The Last Witness Read online

  Billy grinned, removed the hypodermic from Angel’s vein, and yanked off the rubber, a dribble of blood flowing. “Shavik won’t like that.”

  “He’s in no position to like anything after the mistake he’s made with her.”

  The door burst open and Shavik strode in.

  Arkov grinned. “Speak of the devil. Your timing’s perfect.”

  “Get on with it.”

  Arkov pinched Angel’s face in his hand. “Wake up, it’s quiz time.”

  Her eyes fluttered, and she looked barely conscious.

  Arkov grabbed a fistful of hair and shook her head violently. “I said wake up!”

  Angel’s eyes snapped open.

  Arkov grinned, leaned in close to her face. “So, you’re back with the living again. What have you got to say for yourself?”

  She seemed to come awake then, her senses alert, and she scowled at Arkov as if she was going to spit at him again.

  “You cow—”

  Arkov drew back his fist but Shavik grabbed it in midair and said, “No. A broken jaw won’t help her talk.”

  Arkov yanked his arm free. “You think you know better, Mila, but you’re wrong. We need to go harder on her, not softer.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Did you check her cell phone?”

  “I’m about to.”

  “Scroll through her contacts, texts made and received, and all the call lists if they haven’t been erased. Make a note of any texts or numbers of interest. Pay attention to the time just before she met the Lane woman in Newark.”

  “I’m not dumb, Mila. I know what to do.”

  “Then get it done.” Shavik knelt in front of Angel, and her head slumped again. She looked in a stupor, as if she couldn’t focus, the drug kicking in.

  “Listen to me, Angel. Tell me who you’re working for. Tell me that and no one lays another finger on you. I give you my word.”

  She moaned, a low moan that almost sounded like she wanted to throw up. Shavik let go of her face and she vomited, spraying her clothes, spewing across the floor. Her head flopped to one side again like a rag doll, and she moaned again, in a stupor.

  Arkov grimaced. “Terrific.”

  Shavik examined the discarded hypodermic. “How much did you give her?”

  “Ten cc’s total. It can take longer to work on some than others.”

  “For a woman? You want to kill her?”

  “Eventually.”

  “Are you completely stupid?”

  Arkov flushed. “You don’t talk to me like that, Mila. You’ll show me respect.”

  “When you deserve it. At this rate, that may be never.”

  Billy grinned, enjoying the confrontation.

  Arkov skewered him with a stare. “What do you find so funny?”

  “Funny? Nothing.”

  Shavik tossed aside the hypodermic. “It could be hours before we can get her to talk. Any more bright ideas, you two?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got one.” Arkov snapped his fingers. “Billy, I want you to get me something from the car.”

  • • •

  Josh wheeled his chair into a storeroom off the hall. Carla saw a big steel gray gun safe with an electronic keypad.

  In the middle of the door was a silver wheel lock.

  “It’s locked?”

  “Yeah. Dad’s real careful about leaving guns lying around.”

  “You know the combination?”

  “No, only my dad knows that.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope.”

  “Josh, I need that gun.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Carla.”

  “Josh, please listen to me. If there’s any way you know how to open this safe, I really need you to tell me now. I’m begging you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s important. Look at me, Josh.”

  “But . . . why do you need the gun right now?”

  “I need to be someplace and it may be dangerous. That’s why your dad’s been teaching me how to shoot.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “How about I call my dad?”

  “I don’t have that time. You’re a smart kid, Josh, but trust me, by the time he drives here from wherever he is it’ll be too late. I hate if it seems like I’m pushing you, I honestly do, but this is kind of an executive decision that’s all yours.”

  Josh sat there, uncertain, chewing his lower lip.

  “What is it, Josh?”

  “I . . . I think the code is in Regan’s bedroom.”

  “You think?”

  “I think it’s written on a piece of paper on top of her closet.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Pretty much. It’s where I can’t reach.”

  “Where’s Regan’s room?”

  He looked serious. “Miss Carla, will I get in trouble for this?”

  “Honest? I don’t know, Josh. But you can tell your dad I forced you. How’s that?”

  “You’ll back me up? Square it with my dad?”

  “Yes I will.”

  “Will he get angry?”

  “Maybe, but I figure he’ll understand. Where’s Regan’s room?”

  He pointed left, along the hall.

  Carla stepped in. A single closet right behind the door. She pulled up a chair, rummaged on top of the closet, and found a slip of paper with six digits followed by a hash symbol.

  Back in the hall, she punched the numbers and the pound key on the safe’s keypad. She turned the wheel lock and pulled open the heavy door.

  All the guns she’d used were inside.

  Boxes of ammo were stored on gray felt-covered shelves, the long guns upright, the handguns racked on wire pistol frames. At the bottom of the safe was a plastic tray full of gun cleaning kits, oils, and silicone cloths.

  She picked out the Sig with the threaded barrel, took three empty magazines, found the silencer on a shelf, and removed a box of 9mm cartridges.

  She remembered to take the silicone cloth to remove all prints from the gun and ammunition. She locked the safe again and replaced the slip of paper on top of the closet.

  “Thanks, Josh.”

