Gallows Pole, page 21
He looked up to see Nils standing in the doorway. There was a strange expression on the boy’s face.
“What do you need, son?” he asked, the strain making his voice sharper than he’d intended.
Nils held up an envelope. “This was on top of the printer. In my room.” He walked over and handed it to his father.
Roger studied it. It was good quality paper, and the words on the front were written in a neat, block letters. Roger looked at it for a moment, a chill running up the back of his neck. He opened it and read the words inside. His hands began to tremble as he reached for the cell phone he’d been given.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
They made the trip back to Lanier’s in silence, Melissa slumped in the passenger seat. The ride up in the crowded elevator was silent, and awkward as well. No one spoke until they were inside.
“Okay, people,” Bishop said. “Things have definitely gone in the shit. We need to regroup. Everyone needs to stand down, find a rack, and grab some Z’s. That’s an order. We’re back on the line by 0700. Understood?” A ragged chorus of “Yessir’s” answered him. Melissa noticed that even Collette responded.
Lanier stepped over to her. “The rest of us are doubling up,” he said to Melissa. “But you can have the smaller guest bedroom to yourself.”
“Thanks,” she said, “but I don’t know how I could possibly sleep.”
“Best learn,” he smiled. “You never know when you’ll get another chance.”
The room was small, a queen-sized bed and dresser taking up most of the space. both looked expensive, and the bed, when she lay down on it, was the most comfortable she’d ever experienced. Despite that, and despite her exhaustion, sleep refused to take her. She wanted to cry. She wanted to fall apart and wail with fear and frustration and anguish. But she couldn’t do that, either. So she lay on her back, stared at the ceiling, and listened to the blood roaring in her ears. She felt every nerve stretched to its breaking point.
There was a soft knock at the door. “Come in,” she said.
Bishop came in and closed the door behind him. He didn’t sit down.
“Just checking to see if you’re okay,” he said.
She sat up and leaned back against the headboard, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I’m fine.”
He sat down next to her. “I’m not sure I buy that.”
“Well, maybe I’m not,” she answered. “But I think I’m entitled not to be, don’t you? I’ve been pumped full of a drug that turned me into a zombie. I’ve been shot at. My car, so I hear, is completely destroyed. I’ve nearly been kidnapped. My son’s been threatened, and my ex is furious at me.” She laughed bitterly. “Okay, that last part’s pretty normal. Oh, and I understand that people I’ve never met want to disappear me off the face of the earth because I stumbled over something I wasn’t supposed to.” She was beginning to shake.
“I know,” he said. He put an arm around her. She almost pulled away, but then relaxed. His arm felt good. He smelled good. She looked up and into his eyes, and then his lips were on hers, and that felt good too. His other hand went to her hair, caressing gently, and she heard herself moan, deep in her throat. She wanted to let him go on, to let him make her forget the fear, even for just a little bit. Collette’s words came back to her: Is it Bishop? And something inside her whispered Yes. Yes, it is.
At the thought, she broke the kiss and pulled away, not completely out of his arms, but far enough so that she could put a hand on his chest, holding them a few inches apart. “Wait,” she whispered.
He took his hand from her hair. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“I didn’t say stop,” she said. “I said wait.”
He kissed the top of her head tenderly. “You do realize I’ve been in prison the last two years. Waiting isn’t easy.”
“Hah,” she said. “Sorry about that.” She nestled back against his chest. “I just can’t do this…right now. You take my meaning?”
“I do,” he said. He gave her a squeeze, then started to release her. She pulled back against him. “I wasn’t being clear,” she said. “This,” she squeezed him back. “This I can do. Right now. Later…” She took a deep breath. “If there is a later…well…” She trailed off, unable to continue, hoping he got it.
“I think,” he said slowly, “You’ve given me a very powerful incentive to make sure there’s a later.”
She laughed. “Thanks,” she said. They stayed that way for a long time, without speaking. Finally she pulled away, slowly, giving him a quick kiss to let him know it wasn’t a rejection. He sat up, shook his head as if to clear it, took a deep breath.
“So,” she said. “What do we do now?”
There was a soft knock at the door. They looked at each other. Bishop chuckled. “Should I hide in the closet?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not my mom,” she said as she got up.
It was Sims. “Felix got a message,” he said. “From your…” he noticed Bishop standing up behind her. “From your ex,” he said. “Evening, sir.”
“Evening, Sims,” Bishop said. “Was it a private message?”
Melissa’s heart leaped into her throat. “Is it about Nils?”
“No sir. And, ah, ma’am. He said he’d gotten a letter.”
“From whom?” Bishop said.
“It’s apparently from Mr. Campbell. He wants a meeting.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
In contrast to the rich formality of much of the rest of the house, Campbell‘s study was smaller, almost cozy, furnished with a deep, soft leather chair and matching couch and paneled in dark wood. A pair of tall windows looked out past the covered front porch onto the driveway, a wide loop of immaculate white gravel. Bache entered the study and took a seat opposite Campbell. The older man was looking intently at something on the large computer monitor sitting atop his desk. She sat silently for a few moments, waiting until she grew annoyed. “You called for me, Herr Campbell?” she said finally.
