Firebreak

6

The second lawman was also in jeans and flannel shirt and boots. This one, Bert Hayes from Washington, was a sandy-haired, short, angry-looking man in his mid-forties who came through the doorway on the right with his hands held out in front of himself, arms spread wide and palms forward, not as though he were surrendering or showing himself without weapons but as though he were making a point in an ongoing argument: You see? You understand now? What he said, in a raspy aggravated voice, was, 'There isn't one fucking thing you people are going to accomplish around here."

Parker stepped back, to cover them both with the Remington. With a look at Elkins and a nod toward the lawmen, he said, "De-fang."

"Right."

Elkins went in a half-circle, to get around Moxon and

Hayes without being in the line of fire from either Wiss or Parker. Putting his own .38 away, he patted down first Moxon, finding a small hip-holster pistol, and then Hayes, bringing out another small pistol, this one from an ankle holster. 'That's all."

Parker said, "No cuffs?"

"No." Elkins shrugged. "There's closets."

Moxon, sounding surprisingly mild beside the glowering Hayes, said, 'You're the people who broke in last time."

Grinning, Elkins said, "Naw. We just saw your light."

'The thing is," Moxon said, "there's a hidden room in this place somewhere, and we've been going nuts trying to find it."

'Three rooms," Wiss said.

Both lawmen were surprised at that. 'There can't be," Hayes said. 'That's like hiding a tank in your backyard."

Moxon said, "I'm beginning to think you people've been keeping tabs on us."

Parker wanted to get this thing moving. He said, "What's your point?"

'You'll lock us in a room or tie us up or whatever," Moxon said. "I don't think you'll kill a peace officer if you don't have to, and you won't have to, and you figure those moustaches and glasses can confuse identification just enough, so we'll cooperate. If we see a chance in our favor, naturally, we'll take it."

"Fucking A," Hayes said.

Wiss said, 'That's all we'd expect. You take care of yourselves, we take care of ourselves, nobody gets hurt."

"All I ask," Moxon said, "is to know where the hidey-hole is."

Elkins laughed. "It really got to you," he said.

Wiss said, 'That's okay. Somewhere down there is where we'd stash you anyway." Looking at Parker, seeing his impatience, he said, "It's okay. It keeps everybody calm, and it moves us along. We're going down there anyway."

'Then let's go."

Moxon and Hayes looked at Elkins, who said, "We come in last time from the other side. There's a hall off a big dining room, with a flight of stairs down to the basement."

"We've been down there a lot," Moxon said.

Elkins said, "Well, we'll go again. You first, then me, then Bert, then my friends."

Moxon nodded, and they trooped through the house, all white and pale green and gold, more Versailles than hunting lodge, and down the broad wood stairs to the carpeted main room of the basement, where the empty wooden cartons to transport the paintings leaned in a row against the wall. Open doorways to left and right showed storage rooms full of magpie keepings. Soft fluorescent ceiling lights gave an even greenish gold illumination.

When they were all down the stairs, Elkins said to Moxon, "Come on over here. Stand right there. Look at the carpet. Along there."

Moxon, not knowing what he was supposed to be looking at, stood where Elkins had put him and frowned at the floor. He switched his frown to Elkins, who only grinned at him and raised an eyebrow, and then he frowned at the floor again, until all at once his eyes widened and he said, "Son of a bitch!"

"Roy?" Hayes said. "What is it?"

Moxon said to Elkins, "Can he have a look?"

"Sure," Elkins said. "It's a bonus prize."

Parker wanted to get moving here, but he knew what Elkins was doing, and why. Keep the customer calm, keep him from feeling desperate, from feeling he has to find a way out of this. It would pay off later, but it was an irritation now.

Hayes moved over to stand where Moxon had been, with Moxon now just to his left, but no matter how long Hayes glared at the floor he didn't see what the others were talking about until Moxon gently said, "Bert, look at the nap of the carpet. Look at the line."

"Well, Jesus Christ," Hayes said, seeing it at last. "It's a goddam Indian trail!" He looked at the blank wall where the trail stopped. 'That's supposed to be mountain back there," he said. "Solid rock."

"It's solid, all right," Elkins said, and in Parker's ear Lloyd's tinny voice said, "We got trouble."

Parker and Elkins and Wiss all got very alert. Parker said, "What trouble?"

Moxon and Hayes looked at him, not getting it, while Lloyd said, 'There's an FBI man in Dallas has to talk to Hayes."

"Dallas," Elkins said. "Griffith."

