The Midnight Club_ A Novel - James Patterson [48]
Her heart ached for Sam whenever she had a free moment to think, so Sarah tried to have as few as possible. That was easy, with the Midnight Club investigation starting to boil over.
On the night of July 3, Sarah’s part in the investigation was further solidified. The phone in her office rang at a little past ten. She’d been expecting a call from Sam and Roger.
“Hello. Yes. Speaking. This is Sarah McGinniss…All right. Yes, I can do that… That would be fine…Would you give him this message,” she went on. “It’s simple. Everything that he wants can be taken care of.”
Sarah hung up the telephone. Almost immediately, she picked it up again.
She called Stefanovitch. It was possible he would still be working down at Police Plaza.
He finally came on the line in his office. “Stefanovitch.”
“McGinniss…I thought I might catch you. Listen, I have some good news for a change.”
“I think I’m ready for a little good news. I just had Kimberly Manion in here. She got a high-fashion commercial shoot because she worked at Allure. Great, huh?”
“Nicky Wilson wants to see me again, Stef. He wants to talk tonight, in fact. He’s called for another meeting.”
“How did that happen? When? I thought he chased you out of Connecticut.”
“He did. But now he’s apparently willing to make some kind of deal, to talk at least. I’m not exactly sure what it is yet.”
There was silence on the phone line; then Stefanovitch spoke. “Do you want some company? I’m offering, if you do.”
“I write about true crime, Marshal Dillon. I’ve been doing it for about six years now,” Sarah answered back. “I’ll be all right.”
“Listen, Sarah, Bear Kupchek had been doing this kind of thing for a lot of years, too. At least he thought so. This is different. Nobody knows the rules.”
Sarah said nothing to that. She was thinking over what Stefanovitch had said.
“Let me ride up there to Danbury with you. Humor me. We’ll sing overnight camping songs in the car.”
“Stef…I… All right. I’ll be down there in about twenty minutes.”
Half an hour later, the two of them were heading up the West Side Highway, then onto the Saw Mill. During the ride, Sarah noticed that she was incredibly jumpy. She caught herself glancing into the rearview mirror.
She was looking for headlights—for cars that might be following them. She was watching for—pursuers. That was how absurd and out of hand it had gotten. She had the recurring thought that they were going to find Nicky Wilson murdered at Danbury.
She had never been a big fan of melodramas, and she wasn’t keen on them now. Still… the violence surrounding the Midnight Club had been completely unpredictable so far: the grisly murders of Alexandre St.-Germain, Traficante, and Barnwell; the unfortunate killing of Bear Kupchek. Why had Nicky Wilson suddenly changed his mind about talking to her?
46
WARDEN THOMAS MET them in the same building where Sarah had visited Wilson. Thomas looked like a gawky high school science teacher. He was too tall and thin, dressed in a brown tweed suit that was at least a size too large. The part in his grayish blond hair would have been perfect, except that most of his hair was gone.
“We’re going over to the hospital,” he informed Sarah and Stefanovitch as they exchanged handshakes.
Sarah’s breath caught. “What happened to him?” she asked.
Warden Thomas shook his head. “Nothing happened. We moved him into the hospital at his request. He claimed he was having chest pains. I think he wanted to be in a more secure area for your visit.”
The inside of the prison infirmary consisted of a few small rooms, almost like emergency room cubicles, which were evenly placed down the hallway from a nurses’ station. The station itself was encased in protective Plexiglas.
The environment was sparkling clean, and looked organized and neat. It was also surprisingly upscale. Danbury was a country club compared with most prisons. Among inmates around the federal system, it was known as