Kill Me if You Can - James Patterson [26]
He stared at her, much less afraid than she expected. “Oh, come on, Marta. Do you really think I’d rat you out?”
“Would you?”
“Never. How do you think I’ve been able to do this all these years? I keep secrets. Yours, his, everybody’s.”
“I believe that,” she said. “But I also believe that you might part with a few of his secrets if I let you live.”
“You call this living?” he said, spitting out a bitter laugh. “Eating, drinking, and jerking off in this shit hole—that’s not a life. The only thing that keeps me from slitting my own throat is the danger. Working with assassins, executioners, butchers. I’m a conduit to the death squad. That’s my life. You want to put me out of my misery? Go ahead. You’re not the first one to pull a gun on me.”
“Maybe not. But I’m the first one who will pull the trigger.”
She pressed the muzzle of the gun hard against his sternum.
“It might be an ugly life, Ira,” she said, “but it’s the only one you’ve got. Do you want to live?”
The bravado drained from his face. “Yes,” he said. “Given the choice…”
“You hear anything—anything—that will lead me to the Ghost, you call me.”
She handed him a card with a cell number on it.
“I’ll call,” he said. “I swear.” His body began to shake, and the bag of chips fell from his lap and spilled on the floor.
“Careful,” Marta said, lowering the gun. “You don’t want to mess up the place.”
Chapter 29
I THOUGHT THAT what I was about to do would blow Katherine’s mind. At least I hoped it would. I dialed her cell number.
“What’s up?” she said. Two words, but just hearing her voice got me going. We were still at that stage in our relationship, and I hoped it wouldn’t end.
“It’s payback time,” I told her. “You had a surprise for me. Now I have one for you.”
“Cool. What is it?”
“What it is,” I said, “is a surprise…as in I’m not telling you anything over the phone.”
“Can you at least give me a hint?”
I was sitting on my bed with Walter Zelvas’s medical bag at my side. I ran my fingers over the pebble-grain leather.
“Okay, one hint,” I said. “It sparkles.”
“Sparkling surprises are my favorite,” she said. “When do I get to see it?”
“Immediately, if possible. Where are you?”
“I’m just wrapping up at the Whitney. I need about a half hour.”
“I’ll meet you at the Amity and buy you lunch,” I said.
“Deal. Love you,” she said.
“You’re going to love me even more when you see this surprise,” I said, hanging up before she could ask for another hint.
Five minutes later, I was on the subway headed uptown on the number 6 local. I sat next to an elderly woman who took one look at my medical bag and told me how wonderful it was that there were still doctors who made house calls.
At 42nd Street I switched to the express, got off at 86th Street, and walked to the New Amity diner at 84th and Madison. I opened the door and immediately felt like a rock star.
“Mottchew,” Gus called from the back of the diner. “Mottchew Bannon. Good to see you, my friend.”
The owner, Steve, two other waiters, and the short-order cook behind the grill all gave me a big welcome.
As Greek diners go, this one is the absolute best. The food is good, the prices are affordable, and the service is fantastic. Gus was about sixty, with thinning silver hair, a ready smile, and an endearing accent. He was from Greece, or as he called it, Grrrriss. I didn’t know much about him, but I got the feeling he’d had quite an interesting life in the old country.
He pointed to a booth, and even before my butt hit the vinyl, he delivered my usual mug of half-regular, half-decaf coffee and a small pitcher of skim milk.
“Long time ago, I had one like this,” he said, eyeing my medical bag.
“Were you a doctor back in Athens?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You have a doctor bag. Are you a doctor?” he said, avoiding my question and adding to the mystery of his past. “Is the pretty lady coming today?”
“The lady is here,” Katherine said as she breezed in and plopped down on the other side of the booth. “She’s not feeling pretty,