  “When are you coming back, Miss Carla?”

  • • •

  Arkov flicked through the road atlas Billy brought from the car.

  “Where’s this place your guy followed her to?”

  “A marina in Union County, eastern Tennessee. He got on her flight, managed to stick a magnetic tracker bug on her car, and followed her there in a rental.”

  Shavik said, “What are you up to?”

  Arkov found Tennessee in the atlas, traced his finger on the page to Union County, then tossed the atlas on the table, a sly grin creasing his lips.

  “Making sure our witness is taken care of.”

  “And what’s so funny?” Shavik demanded.

  “I’ve got the perfect plan. Billy, you’re on the next plane to Knoxville.”

  “Yeah? What for?”

  Arkov patted his cheek. “Because you’re about to play the best role you’ve ever been offered.”

  • • •

  She drove north on Interstate 81 in the rented Ford.

  The GPS calculated a grueling seven-hundred-mile drive, through Virginia and Maryland to New Jersey. The estimated trip time was twelve hours. She guessed it could be longer with restroom stops and the drive-through for coffee and food, not that she felt remotely like eating.

  To reach New Jersey before midnight would be tight.

  Why hadn’t Angel contacted her? Had something happened? Or what if Ronnie was right and she was playing a double game?

  Her stomach fluttered, not with hunger or cramps, but from fear and tension.

  Her overnight case was in the trunk. The Sig, ammunition, and silencer were stashed under her driver’s seat. Along with the tactical flashlight, the shooter’s gloves, and the silicone cloth. She wore dark stretch pants, a dark navy top, black running shoes. Her navy
blue hoodie lay on the backseat, along with a black woolen hat.

  She had no plan, none at all, not even an idea of one.

  She racked her mind as she drove, trying to come up with a strategy, still terrified of coming face-to-face with Mila Shavik. She tried to focus but the same questions burned inside her head: Where’s Luka? What happened to him? Is he still alive?

  She tried Kelly’s number again. No answer, just voice mail.

  What remarkable information did Kelly discover?

  One hand caressed her stomach, dreading that her cramps might return.

  Over three hours later, she was drinking a cup of McDonald’s iced tea as she passed Marion, Virginia, racking her mind trying to come up with a plan.

  But nothing came.

  • • •

  At that precise moment Continental Flight 2334 from Newark was touching down at Knoxville’s Tyson Airport.

  Twenty minutes later, Billy Davix grabbed his bag from the luggage carousel. Using a false ID and credit card in the same name, he rented a Ford SUV complete with GPS from the Hertz desk.

  Packed in his luggage case were the clothes he needed, along with a .45 Kimber automatic and silencer. One of the Second Amendment benefits of American citizenship that Davix loved. You could still transport a personal firearm as luggage on U.S. aircraft and nobody gave a Bo Diddley.

  He’d stop at a Walmart on the way and buy some hollow-point ammo.

  He punched the address for the Kilgore Marina, Union County, into the GPS. Two minutes later he screeched out of the airport parking lot, heading northeast.

  It was 1:15 p.m. exactly.

  PART SIX

  69

  * * *

  CENTRAL PARK, NEW YORK

  Dr. Raymond Leon bit into his sandwich—a thickly filled pastrami on rye with mustard mayonnaise—and waved as he saw Baize totter down the path.

  She was smoking a cigarette and he saw the worried look on her face as she waved back. The doctor dabbed his mouth with a paper napkin as she joined him on the bench.

  “I appreciate you taking the time to meet, Raymond.”

  “Not a problem, I had an afternoon slot free. I thought you’d given up those herbal coffin nails?”

  Baize stubbed out her cigarette on a garbage bin. “Give me a break, Raymond. It’s been another one of those days.”

  He handed her a paper bag and a bottle of spring water. “This time I got you the Weight Watchers special, no butter, no mayo. Tuna, salad, no cheese, drizzled with light French dressing, in a freshly baked crusty roll.”

  “You’re spoiling me.”

  Baize laid the bag on the bench and looked out at the park.

  Joggers, lost-looking Asian tourists, herds of office and department store workers having lunch on the grass or park benches, milking the sunshine. A quartet practicing, Beethoven soft on the air.

  “You coping okay, Baize?”

  “It’s been a struggle. Sometimes I don’t know how I haven’t hung myself from a rafter.” She unscrewed the water bottle cap. “Want to tell me how it went?”

  Leon licked a dab of mustard mayonnaise from his fingers. “Baize, we’ve been family friends a long time.”

  “Thirty years.”

  “You know I can’t talk with you about Carla as my patient. Twenty years ago, sure, but now she’s all grown up. Now it’s doctor-patient confidentiality.”

  “You don’t think her case warrants a little extra consideration?”

  “Sure I do. But you want me to get disbarred? Have to move to some hick town out in the tranquilizer belt and start over?”

  “I’m not asking to see your every note and record, Raymond.”

  “Is it what we spoke about the other day in my office? About Carla seeing the remains of her mom and Luka? Because if it is, she hasn’t contacted me yet.”

  “No?”

  “No. But when she needs to talk, I’ll be there for her, Baize.”

