Eve - Iris Johansen [110]
“No.” He nodded at the wall of lockers across the terminal station. “When I was looking for a place to hide Queen’s ledger, I thought of this spot. I have only ugly memories of this site, and I thought I’d add another bit of ugliness to the place. Why dirty up any other area?” He held out his hand. “The key I gave you?”
She reached in her bag and located it. “The ledger is here?”
He took the key and his pace quickened. “Yes. Locker 57. Come on, let’s retrieve it and get the hell out of here.”
She watched him unlock the locker. “It still bothers you? Even though the place was torn down years ago?”
“There’s nothing more vivid than childhood memories.” He pulled out a leather briefcase, checked inside, and slammed the door of the locker. “Yeah, it bothers me.”
That had been a stupid question. A father who had put his cigarettes out on his son’s back? That was not a memory that would vanish with time. “But you had your uncle Ted.”
He nodded. “And that saved me.” He took her elbow. “Let’s go. I’ve got what I came for. This place suffocates me.”
She didn’t speak until they were in the car and driving away from the bus station. “Then why didn’t you find another place for the ledger? It hurts you. It’s not worth it.”
He shrugged. “Maybe it’s a form of self-flagellation. It could be I feel the need to punish myself for all my sins.” He paused. “Or perhaps just for one particular sin.”
“What sin?”
“I’m not going to use you as a confessor, Eve.” He nodded at the briefcase he’d put on the floor of the passenger seat. “Take a look at the ledger. I want you to be able to identify it if it becomes necessary.”
She undid the briefcase and pulled out a thin, cloth-wrapped brown leather volume. The pages were stiff, brittle, the entries clear, but in a script that must have been Korean. “I wouldn’t be able to identify any of these entries.”
“There’s a mark in green ink at the bottom of the sixth page. The color is very close to the blue of the other entries. You probably wouldn’t know it was there if you weren’t aware of the difference.”
“I see it.” She looked at him. “You believe that there’s a possibility the ledgers could be switched?”
“It’s possible. If I’m not around, I want you to be able to identify it.”
“Why wouldn’t you—” Then she understood. “You think you might be killed.”
“I have every intention of staying alive. Anything can happen. Now take a photo of the ledger and a few of the pages with your camera phone.”
She took the photos, then replaced the ledger in the briefcase. “Now what?”
“Now we go up to my cabin about seventy miles north of the city.” He smiled faintly. “It’s on a lake, and that place has only happy memories for me. My uncle rented it and took me up there several times when he was on leave. When I managed to start making money after I broke with Queen, I bought the cabin and several hundred acres around it.”
“And why are we going there?”
“I know the area. Queen does not. Neither does Black. That’s enough reason.”
“You’re going to call Queen and make a deal?”
He didn’t speak for a moment. “Yes, I’ll call Queen.”
But he wasn’t committing, she realized. She felt a chill as she remembered that rage that had so shocked her. Well, she had been angry with the senseless atrocity, too. What measures would she take to save little Cara Clark?
She would just have to see how the scenario unfolded.
CHAPTER
17
THE CABIN WAS SMALL, ONLY a bedroom, living-kitchen combination, and a tiny bathroom.
“Nothing fancy.” John put their bags down inside the door. “I don’t entertain here. I’ll get the broom out of the closet and sweep up after I make a pot of coffee.”
“I’ll sweep.” The place could use it. It didn’t appear neglected, but the dust was a fine film on the floor. “How long has it been since you were here?”
“I don’t remember. A year?” He was at the cabinet getting down a can of coffee. The vacuum hissed as