Page 38 of One of Us Is Guilty

‘Insurance. Bad things happen all the time.You, you’re my insurance policy. I look after my family, Flynn. Do you care about your family? Your daughter wants to go to college some day, right?’

My jaw clenched. My throat tightened.

He leaned forward, said, ‘I could get her into Harvard with one phone call, full scholarship. Or I could get her blacklisted from every decent college in the country. I can have the FBI, the IRS and the justice department investigate your friends, your ex-wife, your fuckin’ landlord, even the guy who delivers your mail – they can all be eating oatmeal in a federal penitentiary for a very long time. You? I could have you on a plane to a fleapit max-security prison in Lagos in the morning. Don’t you get it? Don’t you know who is in charge now? All bets are off with this administration. There are no laws, and there are no rules. Not any more. Not for guys like me. In my time, I’ve brought down presidents, movie stars, princesses, prime ministers and governments. You? You’re breakfast, Flynn. Now, get the fuck out of here and do your job.’

I wanted to say something.

I’m good at comebacks. I don’t take threats well. I could be out of my seat with my fist in Julian Vanderpool’s scrawny throat before his gorilla could stop me.

But right then I didn’t. I let my fingertips curl into the palms of my hands, tightening into fists.

I turned and looked up at the big guy.

‘What’s your name?’ I asked him.

He didn’t answer, instead unfolded his thick, tattooed arms and slid his thumbs behind the waist of his pants. Right hand inches from the pistol on his hip.

‘Are you still here?’ said Julian, the tan on his cheeks seeming to deepen, a vein growing in the side of his neck.

I sat there, didn’t move.

I relaxed my hands, spoke calmly, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.

‘If Vanessa is innocent, I’ll help her. But not for you. If you know me, you’ll know I don’t respond well to threats. Especially threats to my friends and family. Let me do my work, keep the hell away from me and the people around me. Then we won’t have any problems.’

‘You really don’t get it. I’m your boss, your father, your savior and your executioner. I’m all things to you, Flynn. Now go.’

I didn’t move an inch.

Julian’s anger turned to surprise. He was a man who was used to people snapping to attention, and doing everything he said, immediately.

I leaned back in the seat.

Julian tutted, said, ‘Dekker, get him the fuck out of here.’

The gorilla stepped toward me, a mean look on his face.

He grabbed the collar of my shirt, pulled me up off my seat and turned, then shoved me toward the hallway.

I didn’t resist.

The blond guy and his pal waited in the lobby, sweating in their overcoats.

Just before we reached them, I felt the gorilla tensing his arm. He pulled me back, then pushed me forward, almost punching the back of my neck, such was the power and speed of the movement. I lost my footing, put my hands out as I fell and even though I got them beneath me, I still hit my head on the marble floor.

The overcoats grabbed me by the arms, and lifted me off the floor with ease, just as the first drops of blood from the cut on my right eyebrow fell over my shirt. I heard my phone clattering on the floor. They let me pick it up. Then they wheeled me around and toward the street, blood dripping into my eyes.

It was okay. The cut was worth it.

I’d gotten what I wanted. I’d pissed off Julian Vanderpool enough for him to call his bodyguard to get me removed.

The gorilla’s name was Dekker.

He was the second man in the photo Bloch had sent me. The big guy who had met Detective Larkin at the bagel shop and given him something in an oversized envelope.

I didn’t know who he was, or what his connection was with Larkin, but now I had his name.

There are layers of mystery in every murder. This one was thicker than most. There were a lot of things about this case that didn’t make sense. One thing I was sure of: nobody was telling me the truth.