  “The remains weren’t Luka’s.”

  “What?”

  “The DNA didn’t match.”

  “That . . . that’s wonderful news. Isn’t it, Baize?”

  “Carla believes Alma saw Luka in the hospital afterward. That he may have somehow survived. There’s a chance, but a slim one if I’m to be honest.”

  “Why?”

  “Dan and I tried everything we could think of over the years to try to discover whether David, Lana, and Luka were dead or alive. I’m just praying our hopes aren’t shattered again.”

  “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

  “No, I wanted a general chat, Raymond.”

  “How general?”

  “You could start with how you think Carla might handle what she’s learned about her family. Is that nonspecific enough a question?”

  Leon held up his palms in a helpless gesture. “It’s kind of hard to say at this stage.”

  “Because she’s got so much on her plate?”

  “Pretty much. Discovering right after her husband died that she had a completely other life, then seeing her mom’s remains, and what she thought were her brother’s, is a heck of a lot to deal with. Add to that the fact that she’s pregnant. She’s suffered overwhelmingly, but it amazes me she hasn’t had a complete psychotic breakdown.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I guess what people fail to understand is that the trauma is not in the event, but in the body and mind of the victim because of the overwhelmingness. A person can suffer severe injury being attacked by an animal, but if they don’t get overwhelmed and are able to kill the animal or run away and escape, they won’t end up with any trauma.”

  Baize sighed as a couple of panting, spandex-clad joggers ran past.

  “You know, I used to think love was easy. But it’s not, is it, Raymond?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “So much of the time it can be wonderful, warm, fulfilling. Other times it’s the most complex and frustrating experience in our lives.”

  “What is it, Baize? You sounded pretty troubled when you called.”

  “I’m hopeful about Luka, I’ll admit that. But I’m also worried, Raymond.”

  “Go on.”

  “Worried because Carla hates Shavik with such a vehemence that it’s truly frightening.”

  “She wouldn’t be human if she didn’t.”

  “Anger’s boiling inside her like lava, ready to erupt.”

  “Anger’s normal. Anger against the perpetrators and a quest for justice. We’ll try to deal with her issues over time.”

  “That’s precisely what worries me.”

  Leon saw tears at the edges of Baize’s eyes. She gave a heavy sigh, struggling with her emotions.

  “What are you saying, Baize?”

  “I know it’s a little late to be admitting this. But all those years ago I didn’t tell you everything about Carla.”

  Leon fell silent, waited.

  “Dan and I didn’t tell Carla everything about her past, either. Not the whole truth.”

  “Where’s this going?”

  “I didn’t tell her everything about her past because . . .”

  “Because what, Baize?”

  “Because I felt it would be way too much for her to handle. But it’s been killing my conscience, tearing me apart. Part of me feels it’s my duty to tell her. Yet another part of me is afraid of how she’ll react.”

  “What are we talking about here?”

  Baize opened her purse, and took out a clear plastic bag containing a sheaf of familiar-looking yellowed pages.

  Leon felt the reality sink in. “The diary’s missing pages?”

  “I removed them, many years ago.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t want Carla to see them.”

  “Why not?”

  “The pages have to do with Carla’s mom and dad.”

  Leon looked at her, saying nothing.

  “Lana was already pregnant when they married.”

  The doctor frowned. �
�Was that such a huge deal?”

  “Lana was in love with another man. She became pregnant. He let her down. She moved to Dubrovnik to avoid any shame to her father.”

  “I see. Carla knows nothing about this?”

  Baize shook her head. “David and Lana never wanted Carla to feel like she was an outsider who didn’t belong in the family. The opposite, in fact. David made a huge effort to make sure she knew that he loved her.”

  “What is written on the missing pages?”

  “Reflections, thoughts, confessions.”

  “About what?”

  “The man Lana once loved. I couldn’t let Carla see her mother’s words in case she felt hurt.”

  “Baize, you want my advice? Don’t stress yourself about this. David loved Carla like a daughter, and in the end that’s all that matters.”

  “Can you imagine if Carla had to stand up in a court of human rights? I guess that’s partly why we didn’t pursue a prosecution as vigorously as we should have. Why we didn’t want her to visit the past again.”

  “I’m not with you.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you Raymond?”

  “Get what?”

  “Why I couldn’t tell her.”

  “Tell her what?”

  “That the man Carla hates, the man she despises above everyone else and blames for destroying her life—that man is her real father.”

  70

  * * *

  “She left?”

  “Yeah, in her car.”

  “When?”

  “After ten a.m.”

  “How did she seem?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “Well, maybe, sorta.”

  “Maybe, sorta? What kind of answer is that?”

  “I don’t know, Regan. Maybe see seemed kinda distracted. You think Dad likes her?”

  Josh sat in front of the office computer tapping keys, as Regan leafed through a stack of bills on the desk.

  “You know your dad. He keeps his cards close to his chest. Ask him yourself. He ought to be back soon.”

  “I Googled her some more on the Net.”

  “Yeah?”

  Josh turned the computer screen around to show various images of Jan Lane onstage, playing the piano. Others of him and Carla outside concert halls.