Page 110 of Witness 8

Tony swore at him in a way that Lake took to be greatly affectionate, then bear-hugged the man until his face turned Coca-Cola red and then let go of him enough to allow his feet to touch the floor. Lake wondered what it must be like to be on the wrong side of Tony Two Fucks if this was how he treated friends.

Lake sent a text message to Eddie to confirm the apartment was ready, then headed back to his car.

Tony didn’t like his car. Still, it was a car. Lake didn’t care much for aesthetics.

After a phone call with Eddie, he drove to the Jacksons’ to meet Eddie and Clarence.

‘What the hell is this?’ asked Eddie as he got into the backseat with Clarence.

‘It’s my car,’ said Lake.

‘It’s a Pontiac Aztek,’ said Eddie.

‘Is it? I don’t know. It’s white, which is a surprise. I thought it was brown when I bought it. But it drives okay.’

Clarence took a look around the interior and let out a moan.

‘I’m going to walk Clarence home then get to court. Bloch will watch Ellis and Bale. You follow Ruby Johnson, the Jacksons’ nanny. If I’m right, she is going to make some plays. Get pictures.’

And so, for the rest of the morning, Lake had followed Ruby Johnson. He’d watched her wave off Alison and Tomas to a hotel. John left for court, then Ruby left. He watched her go buy a sports bag, and then head to a bank.

The bag was empty when she went in.

The bag was full when she came out.

Lake took pictures on a digital camera with a zoom lens. Slowly, he pulled out into traffic and drove for a hundred yards. Then pulled in. Ruby didn’t use the subway, and for that he was glad. Lake didn’t like underground spaces. She seemed to preferthe bus, and that was easier to follow, as most New Yorkers who drove the city got stuck behind a bus for at least part of their day.

He kept back a couple of cars, not wanting to alert Ruby that she was being followed. After ten blocks, he noticed that the car up ahead stopped when the bus stopped, and had a couple of opportunities to get around it, but never did. A sleek, black Lincoln.

Lake felt something cold walk over his skin. The Lincoln was following Ruby.

He once knew a man who drove Lincolns just the same as this one. Didn’t matter what city he was in, the man always hired or bought black Lincolns to drive.

A man he never wanted to see again. The man that Eddie had met.

Ruby hopped off the bus a block from her apartment building. Lake pulled ahead of the bus and the Lincoln. He looked at the driver as he passed, but the man had his arm on the window rest, hiding his face. Unable to get a good look, he sped up, overtook the car and checked his rearview mirror. The driver had his head down.

An uneasy feeling began in his stomach, and he felt a dull pain in his right shoulder. That joint was held together with wires and screws, limiting his full range of mobility. A .45 caliber round had torn through his shoulder, some years ago. It was one of a number of bullet wounds he’d suffered. Trauma surgeons had saved his life, and stopped the bleeding from the stomach wounds and the shot that cut through an inch of his thigh. Those injuries had healed well.

The shoulder was a problem some days.

Usually, it ached in the cold.

Or when he had nightmares about the shooting in the heroin stash house where he’d almost died from those wounds. He would wake up covered in sweat, his shoulder screaming.

Lake shook his head. Tapped a beat on the steering wheel as he came around the block and parked across the street from Ruby’s building. He just got stopped in time to watch her go inside.

There was a Starbucks on his side of the street. He connected to their Wi-Fi, emailed the photographs of Ruby to Eddie.

His phone rang one minute later.

‘Is that blackmail money?’ asked Eddie.

‘Got to be. I’m sure she didn’t save enough cash to fill a gym bag from changing diapers and washing floors.’

‘How much is in there?’

‘No idea.’