The October List (27 page)

Gabriela, knitting.

She closed her eyes, letting thoughts churn. Karpankov remained silent; she’d worked for him for years and he knew how her mind spun, when to speak, when to demur. For several minutes she was in a very different place. Making order out of tangle. And he said not a word.

When she surfaced she was for a split second actually surprised that she wasn’t alone. She re-centered herself. ‘I have some ideas. I’ll need somebody else to help. Muscle. Not afraid of dirty hands. Better if he didn’t have too much of a connection to you.’

Karpankov thought for a moment. ‘There’s somebody I use on a freelance basis. He’s good. Very smart.’

‘And he has no problem with?’

The sentence didn’t need to be finished.

‘None at all. He’s done a dozen jobs for me. He’s here now, as a matter of fact. Downstairs,’ Karpankov said.

‘Let’s talk to him.’ Her eyes settled on Gunther again. He looked back. His tail thumped with pleasure.

Karpankov made a call, politely asking the man to join them. Then disconnected. ‘What are you making?’ A nod toward the yarn. Green and blue.

Reminding of a
song she liked. James Taylor.

She said, ‘It’s going to be a shawl.’ She gazed at the tips of the needles. Ideas were coming quickly.

Five minutes later there was a knock on the door and Karpankov called, ‘Come in.’

A large man with blond hair, thick and curly, and a square-jawed face, stepped into the room and shook Karpankov’s hand. ‘Peter.’ His eyes were confident and he glanced at Gabriela without curiosity or lust or condescension.

‘This is Gabriela McNamara.’

‘Joseph Astor.’ The man’s face was a mask as he regarded her. He apparently didn’t know who she was, or care. That was good. Reputations were useless. Like praise and insults and high school sports trophies.

Hands were shaken. His skin was rough. She detected a faint scent she identified as shave cream, not aftershave. He sat in the other office chair. It groaned. Joseph wasn’t fat but he was solid, built like a supporting column.

‘You go by “Gabriela”?’

‘Yes, I hate nicknames.’ To her, ‘Gabby’ was a particular gnat. The only nickname she’d ever liked was her father’s. To him she was Mac. As he was the Professor to her.

‘And,’ Karpankov said, ‘I hate it when people call me “Pete.”’

The other of the triumvirate here said nothing but she sensed ‘Joe’ was not a felicitous option.

The dark red needles tapped their dull tips. Karpankov explained the situation about Reardon to Joseph, much as he’d explained it to her. Then he added, ‘Gabriela is taking on the job of finding these men and eliminating them. She’s asked for an associate to help.’

Joseph said, ‘Sure. Whatever I can do.’

Silence, save for the clicking of the needles. Finally she said to Joseph, ‘What I’ll be doing is putting together a set. You know the word “set”?’

‘Police talk for undercover operation. Like a play, sort of.’

‘I still have to think out the details – I’ll do that over the next few hours. But in essence I’ll get some people at my regular job to put together an operation, a sting, to catch Reardon and his associates. It’ll seem like some police officers’re after me, so that Reardon’ll believe I’ve got access to a lot of money and some secrets or something like that. With the cops after me, he’ll be inclined to believe it’s legitimate. I can talk my captain into it, I’m sure.’

‘Police?’ Joseph said, confusion hazing his face. ‘Your captain?’

Gabriela said, ‘I’m a police officer.’

‘You’re …’

‘I’ll call and set up a meeting with them, my captain and a couple of other detectives in a few hours.’

‘The police?’ Joseph repeated, though with less uncertainty than before.

Karpankov filled in, ‘Gabriela’s a decorated NYPD detective. That job has been … helpful to us. As you can imagine.’

Joseph gave no reaction other than a time-delayed nod. He then lifted an eyebrow. ‘How did you happen to end up there?’

‘My father was NYPD too,’ she said calmly. ‘I followed in his footsteps. I was interested in photography—’

‘She’s good,’ Karpankov broke in. ‘Real good.’ He gestured to a black-and-white landscape on his wall. ‘That’s one of hers.’

Joseph reviewed the image without reaction and looked back.

Gabriela continued. ‘I took a job with the Crime Scene unit as a photographer. One day we got a call in Queens. A shootout. Nobody checked my last name, and it turned out that my father was the victim.’

‘Well.’ Joseph’s brows dipped.

