The Forgotten Holocaust

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Portraits of the current Pope, JFK and Robert Kennedy smiled down upon Finn McCrory as he sat at his desk in the air-conditioned cool of the mayor’s office. Some of Finn’s Republican peers had been known to frown at the presence of such iconic Democrats hanging on his wall, but despite his party affiliation Finn remained staunchly loyal to the Kennedy name for what it meant to Irish-Americans.

Finn was reclining in his huge green chair with his boots up on the desk and the door locked. It was only at this time of the afternoon, when Janet and the rest of the staff had gone for the day, that he could make certain phone calls to certain people without having to hide in the bathroom or go out to sit in his car. Right now he was speaking with Xavier, one of his business contacts in Nuevo Laredo. Xavier sounded like he was standing out in the desert or somewhere, because the wind was crackling his phone’s mike. Xavier had a thing about being listened in on, too — which, given the nature of their business, wasn’t surprising.

No names were ever mentioned in their conversations. Specifics were referred to in the most oblique and vague way possible, so that even if anyone had been listening in, they wouldn’t have understood what the hell the men were talking about. The call had been going on for over twenty minutes, because they had a lot to discuss about the shipment due to head south next week. It was a big one and both ends wanted it to go perfectly. Which Finn was confident it would, now that Blaylock had been taken out of the picture.

‘Just a slight glitch in the system,’ he told Xavier.

‘Let’s hope it’s cleaned up now, huh?’ Xavier said.

‘Cleaner than clean. I don’t think we’ll have any more problems this end,’ Finn said, smiling. ‘Everything’s looking good.’

Three rapid knocks at his office door interrupted what he was about to say next. He looked up from his call to see the door handle turning. Who the hell was that? One of the cleaners trying to get in, probably.

‘So I’ll be at the station as planned,’ Xavier was saying. ‘I expect the train will be on schedule.’

‘It’s always been a reliable service,’ Finn replied.

‘Tickets are getting kind of expensive lately.’

‘But the passengers arrive right on time and everybody’s happy, huh?’

Thump, thump.

Finn looked irritably over at the door. The handle was turning again. Hadn’t that damned fool of a cleaner figured out it was locked for a reason?

‘Later,’ he said to Xavier, and ended the call. The knocking was getting louder and more insistent. Finn strode to the door, unlocked it and wrenched it open, ready to yell at the stupid cleaner.

But it wasn’t the cleaner.

‘What in the name of—?’ he demanded, staring at Ritter and Moon, who were standing in the doorway. In a panic, he peered past them in case anyone might have seen them. Luckily, the place was deserted. ‘Get in here,’ he grated, lowering his voice. ‘I thought I told you never, ever to show your damn faces here.’ He ushered them quickly into the office, shut the door after them and locked it again.

‘You’ve been on the line the last half hour solid, boss,’ Ritter said. ‘We needed to talk to you. Something’s up.’

‘What in hell could be so important that you had to come to my office? Have you lost your minds?’

‘Spicer’s been shot.’

‘He’s what?’

‘The Hayes bitch shot him,’ Moon filled in, smacking gum and breathing mint.

Finn was stupefied. ‘Is he dead?’

‘He won’t be trippin’ the light fantastic any more, that’s for sure,’ Moon said.

Finn shook his head. ‘Damn it, Ritter, you told me he was reliable.’

‘Yeah, well, a nine-mil Springfield auto’s pretty reliable too,’ Ritter said. ‘He took one in the leg. Blew a hole the size of Kansas above the knee, near enough took it off. She must’ve been using hollowpoints. Black Talons or something, I guess.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Finn exploded. ‘It was a simple job. How can you screw that up?’

‘Take it easy, boss,’ Moon said. ‘It’s under control. No cops involved.’

‘It’s not the cops I’m worried about, you imbecile,’ Finn ranted at him. ‘How’d you figure I knew about the video in the first place?’ He turned back to Ritter. ‘She’s one woman. She’s not the US fuckin’ Marines. I thought you said Spicer took a partner along.’

