Countdown - Iris Johansen [17]
“Who wanted to talk to me?”
He didn’t answer.
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Leonard . . . I don’t remember.”
“Was Leonard his first name or his last name?”
“I told you—I don’t— His last. If it was his real name.”
“Why should you doubt it?”
“I didn’t, until— I didn’t want Mike to die—I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Do you know Leonard’s first name?”
He was silent a moment. “Ryan.”
“What was the other man’s name?”
“I have no idea. He never introduced himself. Leonard did all the talking.”
“Where did you meet them?”
“I didn’t meet them exactly. I was sitting in a bar a few weeks ago and they sat down and started talking. I needed the money and they promised it would be okay. All I had to do was make sure you came to the alley so they could talk to you.”
“And it wasn’t difficult, was it? Because Mike was so easy to manipulate. Just jerk a few strings and he’d dance.”
“I liked Mike. I didn’t want to hurt him.”
“You did hurt him. You made him feel inadequate and then you set him up.”
“I need the money. Harvard’s expensive, and my parents can barely afford the tuition. I was living like a pauper.”
“Did you think of getting a job?”
“Like you did?” he asked sourly. “So perfect. Mike hated that about you.”
Don’t show him how that jab hurt. “How do we find this Ryan Leonard?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea. They gave me half the money when I agreed to do it, and they put an envelope with the rest of the cash in my post office box when I called and told them I’d bring you to the Red Rooster that night. I haven’t heard from them since.”
“Do you still have the envelope?”
He nodded. “I didn’t spend the money. It’s still in the envelope. After Mike was— I was afraid to even put it in the bank. I thought it might look incriminating if I had to go to the police. But there’s no address. It’s just a blank envelope.”
“Where is it?”
“In my room at the dorm.”
“Where?”
“In my English lit book.”
“And you saw the other man that night?”
“I told you I did. Why?”
“Because I only saw one. I need a description.”
“Now?”
“No, not now.” She couldn’t take any more. She unlocked the door. “Get out. I’ll give you two hours to get to a police station and try to convince them how innocent you are. If you take off, I’ll send them after you.” Her lips tightened. “And I’ll come after you too.”
“I’m not a fool. I’ll turn myself in. Not that I’m afraid of you. It’s just the smart thing to do.” He got out of the car. His fear was fading, and he smiled with a touch of bravado. “I’ll get off. Maybe I’ll only have to plea-bargain. I’ve got everything going for me. I’m young and smart and they’ll just believe I’m a clean-cut kid who made a mistake in judgment.”
She felt sick. God, he might be right. “Tell me. How many pieces of eight, Paul?”
“What?”
“How much did they pay you?”
“Ten thousand when I agreed. Another ten when I set it up.”
“And you didn’t question why they’d spend that kind of money just to talk to me?”
“It wasn’t my business. If they wanted to fork out that kind of—” He broke off as he met her gaze. “Screw it.” He turned on his heel and strode down the street.
Jesus, he was cocky. She wanted to gun the car and drive over the bastard. He’d betrayed his friend and he was only worried about his own neck. She leaned her head against the steering wheel for a moment, gathering her composure.
Then she started the car and reached for the phone. Joe answered on the second ring.
“I want you to do something for me.” She stared after Paul as he reached the corner. “Paul Donnell is going to turn himself in to the police in the next couple hours.”
“What?”
“He set Mike up. He took twenty thousand dollars to get Mike to bring me to that alley.” She interrupted him as he started to curse. “He says they told him they only wanted to talk to me. He accepted it and didn’t ask questions. He didn’t give a damn.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Yes. He said the name of the man who gave him the money was Ryan Leonard and that he knew nothing else about him. He didn’t get the name of the second