Judge & Jury - James Patterson [83]
“I was thinking that, too.” Remlikov nodded. “I believe it’s near a town called Ushuaia. Close to the tip. The weather is not so good, I am told, but the isolation is worth every penny. Even the name is telling.”
He told me the name of Cavello’s ranch. Hearing it, I smiled. I knew his information was true.
“Now, I think you have something for me.” Remlikov put his sunglasses back on, our business complete.
Chapter 102
I TOOK OUT MY PHONE and pressed the Send button. Andie answered quickly.
“You can bring him now.”
I tried not to glance in any direction. I didn’t want to alert anyone, Remlikov or a possible accomplice, as to how this was going to take place. My hands were moist, and sweat trickled down my collar. There was nothing to do but wait, and stare at each other.
“So, who was it, if I can ask?”
“Who was who?” I shrugged. I figured he was talking about Andie.
“Who was on that bus? The reason you want Cavello so bad?”
“Consider yourself lucky I don’t kill you right here for what you’ve done.”
“Interesting,” he said, snorting. “I was thinking the very same thing about you.”
I saw him rub the tips of his fingers. I knew this killer wouldn’t just let me get away. I looked around. I needed cover. A group of young people were passing by. I spotted two policemen, meandering our way.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw our white Ford pull up on Ben Gurion Street at one of the entrances to the park. Andie held there, just as I told her, waiting for my signal. I shot another glance at the policemen, my insurance.
“My son?” Remlikov pressed. “The minute is up, no?”
Chapter 103
“I WANT YOU TO KNOW, Remlikov, if Cavello’s not where you say he is, every law enforcement agency in the world is going to have your name and fingerprints. It’s a hard way to raise a family.”
“And you should know, if there’s as much as a scratch on my son, I’ll be looking through employment rosters of the FBI for as long as it takes.”
I raised my left arm. The signal.
The rear door of the car opened. I saw the boy emerge. Andie would’ve been pointing him toward us. He shielded his eyes through the waning sun.
Remlikov waved at him. “Pavel, over here!”
The boy started to run to him. The killer looked at me. Andie’s car started up, then disappeared into traffic.
“I meant what I said, Remlikov. I wish I could shoot you dead,” I said.
Then I cut around the statue—in front of the unsuspecting policemen. Without drawing any attention to myself, I started to jog, fast enough to put as much distance as I could between me and Remlikov.
I hunched into a stream of people heading for the upper terraces. The path was hilly and crowded. I didn’t notice anyone following me.
I left the path and started up a small hill, using trees and low branches as cover. I spotted another exit down below. Allenby Street.
That’s where I decided to head. Catch a cab. In minutes I’d meet Andie back at the hotel. We had what we needed. Within the hour, we’d be gone.
I never looked back until I’d zigzagged to the top of the knoll. When I did, Remlikov was kneeling with his arms held out. His son ran into his embrace. He peppered the boy’s face with grateful kisses.
Then he looked up the hill in my direction. I didn’t know if he could see me. Trees obstructed the view. But it felt like it.
For the first time in minutes, my heart rate finally started to calm. I had what I needed. Andie had gotten away safely. I knew where Cavello was.
I almost felt like cheering. We had pulled it off! We were winning this time.
Only then did I feel my neck roughly wrenched backward, and the knife blade digging deeply into my ribs.
“Sorry, mate, it doesn’t quite work like that.”
My blood froze.
“Now, I’m going to ask you this once,” the voice said in a heavy South African accent, “and if you have any hope of living more than the next few seconds, you’ll be telling me the answer. Who dropped off that kid?”
He dug the blade in deeper; the air gushed out of my lungs. I managed to get one look at him, and I knew I was in terrible trouble.
The hair that