Read The October List Online

Authors: Jeffery Deaver

The October List (17 page)

BOOK: The October List
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Gabriela pressed a tissue to her eyes as she and Daniel were back on the sidewalk, heading for Central Park, silent and digesting the stark news they’d received in the lobby of her building. They were on a sidewalk crosshatched by sharp shadows from the trees overhead. The September sun continued to radiate fierce power, though little heat, like a distant spotlight. Occasionally Daniel’s arm brushed hers and she wondered if he would embrace her for solace.

He didn’t.

‘We’ll go to the office,’ she said, desperation in her voice. ‘Maybe the police are finished with it now. I can try to find this October List.’

She caught a glimpse of herself reflected in a window. How like everyone else she looked, how normal – tan stretch pants, tight burgundy sweater, leather jacket, the purse over her shoulder, the Tiffany bag dangling from her hand, a handsome man at her side. On their way to a movie or a health club or brunch with friends.

How like everyone else.

Yet how different.

‘That guy, Joseph,’ Daniel replied. ‘Jesus. You know, his giddiness was the most scary. His joking. It’s just sick.’

‘Part of me thinks I should go to the police anyway,’ she said. Then looked at him. ‘What do you think?’

Daniel considered this. ‘Honestly, I think the consequences could be disastrous if he found out.’

‘But they know how to handle these things!’ Gabriela said fervently. ‘They have kidnap specialists. I’m sure they do. Hostage negotiators.’

‘This is different. It’s not like Joseph’s asking for money that you can agree to pay him – and the police’d back you up on that. If you go to them – even assuming Joseph doesn’t find out about it – the October List is going to come up. And the cops’re going to want it.’

After a moment she said, ‘True.’ Another dab of tissue to her eye.

‘And we have to assume that Joseph’s doing what he threatened: having somebody watch you to make sure you don’t go near the police.’

‘You don’t deserve this, Daniel. You shouldn’t have anything to do with it, with me. I didn’t even know you twenty-four hours ago. You should just go home and forget all about me.’

Gabriela sensed his head swiveling.

He said, ‘Not really interested in that.’

‘In what?’

‘Forgetting about you.’ She gripped his arm and briefly rested her head against his solid biceps. She’d seen a movie starring the actor whom Daniel resembled, in which the man had removed his shirt, to the thrill of most women in the audience. Not only were their faces similar but their builds closely matched.

‘My office is in Midtown, east. Let’s get a cab. We should move fast. The deadline … six p.m. We have so much to do.’ She turned to look for a taxi.

‘Wait,’ he said in a sharp whisper.

‘What?’

‘We’re being followed,’ Daniel said.

‘Are you sure?’ She sounded doubtful. But she looked behind and saw a van easing to the curb. ‘Joseph?’

‘I didn’t see any vans before.’

‘If it’s police,’ she said, panic in her voice, ‘and Joseph sees, he’ll think we called them! He’ll kill Sarah!’

‘We’re not sure it’s the cops. Maybe it’s a coincidence.’

But the van wasn’t happenstance; it was in fact occupied by the police. This was confirmed when they noticed a blue-and-white NYPD patrol car start toward them from Columbus Circle, then brake suddenly and make a U-turn.

She said, ‘Somebody in the van just radioed the squadcar and told them to get the hell out of here. Yep, it’s cops. They’re hoping I’ll lead them to Charles.’

‘And look,’ Daniel muttered.

She followed his eyes toward what was probably an unmarked police car – a gray sedan with several small antennas bristling on the roof.

‘Goddamn it,’ she snapped, furious. ‘They’re all over the place!’

‘What should we do?’

After a moment of debate, she said, ‘Let’s go back to my apartment. Wait, walk over there, by the curb.’

‘What?’

‘Stay in the sunlight.’

Daniel frowned, uncertainly. Then he gave a smile. ‘Ah, you
want
them to see us.’

‘Exactly.’

 

In ten minutes they were back at her apartment building. They found no unwelcome assailants inside this time and stepped into the hesitant elevator for a ride to the second floor. In her unit, which faced south, she set the Tiffany bag he’d brought for her on an antique table by the door, her purse too. Shucked her jacket and slung it on a hook.

