Saboteur: A Novel (14 page)

Chapter 29

Sullivan awakened to the smell of brewing coffee and
coughing. The girl, he couldn’t remember her name right off, was next to him on
the tiny pull out, smooshed against the wall of Tackett’s garage.

“I can’t believe I went on a date
to your garage,” she said groggily.

“It’s not even my garage.” he said
licking his lips, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Man you never stop,” she said
rolling over.

Her breasts looked even better in
the morning light. She kissed him softly. The ringing noise in his ears had finally
calmed.

“Nice to meet ya’ stranger.”

She slid off the edge of the tiny
cot into her jeans, which were impossibly tight. “I’ll let myself out.”

He lay staring at the ceiling
marveling at a girl who could leave like that. He thought of the professor and
his wife, their seemingly perfect life. Maybe it wasn’t so perfect after all.
He heard Tackett and the girl laughing in the room above him and jumped up
pulling on his own pants, the only pair he now owned. The night hadn’t exactly
gone as planned. They had only made it to Tina’s truck, where she had offered
him a joint. As she handed it over she asked him,

“So what you do, Nick, you know for
a livin’?”

“You don’t want to know,” he said.

“That’s silly, of course I do.”

He looked at the joint in his hand.
“I’m a cop.”

“Holy shit,” she said cracking up,
smoke billowing out of the tinted windows of the truck, coughing.

“Are you kidding?”

“Scout’s honor,” he said flashing
his badge without making eye contact. He stared at the joint in his hand. He
would need the help sleeping after all that had happened. He had two doubles
already and his hands were still shaking.

“Are you like, gonna arrest me?”

“That depends,” he said.

“Depends on what?”

“How good this is,” he answered
pulling the joint to his nose for a sniff, then taking a hit.

“Ahhh, goddamn!” the girl laughed.
“This is gonna be a fun night. What do I have to do to get handcuffed?” she
said suddenly looking serious.

“Drive north on Interstate 5,” he
said looking at his phone. “Go left on Via de la Valle and make two rights.”

“Whatever you say, Officer.
Whatever you say.”

He replayed the images of the night silently with a sly grin
on his face, running his hands through his hair. Tackett came to the top of the
stairs yelling,

“There’s exactly one cup of coffee
left. Ya’ got thirty seconds before it’s gone,” he yelled. Sullivan appeared
yawning deeply at the top of the stairs.

“Before you say a word, that Tina
seems nice so keep it on the up and up. I like drinking at that club and if you
fuck it up for me--”

“I don’t think you need to worry
about Tina” he said laughing. “If anyone got used last night, I’m pretty sure
it was me.”

“You know Tierney is going to be so
pleased we’re living together.”

“Fuck Bob. I’m done as police, but
I want to solve this case before I really quit.”
“You’re not serious.”

“I am. Especially about catching
this guy. It may be the only way left for me to really spit in Bob’s face,
metaphorically speaking of course.”

“Metaphorically, right.”

 
“Let’s talk about your theory for a
minute,” Tackett said grimacing.

“I don’t have a theory, actually. I
didn’t mean to give you that impression. I just know when I’m being lied to.”

“Do you really think a college
professor is a good candidate as an explosives enthusiast?”

“I doubt it. Ten to one he hired
someone to do the job. Maybe he thinks we have the evidence on him and was just
trying to get rid of it. It would explain why he warned us beforehand, with the
kid; maybe he’d given explicit instructions not to kill anyone.”

“Suddenly he’s grown a conscience
after murdering two detectives?”

Sullivan slurped at his coffee.
“This is really
shitty,
you know?” he said wincing as
he drank.

“It’s been in my fridge for over a
year I think, no shit.”

“Fuck, I’m going to die, aren’t I?”
he said spitting dramatically into the sink.

They both laughed.

“Let’s see, you met with him at 10
am right? And before noon the house went up. That’s quick.”

“Maybe he is involved with someone
else like I said. Someone he could call right away. Should we tap him?”

“Based on? No chance with Tierney,
with as little as you have. I’d tell him nothing by the way.”

“Now I’m answering to Sheppard.”

“Ahhh--daddy’s little tick turd.
He’s a sight better than Bob in some ways and worse in others. Good thing is
I’m a civilian now. Maybe I need to investigate the possibility of higher
education as a building block to my future.”

“What you need is a goddamn
decorator,” he said looking around the empty room in disgust. Hang a picture on
the wall for God sakes. Here, I’m sending you one right now. Keep me posted on
what you find and I’ll let you know what the professor is up to, if anything.”

“Be careful, ok.”

