Mortal Pursuit

20

In the den Cain kicked his duffel bag behind an armchair, out of his way, then released a hinged section of oak paneling to expose a wall safe with a combination lock.

“Open it,” he told Ally.

The girl hugged herself, arms crossed high on her chest, as if conscious that her white dress was dangerously revealing. “Nothing’s in there except stock certificates. I don’t think you can fence those.”

“Open it anyway.”

“I don’t know the combination.”

He studied her in the spill of light from a green-shaded brass banker’s lamp. Her hair was teased into ringlets of dark curls. Freckles splashed her round face. Still a child’s face-but the tanned, supple legs below her hemline were the legs of a woman.

“Yes, you do,” he said evenly. “I saw you open this safe last Saturday night. Only you didn’t take out any stock certificates. You took out a string of pearls. They looked pretty on you.”

There was something comical in the way her brown eyes widened and kept on widening in a caricature of surprise.

“You … saw…”

“I’ve watched this house on and off for weeks. With these.” He showed her the binoculars. “You people never close your curtains. I guess having no neighbors makes you sort of careless.”

“Oh, God …”

“What did you want the pearls for, anyway”

She responded mechanically, her thoughts still focused on her shattered illusion of privacy. “Some charity thing. My mom’s on the board. We had to go to the dinner.” Then her eyes cleared as a question occurred to her. “How come you didn’t just break in and rip us off while we were out”

Smart girl, but he had a ready answer. “Because I needed to know the combination. And because I wanted to spend time with you. Ally.”

“M-me” A stammer broke the word in half.

“You interest me. I’ve watched you at other times. I went around to the woods out back, scoped you out through the fence. You don’t close your bedroom curtains either.”

Mingled outrage and embarrassment flushed the girl’s face.

“Sometimes,” Cain added, “you walk around naked, right in front of the windows. You put on a hell of a show.”

Her knees shook. She reached out to grasp a table for support, and a Tiffany’s catalogue, robin’s-egg blue, slapped to the floor. “No …”

“Hey, don’t blame me for peeking. Couldn’t help myself. You’re hot, sweetheart. That tight little ass, and those nice firm titties-“

“Stop.”

“I’ll bet you let your boyfriend talk about your tits. Touch ‘em, too.”

“I … I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Well, you should. Ally. You really should.”

She blinked back tears, catching the obvious implication.

Cain slid a gloved hand into his side pocket and fingered Wald’s handcuffs.

It would be so easy. Wouldn’t take long at all.

But he was playing for bigger stakes tonight. He couldn’t afford to be sidetracked.

His hand withdrew from his pocket, leaving the cuffs within.

“Open the safe.”

He watched as Ally rotated the dial. The combination was 4-15-54.

“That number mean anything” he asked.

She wouldn’t look at him. “It’s my mom’s date of birth.”

“Your mom looks younger than forty-three.”

“Did you watch her get naked, too”

“You’re more my type.” Cain smiled, amused by her bravado. She reminded him of the rookie cop-young and scared and trying desperately not to show it. “Now clean out whatever’s inside.”

“How do you know my dad doesn’t keep a gun in there”

“Maybe he does.”

“Then how do you know I won’t grab it and shoot you”

“You’ve got better manners than that.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

She reached in and began piling jewelry and coins and bars of bullion on a rosewood table. Cain paid less attention to the loot than to the sleek, rippling muscles of her arms. There was still some baby fat on her, but a lean, mature young woman was emerging fast.

She dug deeper. The safe seemed bottomless, a cornucopia of wealth. Cain saw stacked Krugerrands taped together, kilogram bricks of silver with Credit Suisse certificates attached, handcrafted pendants and bracelets and earrings that must be Ashcroft family heirlooms.

“You were right.” His voice was very low. “Nothing but stock certificates.”

The girl bit her trembling lip.

“It’s not smart to lie to me. Ally. That bitch cop lied too. Played games on the radio. Now she’s dead.”

The last word wrenched Ally’s head sideways. “You killed her”

“Bad things happen to liars.”

Tears muddied her eyes. “But … but she was unconscious, that’s all. She was still breathing.”

“Not anymore. My associates put her in the lake.”

“The lake” The girl stared at her trembling hands. “I-I go swimming there. Go swimming.”

The words, soft and toneless, were spoken only to herself.

“Well, next time you take a dip”-Cain smiled through his mask-“you can say hello to Officer Robinson. And give her my regards.”

Ally resumed emptying the safe, weeping without sound, and Cain watched her, wondering why she would mourn for a woman she had never known.