Daniel looked around the place, focused on the books, the pictures of a little blond girl.

‘Sarah,’ he said.

She didn’t bother to nod. It wasn’t a question anyway.

Daniel noted other pictures, mostly of Gabriela by herself. A few with her and her parents. One he studied for a long moment.

‘You and your father?’

She looked his way. ‘That’s right.’

‘He’s a good-looking man. Do your parents live in the city?’

‘He passed away,’ she told him. ‘Mom’s in a home.’

‘I’m sorry. What did he do for a living?’

‘Worked for the power company. Con Ed. Manager.’

The picture had been taken a decade ago. It depicted a twenty-two-year-old Gabriela and her father, exactly thirty years older; they shared the same birthday, May 10. Taurus. She told Daniel this, then added wistfully, ‘He used to say people who’re Tauruses think astrology is a lot of bull.’

Daniel laughed. And he looked over the image of the tall man, with trim salt-and-pepper hair, once more.

She didn’t tell him that the picture had been taken a week before his death.

They had the same expression on their faces, easy and humorous, unrehearsed. Her mother had been having a good day and she’d playfully snapped the picture.

Then Daniel noted a dozen framed artistic photographs, all in black and white. He walked close to examine them. They were mostly still lives and landscape but some portraits too.

He asked, ‘So these are yours.’

She was gazing out the window, through a slit in a side curtain. ‘What?’

‘These photos. Yours?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I’m impressed.’ He walked along the carpeted floor in front of them, bending close to examine each one.

‘I used to paint but I decided I liked photography better. There’s something seductive about taking reality and controlling it.’ Her voice was enthusiastic, but that energy suddenly vanished and she fell silent, as she gazed at a framed crayon drawing of a heart.
I love you Mommy
was painstakingly written in the margin.

Now Daniel eased to the window.

‘See the cops?’ She turned away from the artwork.

‘Not yet,’ he replied looking out again.

They discussed what to do next, how to save Sarah – getting into the Prescott Investments office, trying to find the October List and the money.

She fell silent and sat heavily in a chair. ‘It’s overwhelming,’ she said.

‘Nothing’s overwhelming if you take it step by step.’ Scanning the street, he clicked his tongue. ‘Yep. There they are. There’s a playground across the street, a couple hanging out there, heads down. Only they’re in business suits and there’re no kids nearby. They might be talking into microphones in their sleeves. Oh, and then on the roof of the building facing yours? It looks like that duo from the street.’

‘The roof?’ she asked with a frown of disbelief. ‘They’re looking in?’

‘No, they’re just setting up equipment, it looks like. Microphone – a dish of some kind.’

Gabriela turned away and looked absently around the room.

‘All right.’

Daniel looked at her inquiringly.

‘Let me know when they’re finished.’

She walked back and forth in front of the window, pacing anxiously.

Only a minute later he said, ‘Okay, they’re aiming some big phallic lens this way.’

She stepped close to him and whispered, ‘Let’s talk about Charles and the case, but don’t say anything about Joseph.’

He nodded.

For five minutes they carried on an improvised, but credible conversation about Charles Prescott’s alleged crimes and her desperate situation. At one point, though, real tears began cascading down her cheeks and she had to pause to compose herself.

Then, standing right in front of the window, she instructed, ‘Come here.’

‘What—?’ Daniel asked.

‘Come here,’ she repeated firmly.

Frowning, curious at her tone, Daniel did as instructed. As a cool autumn breeze flowed into the room from the open window, she gripped him hard and kissed him on his mouth. Tentatively at first, then more firmly.

‘Kiss me back,’ she whispered.

He was startled but he did as ordered, firmly and with passion – his grip on her shoulders nearly hurt. She could sense his genuine desire. She felt a burst of longing within her.

Then Gabriela forced herself to tell him in a whisper, ‘Step back, and look me over like you’re enjoying what you’re seeing.’ She stripped her burgundy sweater off.

‘I don’t have to pretend about that,’ Daniel mouthed.

