Judge & Jury - James Patterson [72]
I ran my fingers along Andie’s spine again. This time she turned and faced me, resting on her arm. She saw something was serious. “What is it?”
“I may have a line,” I said, “on the man who blew up the bus.”
Andie sat up, the sleep already gone from her eyes. “What are you talking about, Nick?”
“I’ll show you.”
I reached over and opened a manila envelope I had on the night table. In a long row on the bed I spread several black-and-white glossies: Homeland Security photos of Kolya Remlikov and the ones Yuri Plakhov had sent me.
“His name is Remlikov,” I said. “He’s Russian. He’s a killer for hire. And a particularly good one. He’s got a very bloody résumé. I think Cavello may have gotten him through the Russian mob. I think he’s in Israel.”
Andie’s eyes widened at the photos. I put down the one Chummie had doctored in his lab, showing the man in the elevator without his disguise. They stretched wider. She picked it up and stared at the angular, dark-featured face a long time.
“Why do you think he was the one who blew up the bus?”
“This.” I removed two final photographs. The first was one I had given Senil. This photo I had found myself, from hours and hours of plugging through the courthouse security cameras. Not from the day of the escape. But from earlier.
From Cavello’s first trial.
“Take away the sideburns and the dark glasses.” I put a cleaned-up image next to it.
“Oh my God!” She picked it up, jaw tightening, gazing at the face with a hurt, stunned expression. Then her eyes filled with tears.
“Why did you keep this from me?” she asked, her back to me.
“I didn’t. I only got these photos today.”
“So what happens now? You give this to your people?” she said excitedly. “They go and get him? Tell me that’s the way it goes.”
“I don’t know. It may not be that easy. The Israelis will have to be contacted. It involves governments. Procedures. This sort of evidence is highly speculative. Photos can always be doctored. You never know what will happen.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? This man killed federal marshals, and he helped Cavello escape. He blew up the loaded juror bus, Nick. He killed my little boy.”
“I know. But it’s complicated, Andie. Remlikov is a foreign citizen. There may be other governments involved. Other law enforcement agencies. Then the Israelis have to agree to give him up.”
“What are you saying, Nick?” Alarm rose up in her eyes. “They can go get this guy. You know where he is. These are your people, Nick. What does the Bureau think?”
I shook my head. Waited a second. Then I spoke again. “I didn’t take it to the Bureau, Andie.”
She blinked like a fighter trying to clear his head after a stunning punch. She kept looking at me, trying to read my face. “What are you saying, Nick?”
“I’m saying a man like this would disappear the second he knew people were onto him. And the instant Cavello finds out we’re onto them, he takes off, too.” I looked at her, eyes clear. “We’ve lost Cavello twice. We’re not losing him again.”
I think, at that moment, she knew what I was proposing. The angry flush on her face was swept away, and it was replaced by a look of clarity. When she looked at me again, I think she understood what kind of man I was.
“I told you I was going to get him, Andie.”
She nodded. “I’m not even going to ask, Nick. I just want you to know, whatever it takes, I’m with you. Do you hear me? Do you understand?”
“Not on this,” I said. “This is something I have to do alone. You don’t want to be involved.”
“No.” Andie smiled thinly. “That’s where you’re wrong. I know exactly what you have to do, Nick. And I’m already involved.”
“Not like this.” What I had to do was in another country—and was way, way outside the law.
“Yes, like this, Nick. Like everything.” She picked up Remlikov’s photo. “I lost my son. I want Cavello, too.”
“You know what’s going