“Take a look at this,” he said. He turned the monitor around to face her.
She leaned forward. The video on the screen looked as if it were taken from inside a vehicle, the camera looking out over the hood. Two policemen were standing in what looked like a normal suburban front yard, speaking with a man in a loudly patterned shirt. The man seemed upset about something.
“Police video,” Campbell explained.
She didn’t understand. “Please?”
“A lot of police cruisers carry a camera inside the car now. For evidence. And protection if someone decides to sue them, I suppose.”
She was impatient. He had asked her to come up with psychological profiles of the various members proposed for whatever team he was putting together, then buried her in dossiers and information about them. Now, just as she was starting to get a handle on the assignment, he’d pulled her away to watch police videos. “And these people are?” she asked.
“Watch.” As she looked, two men came into the frame from the right.
“Bishop,” she said. “And Sims.”
“Yes.” Bishop was speaking to the officer who seemed to be in charge. The officer was nodding. He said something back, then started towards the car.
“When was this…” she began.
“Watch,” he insisted.
A woman came into the frame from the left. She was slim, blonde, pretty, Bache thought, but she looked stressed. Then she noticed Bishop.
“Ah,” she said.
“You see it,” Campbell said.
The camera swung away from the scene. Apparently the police car was leaving. The screen went blank. Campbell turned it back towards him.
“Who is she?”
“An FBI agent named Saxon. She’s after the Hangman.”
“And Bishop is in love with her. Or at least powerfully protective of her.” It was an effort to keep the strain out of her voice.
“You’re sure of that?”
“From his face, his body language…no question. A blind man could see it.”
“Perhaps not,” Campbell chuckled. “But I’m glad you can.” He stood up, stretched, grimaced slightly with the strain on his aging muscles. Then he looked at her appraisingly. “Bishop’s feelings for this woman,” he said. “They bother you.”
She stood up, cursing herself inwardly for revealing too much. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve worked together before, I believe,” he said.
“We have.”
“And your prior relationship…”
“Was purely professional,” she said. “I assure you.”
“I’m sure it was,” he said. “I’m sure it was.” He smiled. “I’m sure you’d agree,” he said, “that this revelation opens up a number of possibilities for our meeting.”
“Indeed,” Bache said. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to be out of that room. “I would like to return to work now,” she said.
“By all means,” he said.
She could feel his eyes on her as she left.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
“It was in Nils’ room,” Roger said. The scrambled cell phone Felix had given him made his voice on the speakerphone sound subtly distorted, as if he was speaking underwater. “They were in my goddamn house, Melissa.”
“But there was no sign of entry,” she protested. “How did they get in and out without leaving any trace?”
“It can be done,” Sims said grimly. “But only if you’re very good.”
“They weren’t that good,” Felix said. “Your neighbor must have seen them leaving.”
“They were good enough,” Bishop said. “Mr. Petterson, what did the letter say?”
“It said ‘Tell Colonel Bishop I’d like to meet,’ Then a phone number. And it’s signed ‘C’.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“Send it to…” she stopped. “Shit.”
“What?” Roger said.
“Nothing.”
Roger’s voice grated. “You were going to say ‘send it to the lab’, weren’t you?”
“Yeah,”
“Well that’s out, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” She said. “I guess it is.”
His voice softened. “Now you know how it feels, Mel,” he said. “That feeling of being suddenly cut off from everything you used to take for granted. I…well, we don’t have time for that.”
“I know,” she said. Suddenly she understood him better, his anger, his bitterness. But he was right. There was no time. And Bishop was right there, along with the rest, watching her. “What number did he leave?”
He read it to her. She took a pen from Lanier and wrote it down. “Thanks,” she said. “Tell Nils I love him.”
“I already did,” Roger said. “But I’ll tell him again. Mel?”
“Yes?”
His voice had lost all the gentleness. The anger was back.
“Get these motherfuckers,” he said. He hung up.
She turned to the expectant circle of faces around her. She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. She realized her knees were shaking. Sims grabbed a chair and pulled it over to her. She almost fell into it. Now the shakes overtook her whole body.
“They were in my son’s room,” she said. “They could have…” the words choked off again.
They all looked at Bishop.
“The threat’s obvious,” Bishop said. “They wanted us to know, they can reach Saxon’s family any time.”
“Who the hell are they?” Lanier said. “Who could do that?”
“Other than us?” Sims said.
“Maybe I can find out,” Bishop said. “I’m making the call.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
“This is Bishop,” the voice came over the speakerphone that sat on the heavy oak desk, looking sleek and incongruous atop the antique wood.
“Colonel Bishop,” Campbell said. He took a seat behind the desk. Rusk took the seat opposite him. “It’s a pleasure to hear from you again,” Campbell said.
