Jungle Of Steel And Stone (18 page)

Reyna twisted around to look at the expressway and the embankment beyond. "I know. Just because I couldn't find sign doesn't mean that he's still back there."

"We still have a couple of hours of daylight left. If you want to go into Mount Olive and look around, I'll stand guard here."

"It's a thought," Reyna said absently.

"It's your decision, Reyna."

"We'll both wait here," Reyna announced decisively. "By the time I get started over there, it will be dark, anyway. I still believe he's behind us. If we spread out a bit and stay through the night, we may at least keep him contained here—and tomorrow I'll go back in and really start looking. We'll keep the tape recorder running. Do you think the batteries will last?"

"I have spares in my pocket." Veil paused, turned to Reyna. "It may be time to start thinking about what we're going to do with Toby
after
we find him."

Reyna looked away. "I haven't even tried to think that far ahead."

"I'm not sure I believe you, Reyna. Even assuming that we nab him before anybody else does, we still have big problems, don't we?"

"Yes," Reyna answered softly.

"The obvious first step is to turn him in to the police after we hide the idol somewhere. Then we mount the best possible legal defense, which I'm sure we can do considering the publicity Toby has generated."

"That's not the point, Veil."

"Prince Toby of the K'ung isn't going to fare too well when he comes up against our legal system, is he?"

"No." Reyna shuddered, then abruptly swept her hair back from her face in an almost defiant gesture. "There are two murder charges against him. The fact that Toby acted both times in self-defense and that there are extenuating circumstances won't help him escape a trial. The authorities will never allow him out on bail, which means that Toby could be required to spend months in a prison cell. And
then
he could get a prison sentence. He won't last a week in a cell, Veil. It will kill him. He'll be alone in a cage, in a place where nobody speaks his language. . . . Toby will simply refuse to eat or drink anything, and then the end will come very quickly. In his mind he will have failed, and the Nal-toon will be lost to his people forever. The will to live will drain out of him like water down a drain."

"And he could be right about the idol being lost to his people forever. Not a very happy ending."

Reyna heaved a deep sigh, then bowed her head. "Shit," she murmured dispassionately.

Veil put his hand under Reyna's chin and gently lifted her head. Her eyes were filled with tears. "We've looked at the problem and discussed it, as we had to," Veil said evenly. "We had to think a couple of steps ahead, but now it's only a waste of time to be distracted by future problems. You need to focus all your energy and concentration on finding Toby. You let
me
worry about what to do with him when you do, okay?"

Reyna stared into Veil's eyes for a few moments, then nodded and forced a smile. "Okay."

"Good!" Veil kissed Reyna on the forehead. "Now let's talk about important things. It could be a long night, and it's time to think about how to keep the members of this safari in good spirits."

This time Reyna's smile was genuine. "You're going for food?" "Right."

"I wondered when somebody was going to think about feeding the chief tracker of this expedition."

"I propose to pick up provisions from the jungle deli, which I'm sure is only a block or two away. What will the chief tracker have?"

"Roast beef on a roll—make that two—with lettuce, tomato, and mayo. Black coffee. And watch out for unfriendly natives; since you'll be carrying the provisions,

I don't want you to get mugged."

* * *

Veil ordered the sandwiches and coffee to go in a nearby delicatessen, then went to a pay phone in the corner. He dropped a quarter in the slot and dialed a number. Victor Raskolnikov answered on the third ring.

"Victor, it's Veil."

"Veil! I've been trying to get hold of you! Who's that
strange
man answering your phone?"

"A friend holding down the fort. Listen, Victor, I—"

"Have you found out anything?"

"Not over the phone, Victor. I have a strong suspicion there may be heavy ears slapped on to a few phones in the city. But I do have to talk to you."

"Okay," the Russian said evenly. "I understand. Say it the best way you can."

"Things are warming up, and they may come to a boil soon. I will have a few things to report to you."

"Excellent."

"You and I discussed the matter of compensation for my services, you may recall. I believe it will be barter, if that's agreeable to you."

"What do you need, my friend?"

"First let me give you some indication of what I want to do. I think you'd agree that even matters of vital importance can get tangled up in our legal system?"

"I agree."

"Assuming I can find the package we're mutually interested in, I'd like to dump the whole bundle in the sand—a direct drop. Anyone else interested in the package can go look for it there."

Raskolnikov's deep, booming laugh carried over the phone into the delicatessen, startling the man behind the counter, who had placed Veil's order on top of a glass display case. "I love it!" Raskolnikov barked.

"At the moment you might say I'm trapped in the bush, and I'm up to my ass in alligators. I need someone to man a control center and coordinate things. It's specialized work and time-consuming. Can you give me the time?"

"The time is yours," Raskolnikov answered uncertainly, "but I don't know much about these things."

