ABSOLUTION (A Frank Renzi novel) (45 page)

“
What’s the situation?” Frank asked. “Did the customers get out?”

“
Yes. Through that door.” Murphy pointed at four black-clad SWAT team members positioned beside a door that bisected the right-hand side of the building. “It’s the emergency exit. No other doors or windows other than the ones in front.”

“
What about the clerk?”

“
Status unknown,” Murphy said. “He never came out. A male customer heard a shot after he left through the side door and stuck his head back inside, but Krauthammer threatened to shoot him if he didn’t leave.”

Frank saw Dana frown, twisting the ends of her ponytail in her fingers.

“
Have you talked to Krauthammer?” he asked.

Murphy indicated a bullhorn on the ground beside the cruiser. “I got on the horn and told him to send out the girl and the clerk. We waited ten minutes, nothing doing, so I told Ben to give it try.”

“
There are two video cameras in the store,” Ben Whitworth explained, “but they don’t feed into a central monitor so we can’t see what the subject and the hostage are doing. What we want, of course, is a dialogue. I asked if he had a cellphone and said we’d give him one if he didn’t. When I gave him my cellphone number he called me right away, said he didn’t want to talk.”

“
That’s exactly what he said?” Dana asked.

Everyone looked at her, surprised, perhaps, that this petite woman with the ponytail had the temerity to interrupt. No surprise to Frank. Dana wasn’t the type to let the boys do all the talking.

“
Yes, ma’am,” Whitworth said. “I asked him to let Lisa go and he said, ‘No one’s going anywhere.’ When I asked about the clerk, he said, ‘I just told you, no one’s going anywhere. Go away. I don’t want to talk to you,’ and then . . .” Whitworth pulled a face and shrugged. “Then he disconnected. We haven’t spoken since.”

“
You got an extra vest?” Frank said to Lieutenant Murphy. “I want to go in the store and talk to him.”

Whitworth frowned. “Do you have negotiating experience?”

“
Sure,” he said, hoping to loosen things up. “I used to be married.”

The comment drew amused grins from the men, but not from Dana.

He pleaded his case to Murphy. “I worked a few hostage situations when I was with Boston PD, and I interviewed Krauthammer twice, so I know what I’m up against. On the way here Dr. Swenson gave me his psychological profile. She was his therapist when he was in high school.”

Murphy gave him a long silent stare. Frank waited, hands clenched behind his back, his stomach in knots.

At last Murphy said to the Corporal, “Get him a vest.” As the Corporal opened the trunk of the cruiser, Murphy said, “But understand this, Renzi. Having you go inside is not my first option. Ben, see if you can get Krauthammer to answer his cellphone.”

Whitworth nodded and began punching numbers into his cellphone.

Frank told Dana to wait there and took the Kevlar vest back to his car. If Murphy did decide to let him go in, the extra-large sweatshirt in his trunk would hide the vest, but that might not fool Krauthammer. It wouldn’t protect him from a head shot, either. In the last analysis it was all a fucking crapshoot. The important thing: his wide-leg sweatpants would conceal the Sig-Sauer in his Velcro ankle holster.

_____

The sinner polished off another Mr. Goodbar and looked over at Marie, hunkered down out of harms way, sitting cross-legged on the floor between two grocery shelves, sipping a can of Diet Dr. Pepper.

“
Do you think you could get me a bottle of water?” he asked.

“
Of course!” she exclaimed, beaming at him as if this was the greatest adventure of her life. He had no doubt that it was. He watched her crawl down the aisle toward the frozen food cooler on the back wall, staying low to remain hidden below the shelves.

As she scuttled around a corner and disappeared, his cellphone vibrated against his thigh. He took it out and looked at it. Unknown number. It was probably that cop calling him again. Or maybe it was a telemarketer calling to sell him life insurance. But it was too late for life insurance and way too late to talk to the cops. He shut off the cellphone and put it in his pocket.

Marie scrambled down the aisle with a six-pack of bottled water, set it on the floor and shoved it over to him. “Abita Springs. It’s nice and cold.”

