The 5th Horseman

Chapter 92

JACOBI WAS ON A HIGH just thinking about Louie folding into a big, wet heap — feeling fantastic that he’d been on the team that had brought that psycho down. Both psychos.

Now, at 8:00 p.m., he was still working, trying to nail another sicko to the wall.

Maybe a worse one. Possibly the most dangerous killer ever in San Francisco.

He steered the unmarked police car north along Leavenworth, keeping track of Dennis Garza’s black Mercedes sports coupe two cars ahead. The fog swirled up eerily from the pavement even as rain pelted down.

He braked for the red light at Clay, stared at the red-haloed taillights, thinking how Garza seemed to have a pretty damned good life for himself.

So why would he want to screw himself by playing God at the hospital?

As the oncoming traffic lit the interior of the car in front of him, Jacobi was startled to recognize Yuki Castellano driving the Acura that was between him and the Mercedes. What the hell?

Traffic rolled forward, and Jacobi accelerated, keeping both cars in view, his surprise growing into certainty as the Acura followed the Mercedes through every turn. Jacobi considered his two options. Then he flicked on the siren and the grille lights, turning the gray Crown Vic into something that looked and sounded like a demon from hell.

Ahead of him, the young lawyer glanced into her rearview mirror, pulled her car over to the curb.

Jacobi slid the Vic in behind her, called Dispatch, asked for an unmarked car to pick up the surveillance. He read out the Mercedes’ plate number and signed off. Pulled up the collar of his tweed jacket and got out of his car.

He walked up and stooped to the height of the Acura’s passenger window, flashed his light into Yuki’s eyes.

“May I see your driver’s license?” he said.

“Okay, okay, Officer. I have it here. What was I doing wrong?”

“Your license, please.”

“Sure,” Yuki said, shielding her eyes from the light.

She turned away, rooting in her handbag, spilling credit cards and change out of her wallet. She seemed very nervous, not herself at all. She finally located her license and handed it over.

Jacobi took the license to his car. Ran it through the computer, giving her time to think. Then he walked back through the hard, slanting rain and asked Yuki to get out of her car.

“You want me to get out of my car?”

“That’s right. Get out and put your hands on the hood. Mind if I take a look inside here? Anything you want to tell me about? A weapon? Any illegal substances?”

“Warren? Is that you? It’s me, Yuki. What’s this about?”

“That’s what I want to know.”

Yuki was getting soaked, her hair falling over her eyes, making her look like a wet Yorkie. She was wearing sweatpants, a thin T-shirt, beaded bedroom slippers, no socks. Her teeth were chattering.

Jacobi flashed his light briefly around the interior of the Acura, then told Yuki, “Okay, you can get back in.”

He watched her buckle up, handed her back her license, and said, “I’ve been behind you for quite a while, Yuki. What the hell were you doing?”

“You were following me?”

“Please answer my question.”

“I was just going for a drive, okay?” she said, getting pissed off now.

“Don’t lie to me. You were following that Mercedes.”

“No — okay. But so what? I’m just, I’m just — it’s nothing!”

“Think about what you’re saying,” he said, raising his voice, wanting to shake her up, wanting to scare her a little.

“If that guy is the whackjob you believe he is, don’t you think he’s going to get you out of his way? C’mon, Yuki, think.”

He watched Yuki make fish lips, coming up with nothing.

“I’m not being a prick here because it gives me a thrill. You’re a nice person and way too smart for this. You’re looking for trouble, and I hope to God you don’t find it.”

Yuki wiped the water off her face with her hands, nodded her head. “Do you have to tell Lindsay?”

“That depends on you.”

“I’ll go home, Warren. I won’t even stop for gas. How’s that sound?”

“That’s fine. By the way, your inspection sticker has expired. Take care of that.”

“Thank you, Warren.”

“Okay. Drive safe. Be good.”

Jacobi walked back to his car, thinking about the job. He had a wistful thought about stopping for a hot meal at the diner near his apartment. Then home for a nightcap and the 49ers game.

He heard the radio sputtering his call numbers as he opened the car door.