her elbow and nudged her toward the front door. “Go on. You need something to eat before you go to bed. You look beat.”

  “I ate on the plane. Brenner packed me a pastry and a ham sandwich he took from the café. He said it was the least they could do after all the hard work he did behind the counter. How’s Mario?”

  “Turning into the Terminator.”

  “What?”

  “I spent two hours this afternoon giving him the basics of firing a pistol. I told him unless he wants to become a sniper he can forget about rifles for a while.” He made a face. “He accepted my advice, but I don’t know how long I can hold him off.”

  “Why does he—” She broke off as she understood. “No, you can’t let him do it. It would be like putting a gun into the hands of a child.”

  “I’m not sure. He has an aptitude.” He glanced at her as he opened the door. “We made a bargain. He continues working on the scrolls and I make him the Terminator.”

  “It’s not funny.”

  “I don’t think it is either. But it’s going to happen. You told me to make sure Mario kept working, and I’m doing it. Tomorrow morning he starts working out with MacDuff on hand-to-hand martial arts.”

  “MacDuff agreed?”

  “Reluctantly. I called in a debt.” He followed her into the hall. “Think about it. If you were in Mario’s shoes, wouldn’t you do the same?”

  “Go after a man who beheads—” She drew a deep breath. Yes, there was no question she would want revenge and would go after it any way she could. It was just that Mario was a gentle soul and it seemed impossible to equate him with violence. “Where is he?”

  “Working on the scrolls. Don’t bother him, Jane.” His lips twisted. “And I’m not saying that because I’m jealous of that soft spot you have for him. We made a deal and he’s got to keep his part of it. You know that as well as I do. Time’s getting too short to play around.”