Officer Mulroney stuttered, "Well, I, uh—"
Gene repeated himself. "Out. Give us five minutes."
The men stood at attention. "We're sorry, but we have our orders."
Gene looked at Doug and Carl. "Arrest these men and place them in federal custody."
The officers looked at one another and reluctantly shuffled out of the room.
Doug chuckled as he closed the door, but it held no joy. "That was diplomatic."
"Don't care," Gene said.
He leaned over the patient. MacUther's face was gray, his eyes sunken. Heavy bandages covered his chest. He looks like I feel, Gene thought without humor.
Gene pulled a printed photograph of Paul Renner from his pocket and unfolded it. He held it up in front of MacUther's face and patted his cheek to wake him. "Hey. Geoffrey MacUther." The man's eyes flickered open. He pushed the picture forward. "Is this the man who shot you?"
"Yes," MacUther said. "Said he'd…hurt Jordan. Couldn't…."
Gene interrupted. "Where did he go, Mr. MacUther?"
"Son of a bitch. Looking for someone…who hired me. Didn't get it, but I think he…." A spasm wracked his body, then settled. "He got a lead. I tell you…you get the bastard? Threatened my daughter…granddaughter…."
"We'll get him, Mr. MacUther. Just tell us what we need to know."
"Don't have much. Calls himself Shelley. All I have is a…phone number. The same one…." He leaned forward in a coughing fit, splattering the sheets with a faint spray of blood. Doug looked at his vitals and gave Gene a thumbs-up.
"The same one what?" Gene prompted.
"The same one…calls a front. Gabrielle's…. A jewelry shop…downtown San Francisco…to contract jobs."
Meanwhile, outside the room, "Officer Mulroney" made a telephone call.
"We've got a problem. Some FBI guys are talking to him now. An Agent Palomini and two other guys." He braced for the anticipated explosion.
Shelley's voice was shockingly calm. "Did they make you?"
"No," he replied. "If they check our badge numbers they'll hold up. They threatened to take us into custody, though."
"Do you have their names?" Shelley asked.
"Just the one."
"What was it again?"
"Palomini. Papa Alpha Lima Oscar Mike India November India."
"I'll take care of it. Inform me immediately if anyone else visits MacUther." Shelley hung up.
* * *
February 2nd, 5:08 PM PST; Gabrielle's Fine Jewelry; San Francisco, California.
Less than an hour later, the floor lights turned off at Gabrielle's Fine Jewelry. Paul Renner came out the front door while jotting a phone number into a notepad that he had purchased from the Walgreen's down the block. He verified that the sign on the door was flipped to Closed, fiddled with the keys until he found the right one, and locked the door.
That done, he pointed the automatic unlock at the row of cars across the street and pushed the button. A 2006 BMW sedan blipped and unlocked its doors. Perfect, Paul thought. It always pays to kill people with good taste.
He got in the car and admired the leather and wood interior. Exquisite taste. He put the key into the ignition and turned it. The car started with a throaty, masculine rumble. He eased it out of the tight parking spot and turned left toward Embarcadero Drive. He was only a few short minutes from San Francisco International Airport. He looked at his watch. Or eight years in rush hour traffic.
He stopped at a pier to get a snack and relax during rush hour. It was nice to be able to eat local food, and nothing beat a Pacific crab cake fresh off the pier. Paul took out his phone to book a flight to Dulles International Airport. Nah, too predictable. He booked a flight to Newark. He'd rent a car and drive to D.C.
Once there, he'd arrange an unfriendly in-home meeting with a Doctor Emile Frank of the Department of Homeland Security, where they'd have a little chat. Paul smiled. For the first time in days, things were looking up.
Chapter 23
February 2nd, 6:20 PM PST; Highway 280, northbound; San Francisco, California.
By twenty after six, Gene wanted to kill whoever was responsible for rush-hour traffic in the Bay Area. It had taken them almost an hour to travel at most a half mile up Highway 280. At this rate it would take another six hours to get to Gabrielle's Fine Jewelry. Their flight left in four hours, and they weren't going to make it.
"Hey, Sam?" Gene asked the air.
"I'm not done yet, Gene. This is going to take a while." An hour earlier Sam had started crunching the data on Shelley, trying to crack his identity.
"Not that, Sam. I know you'll send it when you're done."