‘There wasn’t any mystery; he was killed by friendly fire. Two junior detectives just emptied their guns at a kid they thought was an armed rapist – he wasn’t either of those, by the way. The investigators screwed up and had the wrong man. The supposed suspect was wounded superficially. My father – he was backing them up – was hit six times and died instantly.

‘When the lead detective realized who I was they took me off the case – conflict of interest, of course – but I shot plenty of pictures anyway. I wanted to record who the killers were, his fellow cops.’

‘They went to jail?’ Joseph inquired.

‘No. My father’s death was deemed accidental. They were suspended for two weeks – with pay. Then returned to duty. Like nothing had happened.’

‘They’re still on the force?’

‘They’re no longer with us,’ she said quietly. Then she looked at Joseph. ‘But aren’t you really asking how I ended up
here
, working with Peter?’

‘Yeah, I guess I am.’

‘After Dad’s death, my mother fell apart. She was sick, emotionally sick, even before it happened. His death destroyed her. The department and the city didn’t do anything for her. It was like they couldn’t admit they’d screwed up. But Peter showed up on our doorstep. He saved her life, got her into a hospital. His wife took care of her too. It turned out that Dad had worked for Peter all along. I decided I was going to do the same.’

‘I didn’t want her to at first,’ Karpankov said. ‘But she was persistent. I’m glad she was. Ralph McNamara was helpful getting my organization inside information about investigations and the like. Gabriela’s been helpful with that … and with other skills.’

Gabriela didn’t tell Joseph that her father’s nature was ingrained within her. She could recall dozens of incidents at school where she’d ended up in the principal’s office, often along with security or even the police, after she’d lost it – madly attacking a girl or boy who’d bullied her or another student. The Professor’s status as a respected detective protected her from the juvenile system and he helped her learn to control her urges toward violence.

But control only, never eliminate.

Now Gabriela disposed of family history with a click of knitting needles. ‘So, with Reardon, we’ll have the NYPD help us.’ Ideas were continuing to come fast. This was how it always worked. The mind is an inventive and fertile creature. Some thoughts she discarded, some she wrestled into shape, some she let stand as perfectly formed components of her scheme. Her palms were damp with sweat and her heart beat a fast, visceral rhythm.

Joseph asked, ‘What can I do?’

‘I’ll explain to my captain and the police that you’re a confidential informant working for me. That’ll let me keep you anonymous. We’ll use only your first name. I’ll be Gabriela …
McKenzie
.’ Her eyes had taken in the brand name on the label of a bottle of whisky sitting on the credenza behind Karpankov. ‘Gabriela McKenzie, a businesswoman of some sort, and you’ll be extorting me for a lot of money.’ A faint thud as an idea emerged. It was gold. ‘We’ll pretend you’ve kidnapped my daughter.’

‘You have a daughter?’

‘No. I don’t have any children. But you come up to me when I’m with Reardon and tell me that you’ve kidnapped her and you’ll kill Sarah if I don’t get you what you want.’

‘Your daughter’s going to be Sarah?’

‘That’s right. It’s the name of my horse. A filly I stable upstate and ride on weekends. But we’ll download some pictures of a six year old. Videos, too.’

Joseph nodded. ‘People’re idiots, how much they post online.’

‘Isn’t that the truth.’

‘What am I going to want from you that’s worth kidnapping a little girl?’

Another idea occurred. Sometimes they fell like snow. ‘A document. A secret list. Very valuable. A list that everybody wants – which means Reardon’ll want it too.’

‘A MacGuffin,’ Joseph said.

‘What’s that?’ Peter Karpankov asked.

Gabriela said, ‘Hitchcock.’ She was surprised Joseph knew the term. Not because he seemed ignorant – just the opposite – but he was only in his forties and the film director had coined the term more than a half century ago. She explained to Peter Karpankov, ‘A MacGuffin’s a thing, an
object
that everybody’s chasing after in a suspense movie. The treasure of Sierra Madre, the lost ark, the NOC list of secret agents. Doesn’t matter that it doesn’t even exist. It’s what drives the story forward. I’ll come up with some bomb plot or something equally ridiculous. Blow up a bank. Or take out the stock market for a few hours. The implication is that the people on the list stand to make a fortune when that happens. Short selling stock maybe.’

Joseph said, ‘What about we call this list something mysterious? Give it a name.’

Karpankov suggested, ‘I have an idea. How about the October List?’

Gabriela nodded. ‘Good, I like it. But why that?’