“Of course. I’m gonna check in with
Rodriguez, see if the bomb squad has come up with anything.” He walked to the
stairs. “I’ll just let myself out through the garage.”

Tackett looked down at his phone.
It was a picture from the night before; Tina was flashing the camera, already
in her underwear and shirtless.

Ah, to be young again, he thought.
And to have a face like the son of a bitch wouldn’t hurt either.

Chapter 30

“What if they’re telling the truth? What if they hurt her?”
Downy said looking frightened.

“You’re not suggesting we don’t
contact the police? How did they get in to the house?”

They had been to every door.
Everything was locked.

“The blood on the sheet, my God
they must have kept her quiet, walked her out with a--” He couldn’t finish the
sentence.

“The garage?”

“It’s the only way.”

 
He pulled at the garage door but nothing
happened. It was stuck solidly in place. He yanked at it with all his strength.
It moved only a few inches and then sprung back into place.

“No way, not without us hearing,
and how would they get it back down?”

He grabbed his phone again dialing Taber Hall, where all the
freshmen students were forced to spend their first year. “Hi, this is Professor
Noah Downy calling from the History department. I am checking in on a friend’s
daughter who is staying there; we’re having a hard time locating her. If you
could have an R.A. check if she is in her room, it would really be really
appreciated?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Your name was?”

“Professor Noah Downy, I’m looking
for Samara Patterson, a student from my class,” he said shuffling the phone
awkwardly. “Her family is having a hard time getting in touch. I’m a friend of
theirs and we just want to make sure she is ok.”

He could feel in his heart that it
was a wasted call. She wasn’t there and she wasn’t ok.

“I’m ringing her room right now,
sir.”

He paced.

“There’s no answer, sir. Let me
send Lisa, our R.A. over there; she’s on the laundry floor and it will just
take her a couple of minutes. We can stay on the line, ok.”

“Yes, yes, thank you.”

Downy sat next to Naomi, who kept
looking around as if she thought they were being watched. She stared back at
the note. It was a strange kind of handwriting, somehow too angular and rigid.
She was sure someone foreign to English had written it.

“Sir, Lisa is actually at her door
now, but there’s no answer.”
“Can she go inside to look, just to be sure?”

“Usually not, but I know you and
under these circumstances.”
He could hear the woman telling the RA to ‘just go inside and see if she is
there, that’s all.’

“Sir, are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Her room is empty, Lisa says.”

“Ok, thank you.”

“Professor, should I contact campus
security?”

He realized the call was going to
alert the authorities and set off a chain of events that would quickly be out of
his control. Just what the note said not to do.

“No, ma’am I don’t think that’s
necessary yet, but thank you for your help. We still have a couple of places
left to look. If you should see her, could you have her call immediately? She
has my number; I am a friend of her family.”

“I’ve seen her; she’s the really
pretty dark haired girl right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I will tell her, sir.”

“Thank you.”

Downy gripped the phone. Naomi
looked up at him from the note.

“The writing is definitely foreign;
it’s English, but the letter shape is Greek or maybe Arabic. This has to be
connected to Nazim. Maybe they are being held too, blackmailed somehow.” It
made some sense. But who?

“We need to call the police, Noah.”

“We will. The cop I talked to the
other day. I can ask him what we should do.”

His phone beeped. He looked down.

“It’s Samara!” he said excitedly.
“It’s a text.”

She breathes only
because you haven’t made that call.

Come alone.

G.

“Jesus!” he screamed, showing the
screen to Naomi, “I need to call Clellon, maybe he knows something.”

“Come inside, it scares me standing
out here alone,” she said looking nervously in every direction.

“Let’s go to Woody’s and use the
phone there. I don’t feel safe on this line anymore. How else could they know?”
he said throwing his hands in the air.

“They’re watching us right now--”
“Yeah ok, let’s go.”

They jumped into the car as fast as
they could and sped off. On their back patio at that very moment sat a man in a
hat, a cheap tourist’s hat, the kind that makes everyone look like they’re on
safari. He propped his feet up on the balcony and turned up a bottle of Downy’s
finest scotch for a good long drink.

“Here’s to--to getting things right
the second time,” he said.

