Cold Vengeance

CHAPTER 76

JUST A MOMENT,” ESTERHAZY SAID.

Falkoner paused. “What?”

Esterhazy quickly stepped over to Falkoner and leaned in to his ear. “There’s something I neglected to tell you,” he murmured. “Something you must know. It’s very important.”

“Damn it, I’m in the middle of this.”

“Step over to the rail. They mustn’t hear. I’m telling you, it’s of the utmost importance.”

“This is a hell of a time to be interrupting my work!” Falkoner muttered, the smile of sadistic pleasure giving way to a scowl of frustration.

Esterhazy led Falkoner over to the port rail and walked him slightly aft. He glanced up: the view from both the bridge and the foredeck was blocked.

“What’s the problem?” Falkoner demanded.

Esterhazy leaned over to whisper in his ear, placing a hand on his shoulder. As they drew together, heads bowed, Esterhazy brought his pistol up and fired a bullet into the German’s cranium. A cloud of blood, gore, and bits of bone jetted out the far side, the blowback spraying Esterhazy directly in the face.

Falkoner jerked forward, eyes wide and astonished, and he fell into Esterhazy’s arms. Esterhazy grasped him by the shoulders and, with a brusque movement, heaved the body up onto the rail and tipped it over.

At the report of the gun, Zimmermann came tearing around the corner. Esterhazy shot him between the eyes.

“Schultz!” he cried out. “Help us!”

A moment later Schultz appeared, gun in hand, and Esterhazy shot him as well.

Then Esterhazy backed away, sputtering and spitting, wiping his face clean with a handkerchief and returning to the small group, pistol drawn. Gerta stood there, staring at him, paralyzed.

“Walk over here,” he told her. “Slow and easy. Or you’re dead, too.”

She obeyed. As she reached the edge of the cabin he grabbed her and, with the same tape used to tie Pendergast, bound her ankles, wrists, and mouth. He left her on the walkway where she wasn’t visible from the bridge, then strode back to the aft deck, where Hammar was slowly regaining consciousness, groaning and muttering. Esterhazy bound him securely. He made a quick tour of the upper decks, found the wounded Eberstark, and bound him as well. Then he walked forward again to where Pendergast and Constance were restrained.

He looked at the pair. Both had witnessed what he’d done. Constance was silent, but he could see blood dripping from her injured finger. He knelt, examined it. The second, deeper cut went to the bone but not through it. He fumbled in his pocket, brought out a clean handkerchief, and bound the finger. Then he stood up and faced Pendergast. The silvery eyes glittered back. Esterhazy thought he could detect — barely — lingering surprise.

“You once asked me how I could kill my own sister,” Esterhazy said. “I told you the truth then. And I’ll tell you the truth again now. I didn’t kill her. Helen’s alive.”