The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [158]
Ben headed directly for the back of the bar. He shoved open the door to the men’s rest room, entered a stall, and locked it. He bent over and tried to catch his breath. As the warmth of the bathroom replaced the cold of the outdoors, Ben felt like he was burning up. He pulled off his jacket, then lifted the toilet seat and vomited the banana and bagel he had just eaten. When his stomach was empty, he convulsed with dry heaves, as his body reacted to the panic that flooded his mind. He flushed the toilet and sat down, shaking. I can’t believe this, he thought, his elbows resting on his knees. What the hell is happening? As he dabbed his forehead with toilet paper, Ben’s body temperature eventually returned to normal, and the color slowly returned to his face.
Twenty minutes later, convinced that Rick and his colleague were long gone, Ben left the rest room. He searched his pockets for change and pulled out a few coins, which he inserted into the pay phone. As he dialed Lisa’s number, his eyes darted through the bar, which was filled with a few basketball fans who were eating breakfast before the first game of the day.
“Hello,” Lisa answered.
“You will not believe what just happened to me,” Ben said, his voice racing. “I just got attacked by Rick and some other guy. They jumped me and tried to kidnap me. I slammed them in the head with a shovel and ran for—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lisa said. “One thing at a time. Start over.” After hearing his explanation of the past half hour, she said, “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” Ben said.
“Did you get a good look at Rick’s partner?”
“Not really. My mind was running at full speed. All I remember is that he was trying to tell me that he was from the Justice Department.”
“Do you think he was?”
“Of course not,” Ben said. “The Justice Department doesn’t attack people with chloroform. He just didn’t want them to call the cops.”
“Who was he, then?”
Ben’s eyes were focused on the front door of the bar. “Either Rick’s lackey or the guy Rick’s using to make money on American Steel.”
“Why would Rick need a new person? American Steel’s a public company. Rick can buy all the stock he wants.”
“But you need money to buy stock. And presumably, Rick was wiped out from Grinnell. He needs someone who already has a lot of American Steel stock or who’s willing to put up the funds. Otherwise, he’s—” Ben looked at his coat on the floor. “Damn,” he said. “I just realized I left my briefcase by the supermarket. I’m sure they grabbed it.”
“You didn’t leave the decision in there, did you?”
“Of course not. But the letter I was working on is in there. Which means they know that I’m turning myself in.”
“They knew that the moment you didn’t show up at the museum yesterday,” Lisa said. “Meanwhile, have you called Nathan and Eric?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“Call them,” Lisa demanded. “If Rick’s running around your neighborhood, the first place he’s going to check is your house. Are they still home?”
“Nathan’s at work, but Eric might be.” Ben hung up and searched his pockets for more change. He was a nickel short. Undeterred, he anxiously entered his calling card number into the pay phone. As his fingers danced across the buttons, he realized he’d misdialed the number. “Damn,” he said, hanging up. He picked up the receiver and frantically reentered his calling card number. “C’mon, c’mon,” he said as he waited for the tone. He heard it and entered his home number, praying Eric had finished his editing and left the house.
“Hello,” Eric said.
“Eric, it’s me. Get out of the house. Rick and that guy in the navy coat—”
“Have you spoken to Lisa?” Eric interrupted.
“Don’t worry about Lisa,” Ben said. “You have to—”
“Shut up a second,” Eric insisted. “Rick called here looking