Eye Wit (23 page)

A familiar ripping sound brought her back to the present. Zoran had opened a pack of his Purell wipes. Yoko resisted the impulse to sneak a peek at her passenger, instead she focused on the traffic. If she did look at Zoran, even a sideways look, she might get sucked into the game of counting Zoran’s frequent hand-wiping. Instead, she went back to her memories of the times she and Dan had shared. A delicious tingle crossed her shoulders when she thought of the first night they’d made love. Wine had erased the hesitation they felt and their kisses were slow and deep in their search for intimacy. The warmth of his hand as it slid up her thigh heated her desire…. Her cell phone jingled, ending memories made poignant by the thought that Dan was in intensive care, even though Dante had told her that it was SOP.

“May I discuss our plan of operation?” Zoran asked, breaking his silence. Hadn’t he heard her cell phone? Did he think it was an outside noise?

“Not now,” she snapped. She felt more than saw Zoran’s surprise at her tone. His attention was diverted when a garbage truck swerved and cut in front of them. Yoko cursed silently, braked hard and risked pulling the cell out of her pocket for a quick look at the ID on the screen. It was Vinnie. She answered the call. “Hold on,” and ignoring the cacophony of horns from outraged drivers, maneuvered her way to the side of the avenue and stopped. “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered to the world at large, “so I switched lanes.”

“Yes, Vinnie?”

“We picked up an email from the Dragon Lady to someone called Jane, she’s gotta be the other fugitive. Open wi-fi connection. They’re planning to meet in Central Park at five.”

Yoko relayed the information to Zoran, who looked questioningly at her.

“They must be using one of those little wireless modems that plug into a USB port and access the Internet using cell-phone frequencies,” she explained. “They don’t realize they can be tracked.”

Yoko felt a sneaking sense of relief. Now she and Zoran wouldn’t have to confront Sophia.

“Where in the eight hundred and thirty-four acres of Central Park do they plan to meet?” Zoran said.

“You’d need to call out the military,” Yoko said, astonished Zoran would even contemplate trying to find the women now. Vinnie heard the question.

“The Summer Stage at Rumsey Playfield,” Vinnie said. “It’s at 72
^nd
Street, off Fifth. The Dragon Lady will have to cross the park, she’ll probably take a cab. There’s a rehearsal of some Shakespeare play. Always gets a big crowd.”

“The Jabberwocky.” Zoran quoted from the Lewis Carroll poem. “’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe.’”

Yoko nodded, of course. “The big mushroom––they’ll be at the Alice in Wonderland sculpture. Always lots of people, mostly kids, some parents and nannies.”

“
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
,” Zoran corrected her, “at East 74
^th
Street, north of the Conservatory Water.”

“That’s it. But we can’t go after them alone,” Yoko said.

“We will hardly be alone. Officer Baldoni will alert both precincts. Yoko, you and I have the advantage of knowing what these two women look like. We have the opportunity to work freely and unfettered. In other words, autonomy. Please, start driving again.”

Yoko made a huge leap of faith. Why the hell not?

Nodding at Zoran to show her agreement, she distracted herself from the momentous decision by repeating his words in her mind. “Freely and unfettered and don’t forget the autonomy.” For crying out loud. How the hell did Zoran’s case reports read? Like doctoral theses? She reminded herself that Zoran was a national legend, someone who solved cases and smashed records, however unorthodox the methods. She hesitated another second or two then nudged the car back into the lines of impatient traffic lined up at a red light. Her adrenaline surged, matching the car’s engine as it revved high.

“You do
not
mess around,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“I meant you don’t waste time.” She thought, but didn’t say,
Damn it Zoran, for all your measured movements, you dive straight for the jugular when a decision is vital.

35

“Time to get out, I’m leaving the car here,” Yoko said. She braced herself for Zoran’s reaction. It was totally illegal to abandon a vehicle on any of the roads looping through Central Park and Zoran was a stickler for holding true to the law. Not this time.

“Can you pull the car up over the curb?”

“Watch me,” and Yoko turned the steering wheel hard. The car lurched over the low stone curb and they ended up at a crazy titled angle, but the car was partially off the road. She’d entered the transverse at 79
^th
Street, the closest they’d get by car to the sculpture. They’d have to hoof the few blocks down there.

“Over there,” Zoran said, pointing north.

The stopping place was serendipitous.

Sophia Fellini and Jessica Ware were on a path less than twenty yards away, surrounded by a fast moving stream of walkers and joggers.

“My God, nothing wrong with your far sight,” Yoko said as she focused on the two figures.

“The vision training I had on the Eyeport, the clever invention of your colleague Jacob Liberman, was beneficial.”

How on earth could Zoran make polite conversation right now? Yoko concentrated on the view of the two fugitives, noting how the two women’s body language radiated tension in contrast to the relaxed crowd around them. The white Yankee emblems on the black caps they wore were clear. Perfect for tracking. Neither woman was looking in their direction. Zoran was walking at a fast clip and Yoko lengthened her stride to keep up with him.

“They’re not headed for the sculpture,” Yoko said. “Looks like they’re going to the Reservoir.”

“The Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir,” Zoran corrected her. Yoko ground her teeth. True, that was the official title but everyone called it the Reservoir. Everyone except Zoran. Deep breaths, she reminded herself. You’re tense, so is he.

Three mounted police had emerged from the trees and were steadily gaining on the stream of pedestrians, their mounts trotting in precise formation. Good, Vinnie had called in the cavalry. Walkers and joggers kept moving in a steady stream but gave way, parting gently to the sides of the path so that the horses had space to ride down the center. Sophia and Jessica, still deep in talk, were walking at one side of the path. Had they even noticed that the horses were ridden by police?