‘Jesse Zimbert,’ Ritter said, nodding.

‘So what happened to him, she shoot him as well?’ Finn demanded.

‘He was outside in the car,’ Ritter admitted, looking down at his feet. ‘Plan was to stay hidden until Spicer came out, then move the car up close to the door and get her in the trunk. Instead, Zimbert’s waiting in the car when he sees the Hayes woman run out of the house and take off.’

‘His buddy gets half his leg blown off just a few yards away and he doesn’t even hear the shot? Is the guy stone deaf or what?’

‘Says he was listening to music,’ Ritter replied, shamefaced.

‘Music!?’

Ritter flushed deeper red. ‘He’s into Hideously Mutilated. That’s a band. Goes around with earphones on. I guess he must have been wearing them when Spicer was inside the house.’

‘You ever see him wearing them again, you put a bullet in his brain,’ Finn raged. ‘That’s an order. No, in fact you put a bullet in his brain anyway. Now you’re going to tell me he lost the bitch and we’ve no way of knowing where she is?’

Ritter could give a more positive answer this time. ‘He went in the house, found Spicer halfway down the stairs, bleeding all over the place with his damn leg hanging off. Spicer told him what happened. Then Zimbert got back in his car and took off after her. Caught up with her Honda on the expressway. Meanwhile, he called in some more guys to take care of Spicer.’

‘Spicer can live or die,’ Finn said. ‘It’s her I’m interested in. Where’d she go?’

‘Said she was heading for the zoo. That’s the last I spoke to him. We tried calling you. Your line was busy. We came here.’

‘The zoo,’ Finn snorted. ‘We sure about that?’

‘That’s what he said.’

‘What’s she gonna do, hang out with the monkeys?’

Moon tittered. Finn was going to tell him to shut up when his phone rang. It was O’Rourke.

‘Guess who just called me,’ the police chief said. ‘Sounded all shook up. Says someone tried to pull a number on her. Was it your boys?’

‘I don’t know anything about that,’ Finn replied, which meant yes. ‘We have a present location?’

‘City zoo,’ O’Rourke said. ‘I have people on their way. Awaiting further instructions. What you want me to do?’

‘No damage,’ Finn said. ‘I don’t want her harmed, not yet. Bring her to me. Usual place.’ He slipped the phone back into his pocket, smiling. Things were under control again. The noose was retightening. Their little friend Erin Hayes was giving them the runaround but there was no way she was getting out of it this time.

Suddenly it was Ritter’s phone ringing. ‘Zimbert,’ he said, fishing it out and looking at the caller ID. He put it to his ear, listened without expression, said nothing for thirty seconds. ‘Okay. Keep me informed.’ He ended the call and turned to Finn.

‘Okay, she just left the zoo,’ he told his boss.

‘With the cops?’ Finn asked.

Ritter shook his head. ‘Alone.’

‘Shit,’ Finn muttered. They must have just missed her. ‘So we’re depending on this idiot Zimbert not to lose her?’

‘We won’t lose her. While she was inside, he found her car in the parking lot and put a GPS tracker under the wheel arch. She’s heading south. He’s on her tail. Just picked up a couple more guys for backup. Still want me to put one in his head?’

‘I want you to get the hell after her, is what I want,’ Finn yelled, pointing at the door. ‘Bring the bitch back to me alive and talking. Got it? Now move your asses. And don’t ever come back here.’

Ritter and Moon hurried out of the building. As they ran to the van, Ritter called Zimbert back. ‘On our way. Keep your distance and no moves until we get there. Read me?’

‘I can’t wait to get my hands on this bitch,’ Moon said, leaping in behind the wheel. ‘Sweet, sweet. Come to Daddy.’ He fired up the GMC’s engine and hit the gas hard. The van pulled a tight U-turn in front of the building and squealed out into the traffic.

As they sped up the street, both Ritter and Moon were too intently focused on catching up with their target to notice the grey Jeep Patriot that pulled away from the kerb a little distance up the street, slotted into the steady flow and fell quietly in line behind them, three cars back.