“That’s very kind, sir. All things considered.”
“Yes. There’s been bad blood. None of it, I’d hasten to add, on my part. I continue to hold you in the highest respect.”
Bishop said nothing.
“We need to talk,” Campbell said. “Face to face.”
There was a slight hesitation. “To what end, sir?”
“There are certain things you need to know. Things that might change your opinion of me. And possibly of Sergeant Heineman.”
“Heineman?” Bishop said. “Are you behind what Heineman’s been doing?”
“No. But I know about the situation. And there’s more to that situation than you realize.”
“I realize he’s been killing people. Entire families. And that someone killed Rutledge and tried to pin the blame for the other killings on him. Was that your operation?” His voice turned acid. “It certainly has your touch.”
Campbell ignored the gibe. “Colonel, you know I’m not going to discuss that sort of thing on a line I have not secured myself. Which is why we need to meet.”
Another pause. Again, Campbell broke the silence. “I’ll be at the Vietnam War Memorial at 9 AM. Meet me there, by the three soldiers.”
“Alone?”
“Yes. As I said, I only want to talk.”
“To tell me some things I need to know.”
“And to make you a proposition.”
“I’m not going to work for you again.”
“That will, of course, be your choice. I won’t try to compel you. But when you see what I have to show you, you’ll be better able to make that decision.”
“I’ll hear you out,” Bishop said. “On the condition that you leave Saxon’s family alone.”
“Of course,” Campbell said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Colonel.” He broke the connection and looked at Rusk.
“What is it you plan to show him?” Rusk said.
“What he’s capable of doing for love,” Campbell said.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
“You’re not seriously considering this, are you, sir?” Sims demanded.
“He only wants to talk. Or so he says.”
“Colonel, that’s bullshit and you know it.” He looked around the room. Lanier was seated behind the computer, with Felix looking over his shoulder. Both looked uncomfortable at the confrontation. Collette and Melissa stood across the room.
“Speak your mind, Major,” Bishop said wryly. “What do you think he’s up to?”
Sims brought himself under control. “Heineman’s gone apeshit. That’s created a problem for Campbell. It’s stirred up a lot of things that he wants to keep buried. So long as you were,” he hesitated, “staying with Calhoun, and Lanier and I were tucked away doing analysis, those things stayed buried with you. But now that’s all changed. More people,” he looked at Melissa and Collette, “are finding out about Iron Horse. So he’s trying to tie off all the loose ends. He started with Rutledge and the Lot Seventeen. You know he had to be behind breaking up Saxon’s team. When she wouldn’t play along, he tried to take her out. But the biggest danger to him is you. You know too much about Iron Horse.”
Bishop looked at Lanier and Felix. “Is this your assessment, too?”
Lanier nodded. After a moment, Felix did, too. “It makes sense,” he said.
“Which means that this most likely a trap,” Melissa spoke up.
“Maybe,” said Bishop. “Or maybe he wants to make a deal.”
“What sort of deal?” Melissa said.
“Won’t know that till I meet with him. But,” he looked at Collette, “how about I offer to trade our silence about Iron Horse for Sergeant Heineman?”
“He’d never go for that,” Sims said.
“It won’t kill us to make the offer.”
“It might,” Sims replied. “Smartest thing he could do is wipe us all out.”
“That won’t be so easy to do if we’re not all there, will it?” He stood up. “I’m going.”
“Alone?” Melissa said, her throat catching on the word.
He nodded.
“Fuck that. Sir,” Sims said.
“It’s not a request, Major.”
“As you’ve pointed out, Colonel, we’re not under command.”
“True. And you’ve come this far with me, purely out of loyalty and out of respect. And I thank you for that.” His gaze locked on Sims. “Now I ask you to do as I say.”
The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Sims looked away.
“Yes, sir,” he muttered.
“Thank you,” Bishop said. He walked out.
No one spoke. They all looked at one another. Melissa was the first one to speak.
“You’re not really going to let him go alone, are you?”
“What do you think?” Sims said.
“I think you plan to disobey orders.”
He looked around at Lanier and Felix. “Funny,” he said. “I don’t recall hearing the word ‘order’, do you, gentlemen?”
They shook their heads. Neither one looked happy about it.
“Me neither. So, I say we make sure Mr. Campbell doesn’t try anything funny. We don’t need to stay right on him, just cover the entrances and exits to the meeting spot. You got any problem with that, Agent Saxon?”
She shook her head. “No. And I want to help.”
“Outstanding,” Sims said. “Agent Collette?”
“Dave,” Melissa said. “You don’t have to…”
“If my partner’s in,” he said, “I am, too.”
Sims nodded in apparent satisfaction. “I figured as much.” He stood up and extended a hand to Melissa. She was puzzled, but took the hand and shook it. Sims did the same with an equally bemused Collette.
“Agent Saxon, Agent Collette,” he said. “Welcome to Iron Horse.”