“Quick,” Zoran urged and actually took hold of Yoko’s sleeve and tugged on it. She’d have to remember to tell Dan, if he’d believe her. Zoran voluntarily touching someone’s clothing? Never. Together they hurried towards the horses. Thanks to Zoran’s speed-walking, they’d almost caught up with them.

“You take that side,” Zoran said, releasing his hold on Yoko’s sleeve. He circled to the left, keeping a watchful eye on the horses. The captain on the gray gelding at the end of the line had superb peripheral vision, he acknowledged Zoran’s arrival with a snappy salute all the while watching out for the people walking near the horses. He called out a command and the horses surged forward, flanking Sophia and Jessica, separating them from the other walkers, who scattered off the path, suddenly aware that this was more than New York’s Finest exercising their mounts. The two women were brought to an abrupt stop.

“What the hell?” Sophia blustered. Zoran walked calmly up to her and she glared in fury when she recognized him.

“Sophia Fellini, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder and for felony assault with a deadly weapon,” Zoran said. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used….”

“No,” Sophia Fellini screamed. In one swift move she hooked an arm around Jessica’s neck, dragging the startled woman in front of her as a shield. “I’ve got a gun,” Sophia yelled, stuffing her free hand in her jacket pocket.

Before Yoko could react, Sophia pushed Jessica to the ground and ducked under the closest horse, a large chestnut. It reared high, whinnying in surprise, but its rider stayed firm in the saddle.

Sophia barreled through the startled onlookers, roughly pushing them aside and ran for the woods.

“I don’t think so,” Yoko muttered and took off.

She’d had almost caught up with Sophia when hooves thudded behind her. The gray gelding passed Yoko in a full gallop and in a few long strides was level with Sophia. The captain pulled hard on the reins and swung the horse around in front of Sophia.

“Whoa, Gray Boy.” The gray stopped short and stood, flanks heaving. The large horse was directly in front of Sophia, who was forced to a stop. Yoko was behind her and the other police horses were moving close. Sophia had no place to go. Leaning over to look the panting woman in the eyes, the captain said, “I believe Dr. Kamimura has reason to detain you.”

He reached for his handcuffs and tossed them down to Yoko. Glad she’d practiced the maneuver to cuff a suspect although she didn’t think she’d ever actually use it, Yoko grabbed Sophia’s arms, spun her round and clicked the cuffs over Sophia’s wrists.

She paid scant attention to Sophia’s angry scream. “How dare you? You know who I am?” Her blustering morphed into pitiful pleas. “I’m the widow, I’m the victim.”

Then, for the heck of it, although Zoran had the authority, Yoko told the widow Fellini her Miranda rights. Something else she never thought she’d get to do. Kinda fun when you had a crowd of respectful onlookers.

Jessica, on the other hand, was completely silent. Ashen-faced and trembling, she said nothing when her rights were read to her. She avoided looking at Sophia Fellini and slid quietly into a second police car, head lowered. She didn’t look at anyone.

Yoko didn’t see either Sophia or Jessica again until the trial several months later, during which time the two women were kept behind bars. Despite every attempt by the widow and her attorneys, Sophia Fellini and Jessica were held without bail.

36

A month after the biggest triumph of her short career as a civilian consultant to the NYPD, Yoko Kamimura was near exhaustion. So much had happened, almost all of it good, but a lot of it stressful. Most days she felt like leaving town, taking off for parts unknown. She desperately needed a break.

Dan’s voice was excited and Yoko knew that she wasn’t going to get away any time soon.

“Hans Reiniger’s doctors finally gave me permission to interview him.” Dan said over the phone from the precinct. “I’m on my way to the hospital now.”

“That’s terrific,” she managed, thinking, please, please don’t ask me to join you.

“I’ll be at your office in ten minutes to pick you up.”

Crap. The last thing she needed was another visit to the hospital. The eight interminable days Dan spent at the hospital, undergoing not one, but two surgeries on his kidneys, first removing the kidney shredded by Jessica’s arrow, then later repairs to save his remaining kidney, damaged only slightly, had taxed her to her limits. Every day, a new medical emergency seemed designed to take Dan from her.

Daily assurances from Dante Nicosian, Dan’s self-elected hospital advocate, hadn’t done much to relieve her worry, because Dante’s eyes revealed his own doubts. Yoko knew that the eyes were not just the window of the soul, they provided an intimate view of the mood of the brain as well. Even as Dante uttered his hopeful words, his eyes bespoke his worried thoughts.

And yet, Dan
had
pulled through. He had survived. More than survived. Dan seemed determined to treat his thrice-weekly four-hour dialysis sessions as little more than a minor annoyance. That was encouraging. Before Dan’s release from the hospital, Dante had warned her of the risks of dialysis, careful to explain that dialysis would be a way of life for Dan until his application for a kidney transplant moved to the top of the waiting list. A transplant eliminating the need for dialysis could be months away, perhaps as long as a year, maybe longer.

Dante had been right about one thing. “Your man’s fortunate,” he told Yoko one evening. “He’s managing dialysis quite well. Not everyone does, because most dialysis patients are older people who have other things wrong with them besides bad kidneys. High blood pressure, congestive heart failure, diabetes. Not Dan. Before that arrow tore him up, he was in wonderful shape. He’s strong, really strong, and his will to live is indestructible. He’s got you to thank for that, Yoko.