Chapter 31

The man awoke, eyes fluttering and could feel the beating of
his heart against his throat. The ground was cold and hard and his face had
been pressed against it for some time. He knew he had been sleeping a long
while from the lack of pain in his legs, which had become a feeling so common
to him in old age. His eyes were clear now though and if not for his confusion
he would swear he’d had the best sleep of his life. The smell in the room was
an odd mix of something burning and something sweet. Smoke, nearly translucent,
billowed sideways from the corner of the room and he moved his body up to the
sitting position. Where the hell was he? Cast iron bars told him he was not in
friendly territory. He remembered the cutthroats from his youth who had taken
him. Being a prisoner didn’t frighten him then, but not knowing the nature of
the threat did. He was still alive, so there was a good chance someone was
planning to ransom him. If it were only revenge he would be dead already. Who
on earth would think they could get away with such a thing? He wanted to meet
them.

A voice, barely a whisper, echoed
from the corner of the room. “Hello my friend.”

He tried to speak in response, but
when he opened his mouth only a croak came out, followed by a violent fit of
coughing.

“There’s wine over there,” the
voice said again, coming out low and deep. His fit lessening, he reached for
it, swallowing wildly. The thirst was overwhelming. He had been asleep for a
long time indeed. His stomach was empty and pangs of hunger sent waves of
nausea through his entire body.

“You can’t eat yet. You’ll get
sick.”

“Who are you?” the man finally
managed to say, though he still could not see to whom he spoke. Through the
smoke a dark figure appeared, cloaked so that he could not see.

“I’m here to watch over you my
friend.”

“My friends rarely lock me up. Are
you sure we’re friends?”

“Absolutely sure. I’m you’re only
friend, in fact. I brought you here to save you.” The cloaked man’s voice was
raw and deep.

The image of his nephew suddenly
returned, and with it their strange early morning meeting. His begging him to
come with him and then--his last memories were of some trick, a deception. He
hadn’t anticipated being betrayed by the boy.

 
“You are with my nephew then?”

“No, not anymore I’m afraid. He is
with the gods this night.”

“Dead then?”

“More or less.”

“You speak in riddles and hide your
face. If you plan to ransom me let me tell you that you’ll be the richest man
in the world for the short time you live.”

“I really do love you sometimes,
you know. It’s rare to get a glimpse of--”

The man was confused by the
response. In the darkness he could hear the cloaked stranger now weeping.

“Do we know one another? I admit
your voice is familiar, but unless I can see you…”

“You don’t want that.”

He had seen the cloaked face
already hadn’t he, but now remembered the sight had somehow horrified him. What
had scared him so? A wave of unexpected terror overtook the man and without
warning he began to vomit violently onto the floor. The man in the hood came
closer.

“It will pass. I have fresh food
coming for you in a few hours.”

The man dry heaved a few final
gasps and sat up again. “Why am I so sick?”

“It’s the medicine I have given
you. I assure you without it you’d be much worse off. I put a fresh change of
clothing over there, when you feel up to changing.”

The man looked into the corner and
recognized his own cloak and undergarments. “How have you come by my things?
Where is my wife?”

“They’re all safe, you needn’t
worry about them.”

“Where are we?”

“Not far from home, not really.”

“There will be a great riot over my
disappearance, you know? Even now the whole city will be in a frenzy.”

“Yes, I’d love to see it in fact,
but that’s a part of this adventure we’ll both have to forgoe I’m afraid.”

“So should I just lay here and be
content?”

“That would be wise. Later we can
talk, but right now the less you know the safer you will be. I have but a
little time left I’m afraid, but you have much, much more.”

The cloaked man coughed suddenly,
shaking his whole body violently. “You’re ill too?” the man asked.

“Terminally,” he said with a
sarcastic laugh. “But I’m not afraid. I know you aren’t a vengeful man, but you
may one day feel a need for revenge. It’s up to you really. Maybe you will
forgive everyone instead, as you so often do.”

“Free me now and I will leave you
with a day’s head start.”

The cloaked man laughed now, a
laugh so familiar that it quieted his building rage.

“Are you from Bithynia? I have
heard you laugh before, haven’t I?”

“Perhaps you have,” the man said
still laughing. The hooded face leaned in closer. “Do you remember the girls in
Bithynia? What a night that was.”

So
they did know one another,
he thought silently.

“I have no doubt that if I tried to
kill you, you would charm me out of it somehow and that if you hunted me, I’d
be a happy prey.”

“Are you mad?”

“Not yet, though the thought has
occurred to me of late.”

“Then I will spare you my friend,
if you will only let me go. That is a promise.”

“Thank you for that kindness, but
it’s unnecessary.”

“It is I who has spared you.”

And as he spoke the mysterious
stranger pulled the cloak away from his face. His captive sat stone-faced on
the floor suddenly speechless. His eyes glazed over and his pupils enlarged at
the sight.

With barely a whimper he spoke,
“You!” before slumping again on his side, falling into deep unconsciousness.