"If you're agreeable, and if I get lucky with my quarters, a man with an ugly face, an ugly nickname, and a very beautiful heart will get in touch with you, perhaps as early as tonight. He'll know exactly what to do. You'll work together."

"It will be done, Veil."

"There's more. The ugly man will know how to take care of business, but the business may require some heavy financing. We're talking big bucks—cash—up front. I can see money down the road coming from the sale of exclusive rights to stories about the package, told by people who have been on the inside. It's exploitive, but I don't see any other way to buy all the sand we're going to need. In other words, I see no reason why you wouldn't be reimbursed, but the cash is going to be needed quickly."

"It will be done, Veil. You just concern yourself with the proper wrapping of the package. What you want is precisely what I want."

"I'll be in touch when I can, Victor. You'll stay by the phone?"

"I'm here."

"Thanks, Victor," Veil said, and hung up.

"Hey, pal!" the counterman called. "Your stuff's ready."

"In a minute," Veil said without turning, and dropped another quarter in the slot.

He spoke to his personal physician, then spent fifteen minutes on the phone talking to a friend he had not seen in six years. When he hung up, Veil was barely able to suppress laughter. The last number he dialed was his own.

"Veil Kendry's residence."

"It's me. Be careful what you say."

"Veil, darling! We've all been worried about you. Where
have
you been?"

"How are things?"

"No problems."

"Any calls? Be careful."

"A couple of miscellaneous items, Veil, but nothing you'd be interested in at the moment. Victor called."

"Got it."

"Also a couple of mystery guests—although it could have been the same person both times."

"Any clues?"

"The first mystery guest simply hung up. The phone rang again about five minutes later. There was music playing."

"Did you recognize it?"

"Verdi's
Requiem.
"

* * *

Veil brought the food and coffee back to Reyna. A brief ripple of anxiety passed across her face when he told her that he had to leave for an hour or two and could not explain why, but she contented herself with asking him to return as quickly as possible.

Veil drove the rented car back into Manhattan, south to' Little Italy. He parked six blocks away from the church, in an underground garage. He left the garage through a rear emergency exit and walked two blocks before ducking into an alley and waiting. When he was satisfied that he was not being followed, he walked around the block, then headed toward the church as it began to grow dark. He entered the darkened sanctuary, paused, and listened. When he heard nothing, he slipped silently into the confessional booth.

"It's me," Veil said as the wooden panel in the partition slid back.

"So you got my message," the gravelly, broken voice said. "I was hoping that you'd know it was me and realize that it was important enough for you to come down."

"Yes. I'm sorry I took so long to get here. You've been waiting a long time."

"It's all right. God and I are old friends, and we've been talking. You recall mentioning a man by the name of Gabriel Vahanian?"

"Yes," Veil said, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise. "He's Nagle's partner."

"Not anymore. He's dead."

"Nagle?"

"Yes. Nagle shot him in the ear with a Magnum. There are a lot of rumors on the street. Somebody did or said something to Nagle that pushed him over the edge at about the same time he found out that Vahanian had been assigned to spy on him. Yesterday the families made a decision to execute him, and he may have found out about that too. Whatever; the point is that he's on the run and off the leash. There are no controls on him anymore."

"I hear you, Father."

"It's come out that the idol is filled with heroin."

"Mm-hmm."

"It's white and pure; there's talk of the package being worth six or seven million dollars, depending on how it's cut.

"Does Nagle know about the heroin?"

"Probably. The information is on the street. His former employers speculate that he'll go after it on his own, since that kind of money is the only chance he has to survive. Nagle makes even these people nervous. A mad dog is not to be taken lightly, and it's rumored that Nagle has a large collection of very powerful weapons. You must be very careful, Veil."

"I will. Thank you very much, Father."

"Go with God, Veil."

* * *

"It s me."

"Veil, darling!"

"Your watch is over, Chuck. You get out of there and take the other guys off the street. Just lock up and split."

"What's the matter, Veil?" All traces of femininity had disappeared from the voice, replaced by the hard, tempered tone of a warrior.

"The guy I told you about is on the loose and over the edge. He doesn't have to play by any rules, and he's rumored to be carrying heavy artillery. He may well come gunning for me, and he'll blow up anybody or anything in his way. I won't be going back there until this thing is over, so I don't need you any longer."

"Do you want me to gather up your paintings and take them someplace safe?"

"No. Just get out of there. Tell the other guys I said thanks, and I'll be in touch."

"Veil, there must be something we can do to help."

"No, Chuck. I can handle it."

"Indeed you can. But be certain to take care, Veil."

"Thank you, friend."

* * *

"I've been worried about you," Reyna said, wrapping her arms around Veil and squeezing him hard. "A little scared, too, I guess."

"I'm sorry I had to leave you."

"Were you able to take care of your business?"