The lawmen turned now to look at Elkins.

Lloyd said, "I've been deflecting him, trouble on the line, but it won't work much longer. Anything else I can deal with, but not a phone call."

Parker said to Elkins, "Speakerphone."

Elkins shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

Parker turned to Moxon and Hayes. 'You'll know," he said. "And this is your chance to keep yourself alive."

'There's an office by the front door," Moxon said, "has a speakerphone."

"I remember that room," Wiss said.

Parker said, 'That's where we go."

The five trooped upstairs, in the same order as before, and turned toward the front of the house, as Lloyd's voice sounded in Parker's ear, now with a trace of panic: 'This guy's talking about sending state troopers from Havre. I've really got to let him through."

'Two minutes," Parker told him. "Can you change your voice? Be your own supervisor."

"Oh, God, I don't know," Lloyd said. "Let me see what I can do."

The five walked through the ground floor of the sprawling house, coming at last to a good-sized office with copier and computer and wall maps of the area and a large partner's desk with a green felt inlaid top and antique swivel chairs on both sides, and the phone. They all crowded in, and Parker said to Elkins, 'Take Roy into the hall, sit him on the floor where we can see him. If you hear one wrong word from Bert, shoot off

his basket" Turning, he said, "Bert, move that chair back from the desk, middle of the room. When the phone rings, answer it, put it on speaker then, come sit down in the chair."

"Who's calling me?" Hayes asked, as Elkins positioned Moxon outside the door.

"He'll tell you," Parker said, and told Lloyd, "We're ready."

Lloyd must have been busy with the call from Dallas, because he didn't answer, but less than a minute later the phone chirped. With an eye on Parker, Hayes picked up the receiver, said, "Hayes," then, "Hold on, let me put you on the speaker."

He pushed that button, hung up, and stepped back toward the desk chair in the middle of the room as a metallic voice filled the space: T think we may be buying a break at last in this thing."

Hayes rubbed his forehead. He seemed uncertain what to do. From where he sat, he could see the phone, he could see Moxon seated on the floor in the front hall and Elkins holding the Remington on him, and he could see Wiss and Parker both pointing pistols at his own head.

The metallic voice said, "You there?"

Hayes sighed. "Sorry," he said. "You were agent— agent—"

"Catlett. You still having phone trouble there?"

"Uhh ... We been having phone trouble?"

"I've been trying to reach you people fifteen, twenty minutes."

"I had no idea."

"Well, here's the thing. The antique dealer Griffith, that you had up your way for a while?"

"Yeah?"

"He's on his way to Austin right now, with his lawyer, to make a statement."

Hayes made a what-now shrug toward Moxon and said, "What kind of statement?"

Agent Cadett said, "His lawyer contacted the federal prosecutor in Dallas this morning, floated the idea of Griffith flipping. He'll give us Marino, who it looks like has been doing a lot of stuff he shouldn't, if there's no jail time in it for Griffith."

Hayes said, "Can they make that deal?"

"Nobody knows yet," Cadett said, "but nobody really needs to lean on Griffith, he's just the errand boy, so it should be able to work. And it looks like it would include the whereabouts of Marino's stash up there, that room nobody can find."

Hayes and Moxon exchanged a look. 'That's great news," Hayes said, but he didn't sound sincere.

Cadett apparently didn't hear the hollowness in Hayes's answer. He said, "We're anticipating the deal with Griffith will work out. We've already asked the Italian police to hold on to Marino, and we've got evidence people on the way to you right now from Helena, should be there by two this afternoon."

Three hours.

Hayes said, "Looking forward to them. Who's in charge?"

"Inspector Winnick. One of yours, from ATF."

"I know Winnick," Hayes said. "Be happy to see him."

"In the meantime," Catlett said, "the bureau thinks it's best you make contact with the state police in Havre, ask them to send some people up, secure the area."

Parker pointed at Hayes, and shook his head.

Hayes said, "Is that really necessary? Inspector Moxon and I pretty well have the place under control."

"It's no reflection on you," Catlett assured him. "Sog just wants to nail it down, now that we've got Griffith turning."

With a helpless shrug toward Parker, Hayes said, "Well, if that's the decision."

"A state CID man named Elwood is in Havre now," Catlett said, "waiting for your call."

'Then I'd better call him," Hayes said. 'Thanks for the heads-up."

"My pleasure," Catlett said.

Parker stepped forward and hit the button to end the call. They all looked at one another.

Moxon said, "I'm sorry, friends, but your parade has been cancelled."