Six Years
Page 71
I didn’t know what to say, so I went with the obvious: “Why didn’t he?”
“He realized that you wouldn’t be a good fit.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We work in a murky world, Jake. Some of the things we do are illegal. We make our own rules. We decide who is deserving and who is not. The line between innocence and guilt isn’t so clear with us.”
I nodded, seeing it now. The black-and-white—and the grays. “Professor Eban Trainor.”
“He broke a rule. You wanted him punished. You couldn’t see the extenuating circumstances.”
I thought about how Malcolm had defended Eban Trainor after the party where two students had been rushed to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. Now I saw the truth. Professor Hume’s defense of Trainor had been, in part, a test—one that in Malcolm’s mind I had failed. He was right though. I believe in the rule of law. If you start down that slippery slope, you take all of what makes us civilized with you.
At least, that was how I felt before this week.
“Jake?”
“Yes?”
“Do you really know how the Minors found Todd Sanderson?”
“I think so,” I said. “You keep some paperwork on Fresh Start, right?”
“Only on a web cloud. And you needed two of the three of us—Todd, Malcolm, or me—to access it.” He blinked, looked away, blinked some more. “I just realized. I’m the only one left. The paperwork is gone forever.”
“But there must be something physical you store, no?”
“Like what?” he asked.
“Like their last will and testament?”
“Well, yes, those, but they’re kept someplace where no one can find them.”
“You mean like a safety-deposit box on Canal Street?”
Jed’s mouth dropped open. “How can you know that?”
“It was broken into. Someone got into the safety-deposit boxes. I can’t say what happened for sure, but Natalie was still a huge priority for the Minor family. If you found her, it could mean big bucks. So my guess is, someone—the thieves, a cop on the take, whatever—recognized her name. They reported it to the Minors. The Minors saw that the box was taken out by a guy named Todd Sanderson who lived in Palmetto Bluff, South Carolina.”
“My God,” Jed said. “So they paid him a visit.”
“Yes.”
“Todd was tortured,” Jed said.
“I know.”
“They made him talk. A man can only stand so much pain. But Todd didn’t know where Natalie or anyone else was. See? He could only tell them what he knew.”
“Like about you and the retreat in Vermont,” I said.
Jed nodded. “That’s why we had to close it down. That’s why we had to run away and pretend that there was nothing there but a farm. Do you understand?”
“I do,” I said.
He looked back down at Malcolm’s body. “We need to bury him, Jake. You and me. Out here in this place he loved.”
And then I realized something else that chilled me to the bone. Jed could see it on my face.
“What?”
“Todd never got the chance to take the cyanide pill.”
“They probably surprised him.”
“Right, and if they tortured him and he gave up your name, it stands to reason that he gave up Malcolm’s name too. They probably sent men to Vero Beach. But Malcolm was already gone. He came up here to this cabin. The house would have been empty. But these guys don’t quit easily. They’d just found their first clue in six years—they weren’t about to just let it go. They would have asked questions and pored through personal records. Even if this land was still in his late wife’s name, they may have found this place.”
I thought about all those tire tracks outside.
“He’s dead,” I said, looking down at the bed. “He chose to kill himself, and judging by the lack of decay, he did it very recently. Why?”
“Oh God.” Jed saw it now too. “Because Minor’s guys found him.”
As he said those words, I heard cars pull up. It was so clear now. Minor’s men had been here already. Malcolm Hume had seen them coming and taken matters into his own hands.
So what would they do about that?
They’d have set a trap. They’d leave someone behind to stake out the house in case someone else showed up.
Jed and I both rushed to the window as the two black cars came to a stop. The doors opened. Five men with guns came out.
One of them was Danny Zuker.
Chapter 34
The men kept low and spread out.
Jed reached into his pocket and pulled out a pillbox. He opened it and tossed the pill inside to me.
“I don’t want this,” I said.
“I have the gun. I’ll try to hold them. You try to find a way to escape. But if you can’t . . .”
From outside we heard Danny call out. “Only one way out of this!” he shouted. “Come out with your hands up.”
We had both ducked down to the floor.
“You believe him?” Jed asked me.
“No.”
“Me neither. There’s no way they’re going to let us live. So all we’re doing right now is giving them time to set up.” He started to rise. “Find an escape route out the back, Jake. I’ll keep them busy.”
“What?”
“Just go!”
Without warning, Jed knocked out a windowpane and started to pull the trigger. Within seconds, return gunfire raked the side of the house and took out the rest of the window. Shards of glass fell on me.
“Go!” Jed shouted at me.
No reason to tell me a third time. I commando-crawled toward the back door. It was, I knew, my only chance. Jed started firing blindly, keeping his back against the wall. I headed into the kitchen, still moving low across the acrylic. I reached the back door.
I heard Jed let out a celebratory shout. “Nailed one!”
Great. Four to go. More gunfire. Heavier now. The walls were starting to give way, the bullets weakening and now penetrating the wood. From where I was, I saw Jed get hit once, then twice. I started back toward him.
“Don’t!” he shouted at me.
“Jed . . .”
“Don’t you dare! Get out now!”
I wanted to help him, but I could also see how foolhardy that would be. It wouldn’t help him. It would just be suicide. Jed managed to stand. He was heading for the front door.
