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He slowed down and pulled to the side of the road.
“Okay, now what? Talk to me, Al. What’s this all about?”
I wasn’t sure. I was making this up as I went along. “Give me your gun. No, Mike, with your left hand. Keep the right on the wheel. Slowly, Mike.” I took the gun from over his left shoulder and slipped it under my belt.
“Okay,” I said. “Now put your left hand back on the wheel.”
“Al, I’m one of the good guys, remember?” His voice was calm enough, but he was working the gum hard. “Look, nobody’s sorrier about Benny than me. That was a damn shame, but you were there, you saw—what did you want me to do about it?”
“You set him up.”
“Ah, come on, Al!”
“You planned it from the beginning. Mogart didn’t want just the money. He wanted Bennacio too.”
Mike didn’t have anything to say to that. He was watching me in the rearview mirror. I knew I was right when he didn’t say anything.
“And you set up Mr. Samson and the rest of the knights in Spain. You tipped off Mogart they were coming.”
He shook his head, smiling now. “Why would I do that, Alfred?”
“Because you both knew the same thing: As long as the knights lived, they were the only hope of ever keeping the Sword safe. You both needed them out of the way. So you made them part of the deal.”
“Man, that’s a pretty interesting theory, Al.”
“Mr. Samson trusted you to do the right thing,” I said. “He didn’t have to tell you about the Sword and you double-crossed him. Bennacio knew you were double-crossing us tonight, but he didn’t see how he had a choice. He took a vow, see . . . he gave his word . . .”
“Look, Al, no offense, I know you mean well and everything, but you’re in this thing way over your head. Put down the Sword, pal. We’ll talk about this on the plane, okay? Don’t you want to go home?”
“I don’t have a home anymore.”
“Really?” He whistled. “That’s gotta be tough. I’m truly sorry to hear that, Al. Well, we could take you anywhere you want to go. Natalia is still at the château. You wanna see her? You got kind of a thing for her, don’t you?”
I didn’t say anything, but I could feel my face get hot. Mike Arnold noticed me blushing and smiled.
“Get out of the car,” I said.
“Al . . .”
I pushed on his neck with the tip of the Sword.
“Okay, I’m getting out.”
He opened his door and stepped onto the road. I got out and pointed the gun at his head.
“Get down on your stomach and fold your hands on the back of your head.”
“You’re making a huge mistake here, Al. A heck of a boner . . .”
“Lay down, Mike. I’ll shoot if you don’t.”
“You think so? I’m sorry, Al, but I really don’t think you can.”
He took a step toward me and the gun went off. We both jumped. Neither of us was expecting that. I couldn’t even remember pulling the trigger.
“All righty then,” Mike said softly. He lay down.
“Hands on the back of your head,” I told him.
