Upside Down

101

After Winter talked to Faith Ann over the telephone, she had given the negatives to Larry Bond, Manseur's partner, who delivered them to the photo lab and left two men he trusted to watch over the drying and printing of the negatives. Winter told Faith Ann he'd meet her at the hospital emergency room, where she was going to be taken for a medical check-over. He called Sean and told his wife as much as he could, promising to fill her in when she and Rush arrived in New Orleans the next morning.

He waited anxiously in the cruiser while Manseur stood outside talking on the phone to his people. Then Manseur joined Winter and pulled into the traffic, heading for Charity Hospital. Winter couldn't wipe the smile off his face. But Manseur was frowning.

“Something's bothering my astute associates,” the detective said.

“What's that?” Winter asked.

“Adams got this serious, life-threatening concussion. Nicky Green told them Adams hit his head on a shelf in the wheelhouse, that as far as he knows he later collapsed on the deck downstairs from it.”

“So?”

“The pilot confirmed Adams did hit his head and was wounded in the initial fray, but he claims Adams was fine when he left the wheelhouse. The pilot swears that Nicky Green, not Agent Adams, killed Arturo Estrada with his own knife. Adams was found unconscious just outside the staircase door. But the medical people say the side of his head was literally caved in, which made it impossible that he remained conscious after the blow. There was indeed a cut where the pilot said Adams hit his head, but it was the other side of his skull that was shattered.”

Winter raised his brows noncommittally. He was going to have to let Manseur in on some things, but he wasn't sure it was going to have the desired effect of having the cop go against his instincts, training, and the nature of his occupation.

“And the copilot said he saw Nicky Green hit Adams with his cane. Said Adams was aiming his gun at Green's head at the time. He claims you saw it, too.”

“That's true,” Winter admitted. “I did.”

“Uh-huh. An FBI agent tries to shoot somebody in cold blood. I find that strange, and very troubling. Needs some serious explaining. Attempted murder is serious. I'm going to have to find out why Adams tried to kill Green.”

“You would be best served if you just forget it,” Winter said.

“I don't see that happening,” Manseur said, incredulous. “Tell me why I would even consider it.”

Winter said, “You know how it is with icebergs. Only the tip shows. The majority of it is lying underwater, waiting.”

“I saw Titanic, ” Manseur said, irritated.

“Look, Michael, this is the best advice I have ever given anybody. You can take it or not. You are looking at the tip of one major, ugly iceberg. Let the FBI handle the Adams end. You thought he was what he claimed. Period. Who knows what a terrified pilot or copilot think they saw. If the Bureau asks for your help in clearing things up, want you to dig around and make a stink, do it, but if they don't-and they won't-leave it lie. I give you my word that Nicky acted in self-defense. That's all there is to it.”

“If that's true, FBI agent or not, there'll be state charges. Adams tried to kill Green. And you saw it.”

Winter exhaled loudly. “Okay, Michael. Adams isn't an FBI agent. I don't know who he really is, but I know what. The Feds'll take over the investigation and you'll never hear another word. If you get too curious, your superiors will discourage you from looking into it.”

“I won't sit still for that.”

“I said it was advice. Go after this case, and for the rest of your life you'll wish to God you had listened.”

“What's going on here, Massey?”

Winter thought about what he should say. He remained silent until Manseur parked the car outside the emergency room, where scores of cops still waited, silent and grim-faced. Winter remembered that a transit cop had been killed and understood the vigil.

“Adams is a professional killer sent to kill me,” he told Manseur. “My best guess is that he's a man named Paulus Styer, a German hit man. I believe Styer ran down Hank and Millie as part of a plan to get to me, but you'll never hang Millie's death on him, because there's nothing to prove it but what he told me and Nicky. I won't admit it to anyone else, and I'll deny I said even this much to you. Neither Nicky or I will ever admit we didn't believe Adams was FBI, and if you like your life the way it is, neither will you.”

“Why?”

“Because you have only seen the tip of this berg, and the base is a world of ruthless killers and people who would not hesitate to do whatever it takes to stay undiscovered.”

“Arturo Estrada killed Kimberly Porter and Amber Lee for Jerry Bennett. What does that have to do with Adams-or the Trammels?”

“Adams said it was a coincidence, and I believe him.”

“I don't believe in that kind of coincidence.”

“Neither would I… normally.”

“Who was the corpse in the Rover?”

“An accomplice-some loose end. Adams didn't care if it was found because he needed only a few days-had no reason to imagine you'd solve it before he was done and gone. I doubt the corpse's identity will lead to him.”

Winter shouldn't have told Manseur what he had, but he had to warn him off. Winter knew better than anybody alive that the people in Adams's sphere had few rules, didn't want to be found out, didn't give warnings, and never left any loose ends. If Adams wasn't Paulus Styer-a target of the cutouts-he was almost certainly a cutout himself. Why Adams decided to kill Nicky was a mystery, but maybe he was making his move on Winter and didn't want Nicky in his way. So, if Adams was Styer, the cutouts would deal with him. If he was a cutout, they would cover for him. Winter couldn't afford to care, especially when the differences didn't matter.

Winter finally said, “What happened to Hank and Millie was about year-old business between me and the person who sent Adams, or Styer, after me.”

“How do I leave Mrs. Trammel's murder unsolved?”

“Say Arturo and Marta did it. It'll stick. Look, Michael, I blundered into Adams's world and it's still costing me. I've got a life to get back to. My wife is going to have a baby. You have your family to think of. Let all of this bury itself.”

“But if someone sent Styer after you, why won't they send someone else?”

Winter saw flashing lights, and an ambulance rolled past the cruiser and up the ramp to the doors of the emergency room.

“That's probably my date,” Winter said. “See you around, Michael Manseur.”

When she saw Winter running up the ramp, Faith Ann dropped the blanket and launched herself into his open arms.

“God,” he said, “I thought you drowned.”

“Well, I almost did. When I came up, I saw her getting pulled up into that police boat.”

“You should have yelled. I was there.”

“I didn't see you.”

“I was underwater looking for you. Why didn't you holler at the boat?”

She looked up at Winter with disbelief in her eyes. “How could I know if they were good or bad policemen in the boat? They were helping her. I swam to a dock ladder and it wasn't easy. I didn't see you. I didn't know what the police would do, so I told the reporters who I was, about what happened, and I showed the pictures to the TV so the bad police couldn't steal them. Is Mr. Pond all right now?” she asked anxiously.

“He sure is,” Winter said. “Thanks to you.”

“That's good.” She smiled. “So do you think we could go see Uncle Hank and then maybe go get something to eat?”

“Anything you want, kiddo. Anything at all.”

Manseur came running up to Winter.

Winter introduced Faith Ann to him.

“We got Jerry Bennett,” Manseur told him. “He was at his lake place, dragging Suggs to his boat for disposal. I have to go to H.Q. for the interview. We'll get your and Nicky's official statements tomorrow. I'll do it personally.”

“You can do that?”

“Sure I can. This is New Orleans, remember?”

“The back-scratching capital of America,” Winter said.