‘The wife and I went to the Hofbrau last night, Third Avenue. Thursday’s Oktoberfest night. The best Wiener Schnitzel and Sauerbraten in the city. Oktoberfest … October List. Just occurred to me.’

‘Perfect. It’s mid September; I’ll drop clues that whatever’s going to happen’ll happen next month. Now, Joseph, you want this mysterious list. And some money too. Reardon stole four hundred thousand from Peter. But let’s go for five – interest payment.’

The Russian nodded.

‘How will you get the cash from them?’ Joseph asked.

She considered this for a moment. ‘Ah, Reardon’ll come up with it for me to pay as the ransom. He’ll hit one of his accounts and cough up the money. Of course, what he’ll really use it for is to pay you – as an incentive to do business with them. Only you can tell them how to best use the October List. They’ll need you for that.’

Joseph too had a thought. ‘Let’s start out with four hundred thousand, but to add believability, maybe you could miss a deadline and I up the ante to five hundred thousand.’

‘Yes, I like that.’ Her eyes shone. ‘And when I miss that deadline, you send me something of my daughter’s to show you mean business.’ She happened to glance down at her fingernails, which were dark red. ‘Maybe … I know, a bloody finger.’

‘What?’ Karpankov blurted.

She gave a smile. ‘Just from a mannequin or a doll. Get some fake blood. Or buy a bloody steak.’

Joseph nodded, as if this were the most logical idea in the world.

She continued to him, ‘We’ll play it out till Sunday night. You pick a target zone – a safe house somewhere – and arrange to meet them. When they show up, you kill them.’

Joseph considered this. ‘I’ve got a warehouse in SoHo I’m just about finished with. I’ll use that. They think I’ve kidnapped your daughter, right? The place has a room in the back. I’ll put on some kids’ videos in there. When they go to check it out and open the door, I’ll take care of them from behind.’ Then he frowned. ‘But what’ll you tell your captain? If it’s an undercover sting, won’t they be expecting to get evidence, from a wire or something?’

It was a good point but she’d thought that through. ‘I’ll tell them that you – my CI – went rogue, killed Reardon and the others and stole the money. Then vanished. Nobody trusts CIs anyway. It won’t look too great – a failed operation – but the fact is, my captain won’t be very pissed off. After Reardon’s dead, we’ll search his houses and office; we should be able to close a half-dozen cases he and his crew were behind. And they’ll’ve saved the expense of trial.’

‘Brilliant, Gabriela,’ Karpankov said reverently.

Tap, tap.

Gabriela added a lengthy row to the shawl she was knitting. She had another thought. ‘You know, Peter, it would be helpful if it looked like there was someone
else
after me. It’ll draw Reardon into the set more if he feels there’s another player after the October List too. Make it seem that much more valuable. Any thoughts?’

Now Karpankov, sitting back, was the one scanning the ceiling with his gray-and-gray eyes. ‘Would it make sense if this person died?’

‘Interesting idea,’ she replied. ‘It
could
work. Why?’

‘I’m aware of something.’

‘Yes?’

‘There’s someone … this piss-ant from Brooklyn. Thinks he’s the Godfather. Hal Dixon. Do you know him?’

‘I think I’ve heard the name.’

‘He’s been talking about moving into Manhattan and Jersey. I’ve been thinking about taking him out. This could be the chance.’

Gabriela smoothed her skirt as she considered the additional player. She said to Karpankov, ‘You could meet with Dixon. Tell him you’ve heard that there’s this October List and that I have it. Give him the job to get it. When he comes after me, I’ll make sure nobody can see me and take him out. Afterward, I’ll tell my captain it was Reardon who did it.’

This brought up another thought, and the yarn ended up in her lap. ‘There’s a personal situation
I
need to deal with too.’

She squinted slightly as she explained, ‘I’ve been having some trouble with someone. It goes back a month or so. I’d finished a job and had taken care of the body, but the police were closer than I thought. I ducked into a movie theater and picked up this guy, so we could leave like a couple. It worked. But the problem is, he didn’t go away. It cost me a couple of dates. He’s turned into a bit of a stalker. He spies on me, shows up outside my apartment. He could eventually make the connection that I work for Peter. He’s even taken pictures of me when he thinks I don’t know.’ Her lips tugged into a grimace. ‘He’s pretty sick – he’s got a shoe thing. He starts salivating when he sees me in high heels. Takes pictures of me with his mobile, and always makes sure he gets my shoes in the frame. Damn pervert.’ She shrugged. ‘It would be helpful if he died too.’