“
Thanks.” He took a chilled plastic bottle, unscrewed the cap and gulped half the contents, wondering how long they’d be able to hold out.

“
What’s your father’s name,” Marie asked.

Astonished that she would ask, he said. “Mark. Mark Krauthammer, the worst father in the universe.”

She nodded, understanding, he could tell. “Was he mean to you?”

“
Mean? Mean doesn’t begin to describe it. He hired the Nanny from hell to take care of me. I hated both of them.”

“
What did he do? For work, I mean.”

He stared at her. Why was she asking all these questions? She was beginning to sound like Detective Renzi. But no, she was smiling. She really wanted to hear about his father. Correction: She wanted to hear why he hated his father, because she hated hers.

“
My f-f-f-father is a cold, cruel man. All he cares about is Nanny, and I’m not so sure of that. He needed her to take care of me.” Visualizing the disgusting scene he had interrupted one night when he came downstairs, Father and Nanny on the couch, locked in a passionate embrace, mouths together, making sucking sounds. “He used her for sex, too.”

“
Just like my father. He’s always screwing around.”

“
You’re very perceptive, Marie.”

“
I have to be. Most guys think I’m stupid.” She beamed him a smile. “Except you, Tim. You don’t think I’m stupid, do you?”

You’re pretty stupid to be here with me.

“
Absolutely not,” he said.

A tinny, mechanical voice startled him, a new voice, different from the last one. “Hey, Tim, how you doing? It’s Frank Renzi. I’m coming inside so we can talk.”

He clenched his fists. Renzi, the liar. Renzi, the relentless detective who’d conspired with the priest-pretender to cause his downfall. Renzi was the last person he wanted to talk to. Maybe he’d shoot out the glass in the door and scare him off. But Renzi didn’t seem the type that scared easily, and he had only six rounds left. He might need them. There were plenty of cops out there, eager to storm the building, guns blazing.

It was only a matter of time.

He’d thought that when the end came, it would be like a roller coaster ride, a slow nerve-racking climb followed by a terrifying plunge to the tune of shrieks and screams. But it wasn’t. Everything was clear now, as simple as solving an algebra problem. He had anticipated this day, dreading it, but also, perversely, longing for it. Now that it was here, he felt nothing. His mission was over. No more light fading from terror-stricken eyes, no more tongues, no more thrills and chills of excitement. No more internal voice chiding him for his failure du jour.

He looked at Marie. “We’re about to have company.”

She licked her lips, gazing at him, her eyes fearful.

The Glock lay beside him on the floor. He picked it up and checked to make sure the safety was off. The Glock was primed and ready. Was Marie?

“
Ready?” he said, waving his hand, the hand holding the Glock.

She nodded, eyes solemn, raised her loose white shirt and patted the snub-nosed revolver tucked into the waistband of her baggy blue jeans.

“
You’ll be fine, Marie. Think of this as a game of hide and seek. Ready or not, here they come.”

He reached into the box for another Mr. Goodbar.

_____

“
Get him within ten feet of those windows and I can pick him off, no problem.” The sharpshooter snapped his fingers with a loud pop.

Frank glanced at Dana. She shook her head, frowning.

“
How about a flash bang?” he said. “Four of us suit up with masks, go in the side door, stun him with the flash bang—”

“
What if he shoots the girl?” said Lieutenant Murphy.

“
Seems like the girl’s on his side,” said the Corporal.

“
He’s got a gun,” Whitworth said. “She might not be free to leave.”

“
Frank,” Dana said, tugging his arm. “I need to talk to you.”

He asked Murphy to excuse them for a minute and led Dana back to his car, twenty yards away, beyond earshot of the others.

“
Frank, Tim doesn’t need to die.”

“
I’m not worried about Tim dying. I’m worried about Lisa.”

“
What’s the hurry? Why can’t we just wait them out?”

“
They’ve got food and water, toilets, lights. It could take a long time. He’ll get tired and irritable, and that makes for an unstable situation. He could lose his temper and hurt the girl.”