“Okay!” he shouted out. “I surrender.”
“He realized that you wouldn’t be a good fit.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We work in a murky world, Jake. Some of the things we do are illegal. We make our own rules. We decide who is deserving and who is not. The line between innocence and guilt isn’t so clear with us.”
I nodded, seeing it now. The black-and-white—and the grays. “Professor Eban Trainor.”
“He broke a rule. You wanted him punished. You couldn’t see the extenuating circumstances.”
I thought about how Malcolm had defended Eban Trainor after the party where two students had been rushed to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. Now I saw the truth. Professor Hume’s defense of Trainor had been, in part, a test—one that in Malcolm’s mind I had failed. He was right though. I believe in the rule of law. If you start down that slippery slope, you take all of what makes us civilized with you.
At least, that was how I felt before this week.
“Jake?”
“Yes?”
“Do you really know how the Minors found Todd Sanderson?”
“I think so,” I said. “You keep some paperwork on Fresh Start, right?”
“Only on a web cloud. And you needed two of the three of us—Todd, Malcolm, or me—to access it.” He blinked, looked away, blinked some more. “I just realized. I’m the only one left. The paperwork is gone forever.”
“But there must be something physical you store, no?”
“Like what?” he asked.
“Like their last will and testament?”
“Well, yes, those, but they’re kept someplace where no one can find them.”
“You mean like a safety-deposit box on Canal Street?”
Jed’s mouth dropped open. “How can you know that?”
“It was broken into. Someone got into the safety-deposit boxes. I can’t say what happened for sure, but Natalie was still a huge priority for the Minor family. If you found her, it could mean big bucks. So my guess is, someone—the thieves, a cop on the take, whatever—recognized her name. They reported it to the Minors. The Minors saw that the box was taken out by a guy named Todd Sanderson who lived in Palmetto Bluff, South Carolina.”
“My God,” Jed said. “So they paid him a visit.”
“Yes.”
“Todd was tortured,” Jed said.
“I know.”
“They made him talk. A man can only stand so much pain. But Todd didn’t know where Natalie or anyone else was. See? He could only tell them what he knew.”
“Like about you and the retreat in Vermont,” I said.
Jed nodded. “That’s why we had to close it down. That’s why we had to run away and pretend that there was nothing there but a farm. Do you understand?”
“I do,” I said.
He looked back down at Malcolm’s body. “We need to bury him, Jake. You and me. Out here in this place he loved.”
And then I realized something else that chilled me to the bone. Jed could see it on my face.
“What?”
“Todd never got the chance to take the cyanide pill.”
“They probably surprised him.”
“Right, and if they tortured him and he gave up your name, it stands to reason that he gave up Malcolm’s name too. They probably sent men to Vero Beach. But Malcolm was already gone. He came up here to this cabin. The house would have been empty. But these guys don’t quit easily. They’d just found their first clue in six years—they weren’t about to just let it go. They would have asked questions and pored through personal records. Even if this land was still in his late wife’s name, they may have found this place.”
I thought about all those tire tracks outside.
“He’s dead,” I said, looking down at the bed. “He chose to kill himself, and judging by the lack of decay, he did it very recently. Why?”
“Oh God.” Jed saw it now too. “Because Minor’s guys found him.”
As he said those words, I heard cars pull up. It was so clear now. Minor’s men had been here already. Malcolm Hume had seen them coming and taken matters into his own hands.
So what would they do about that?
They’d have set a trap. They’d leave someone behind to stake out the house in case someone else showed up.
Jed and I both rushed to the window as the two black cars came to a stop. The doors opened. Five men with guns came out.
One of them was Danny Zuker.
Chapter 34
The men kept low and spread out.
Jed reached into his pocket and pulled out a pillbox. He opened it and tossed the pill inside to me.
“I don’t want this,” I said.
“I have the gun. I’ll try to hold them. You try to find a way to escape. But if you can’t . . .”
From outside we heard Danny call out. “Only one way out of this!” he shouted. “Come out with your hands up.”
We had both ducked down to the floor.
“You believe him?” Jed asked me.
“No.”
“Me neither. There’s no way they’re going to let us live. So all we’re doing right now is giving them time to set up.” He started to rise. “Find an escape route out the back, Jake. I’ll keep them busy.”
“What?”
“Just go!”
Without warning, Jed knocked out a windowpane and started to pull the trigger. Within seconds, return gunfire raked the side of the house and took out the rest of the window. Shards of glass fell on me.
“Go!” Jed shouted at me.
No reason to tell me a third time. I commando-crawled toward the back door. It was, I knew, my only chance. Jed started firing blindly, keeping his back against the wall. I headed into the kitchen, still moving low across the acrylic. I reached the back door.
I heard Jed let out a celebratory shout. “Nailed one!”
Great. Four to go. More gunfire. Heavier now. The walls were starting to give way, the bullets weakening and now penetrating the wood. From where I was, I saw Jed get hit once, then twice. I started back toward him.
“Don’t!” he shouted at me.
“Jed . . .”
“Don’t you dare! Get out now!”
I wanted to help him, but I could also see how foolhardy that would be. It wouldn’t help him. It would just be suicide. Jed managed to stand. He was heading for the front door.
“Okay!” he shouted out. “I surrender.”