In her pale blue bra and close-fitting stretch pants, she walked to the window, paused for a moment and slid the shade down. She then put the sweater back on.

‘Bummer,’ he whispered.

She held her fingers to her lips. She grabbed the TV remote and – muting the volume – turned the unit and the cable box on, then scrolled through pay-per-view channels until she found an adult movie. Two clicks and the bad film came to life
in medias res
, depicting a young couple going at it poolside in a very stressed lounger. The volume rose.

Uhn, uhn, uhn …

She nodded to the door then snagged the leather jacket from the rack in the hall. But her face grew somber as she looked at the garment on a neighboring hook: a child’s faux-fur parka.

More tears flowed.

Daniel put his arm around her shoulder, gave an encouraging hug. Gabriela pulled on sunglasses. He did too and they stepped out the door into the hallway, which smelled of carpet and cleanser. In ten minutes they were slipping out of the service entrance in the back of the building, and heading once more for Central Park, free of prying eyes and ears.

CHAPTER
11

 

11:15 a.m., Saturday
45 minutes earlier

 

 

 

 

‘I still can’t believe it,’ Gabriela whispered. ‘If you ever met him, met Charles, you’d think it was impossible what those men were saying.’

She and Daniel continued walking in silence into the shadows of the Upper West Side. They were almost to her apartment. There, she’d explained, she’d call her co-worker Elena and Charles’s lawyer and see if she could piece together what had happened.

She added, ‘He was the nicest guy in the world. When I got divorced, he said anything I needed, just let him know. He found a lawyer for the divorce. One of the best in the city. He lent me ten thousand for expenses. But it wasn’t a loan. I tried to pay him back but he wouldn’t take a penny.’ She took a tissue and pressed it to her eyes.

They turned down a canyon-like cross street to head west. In a moment they were at her building, a five-story brick structure a few blocks from Central Park, between Columbus and Amsterdam.

As they walked into the lobby a man, standing near the elevator, looked her up and down. ‘Gabriela McKenzie?’

‘Shit. Another cop?’ she whispered to Daniel.

Then their eyes noted he carried a paper Whole Foods shopping bag.

‘What’s this?’ she asked softly.

‘You
are
Gabriela?’ The man was six-two. He was solid, but not fat. Solid the way a bag of fertilizer’s solid. His hair was a mass of curly blond ringlets.

‘Yes. I’m sorry, who are you?’

A giddy laugh. ‘Hey, there. How’re you doing? Beautiful morning, isn’t it? Gorgeous. Predicting overcast and temperatures plummeting later, but let’s enjoy what we’ve got now, shall we?’

He strode up to them, moving in a lithe way for a large man. A faint grin. ‘I’m Joseph.’ He didn’t extend his hand. ‘Don’t try to rack your brains. We’ve never met.’ A nod at Daniel, who gazed into the man’s dark eyes. Under an unbuttoned black overcoat, he wore a loose-fitting brown suit and a dress shirt with two slashes of crease across the belly. His teeth, curiously, had a slightly pinkish tint.

‘And you …?’ She didn’t complete the question but instead asked, ‘How do you know me?’

‘Oh, I don’t yet. Not personally, that is. My loss, that. How you doing today? Not in the mood to chat? No worries. I’ve got something you’ll be interested in.’

‘What’re you talking about? Leave us alone.’

‘Wait. “Interested,” I said. Aren’t you curious exactly what?’

‘No.’

‘Oh, hey. I’ll bet you will be. Betcha five bucks. Want to take me up?’

‘Hey, fuck off, mister,’ Daniel said, moving forward an inch or two.

Joseph held up a hand as if warding off a blow. Grinning, cringing. Playful. ‘Just take a peek. Pretty please? I’m begging you.’ He lifted the shopping bag.

Gabriela’s head swiveled toward Daniel as Joseph reached into the bag and withdrew a windbreaker, black and blue like the water of New York Harbor at dusk. It was a child’s size. He also displayed a plastic doll, similar to Barbie. But the dress had been removed from the toy. The beige flesh glowed in a band of sunlight.

BOOK: The October List
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