“
And then they’ll shoot him. You heard the sharpshooter. Frank, we can’t let that happen. We have to go in there and talk him out.”

“
That’s the plan,” he said, pacing in a circle, shoulders tight with tension. “I’ve done this before, up in Boston.”

“
If you pressure him, he’ll kill the girl and then he’ll kill himself. I know how to talk to him, Frank. Let me go in with you.”

He stared at her, incredulous. “No fucking way.”

Her mouth quirked at the corners—a frown, not a smile—and anger blazed in her eyes. “I was his therapist, Frank. I know him a lot better than you do. A lot better than these cops. I can talk him out, I know I can.”

“
Can you talk him out of killing Lisa? Can you talk him out of killing me, and you? I’d be crazy to let you go in there.”

“
Since when are you in charge? I’ll ask the Lieutenant.”

She turned to go and he grabbed her arm. She nailed him with a look that said:
Take your hand off me.

He released her and gritted his teeth, willing himself to stay calm.

“
There’s too much testosterone out here, Frank. Too many guns. Too many people willing to shoot first and talk later.”

“
You are not going in there. It’s too dangerous. End of discussion.”

As if to prove his point a soft whoop sounded as an ambulance rolled into the service area. Dana saw it too, and heaved a sigh.

“
Okay. But I don’t want you to go in there with a gun.”

He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation, but that’s what happened when civilians got mixed up in the action.

“
That’s crazy. Tim’s got a gun. We know he shot at a woman, and he probably shot the clerk. If I go in there without a weapon, I’m at a big disadvantage. Tim’s got a gun and he’s got a hostage. He’s got Lisa.”

“
You’re the one with the advantage. Look around, Frank. Two dozen cops with guns just looking for an excuse to kill him. Tim’s smart enough to know he can’t stay in there forever. Besides, if you go in with a gun, he might fly into a rage and kill you right away.”

“
I’m not going to walk in there waving a gun. I’ll hide it.”

“
And lie to him? Tell him you’re unarmed?”

“
Jesus Christ! Of course I’ll lie, to save the girl. That’s the point, Dana, getting the girl out alive. You think I want a gun fight? You think I want people to get killed?”

She set her jaw. “Promise me you won’t hurt him if he lets Lisa go.”

Her words stabbed him in the heart. “Oh, I get it. Tim lets the girl go, shoots me and that’s okay with you, right?”

Her mouth fell open. “Frank! How could you even think that?”

Conscious of the Sig-Sauer in his ankle rig, he paced a tight circle, jittery with tension. The easiest thing would be not to tell her about the Sig, but he hated lying. He had lied to Evelyn a few times in the beginning when he was leaving the house at night and she asked where he was going. But then she stopped asking. She didn’t want to know.

There had also been times when he’d felt compelled to lie to the parents of missing children, giving them hope when he knew in his heart they would never see their kid again, not alive anyway. And he wasn’t telling the whole truth to Maureen about the problems that led to the divorce.

But if he got out of this alive he wanted to have a relationship with Dana. He’d never lied to the two women he’d loved outside of his marriage, and he wasn’t going to lie to Dana, either. He stopped pacing and faced her.

“
I believe I’ve got the best chance at getting Tim to let Lisa go, but face the facts, Dana. Tim thinks Sean and I conspired against him and he didn’t like it, didn’t like it so much he tried to kill Sean. Did you forget there’s an old man in the hospital with a fractured skull because of Tim?”

“
But you’re a cop, Frank. You’re an authority figure, like the father who never loved him. If he sees your gun, he’ll know you don’t love him.”

He tried to quell his exasperation. Any minute now Murphy might change his mind and not allow him to go inside and negotiate with Tim. For some reason Dana was emotionally invested in Timothy Krauthammer, so invested she wasn’t thinking straight.

“
You’re right on two counts, Dana. I don’t love Tim, and yes, I’m a cop. And cops stare death in the face every day. Most people run from danger. Cops run toward it. I can talk to him. I’ve done this before, and I’m not going in without a weapon.”