Quinn - Iris Johansen [114]
“I can’t do it,” Jacobs whispered. “He’ll kill me. You may hurt me, but I have a chance to live. I know he’ll do it.” His lips were suddenly curled with anger. “This is all your fault, Gallo. You may not have killed her, but it’s all your fault. You shouldn’t hurt me.”
“Thirty minutes.” He turned back and taped Jacobs’s mouth shut again. Then he strode to the door and opened the door for Catherine. “No more. I don’t want to hear anything from you until you tell me what I want to know.” He shut the door firmly behind them.
Catherine drew a deep breath as she started down the stairs. “I wasn’t sure that you were going to stop.”
“Neither was I,” he said grimly. “I had to stop now or not at all. It was hard as hell.”
“But you said it would be easier after he has time to think about what might happen to him.”
“That’s the plan. He’s not a brave man. It should be easy to break him.” He frowned. “But I don’t know…”
“I don’t know either.” Catherine was remembering Jacobs’s terrified expression. “He was afraid.”
“And not of me.” His lips tightened. “Which would have meant breaking him would have been twice as hard.”
“He should have been afraid of you. You were very intimidating.”
“Not enough.” He had reached the bottom of the stairs. “But I will be when I go back upstairs. He has to talk.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We sit in that drafty kitchen and have some more of that less-than-pleasant bouillon.” He headed for the kitchen. “And we give Jacobs time to become terrified by his own imaginings.”
“Who is he afraid of?” she murmured as she followed him. “Was I right? Queen did employ other killers for hire besides Black.”
“But what’s the motive?” Gallo shook his head. “I’m not making any more guesses. I’ve spent years wondering and guessing and trying to make sense of Bonnie’s death. I have to know the truth.”
“One truth you do know is that you didn’t kill her,” she said quietly.
“Thank God.” He turned on the pan of hot water. “But that doesn’t mean I’m entirely free of blame. Not with Queen and Jacobs involved.”
“By all means, reserve a little guilt for yourself. You wouldn’t want to let yourself entirely off the hook.” She sat down in the chair. “Gallo, just because they were part of your life doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
“It means that sometimes our lives touch each other, and that has a direct effect.” He poured a little of the bouillon into her cup. “And you know that’s true from your own experience.”
She couldn’t argue with him. Her life had touched Rakovac’s, and it was Luke who had suffered.
His lips twisted. “And the last thing Jacobs said was that it was all my fault.”
“Bullshit. You don’t know what he meant by that,” Catherine said. “He was blaming everyone but himself.” She sipped a little of the bouillon. “I hate this waiting. I hate this whole thing. I wanted Jacobs to break down and sing like a bird.”
“I won’t hurt him unless he doesn’t give me a choice, Catherine.”
“I know.” And it wasn’t as if Jacobs was some innocent victim. He had hired Nixon to kill them. And, in spite of protesting his innocence, he had almost certainly been involved in Bonnie’s death. The nightmare had gone on too long, and only Jacobs could cause it to come to an end. “But I don’t have to like it. I hate hurting people.”
He suddenly smiled. “You’d rather I cut the bastard’s throat and get it over with? You’re a strange woman, Catherine.”
She shrugged. “I’m what life made me. Just like you, Gallo. And you’re not so—” Her phone rang, and she glanced at the ID.
“It’s Eve.” She pressed the button. “Where are you, Eve?”
“About forty-five minutes from you according to the GPS.” She paused. “Is everything all right?”
“Do you mean have we found out anything from Jacobs? Not yet.” She paused. “Except that he said that Gallo didn’t kill Bonnie.”
“And you think he’s telling the truth? From what you told me, Jacobs is as much of a sleazebag as Queen was.”
“I don’t think he’s lying.