"Then I guess you got yourself a baby," Boomer said, pushing his chair back and standing.

"What's our next step?" Mrs. Columbo asked.

"It's very simple, really," Edward said, his voice calm and in control. "You hand me the baby and I hand you some money and we all walk away."

"How much?" Mrs. Columbo asked.

"I usually pay six hundred," Edward said. "But you've caught me on a soft day. I'll make it a thousand."

"A thousand dollars?" Mrs. Columbo said, wide smile on her face. "Richie, did you hear? He's giving us a thousand."

"That's great, honey," Boomer said, looking out the window over Edward's shoulder, seeing the Lincoln being towed away.

"That's more than we made all of last month," Mrs. Columbo said. "I can't thank you enough, Eddie."

Edward opened the central drawer of his desk, pulled out an envelope, and counted out ten one-hundred-dollar bills. He handed them to Boomer, who folded them and shoved them into the front pocket of his jeans.

"I left the diapers and clothes in the trunk of my car," Boomer said. "Want me to go and get them?"

"That won't be at all necessary," Edward said. "We're fully stocked."

"Then there's nothing left to do but leave," Boomer said. He leaned down and kissed the baby curled in Mrs. Columbo's arms. "I'll wait outside," he said to her, keeping his head down and walking toward the door. "Don't take too long."

"Won't be more than a minute," Mrs. Columbo said.

She waited for the door to close before she stood and handed the baby over to Edward. He reached for him and held him face forward on his lap.

"You're not going to forget me, now, are you?" she asked Edward.

Edward shook his head no. "I'll call as soon as there's a slot for you."

"Can you make it quick?" Mrs. Columbo asked. "I'm real eager to get started. We really need the money."

"I just gave your husband a thousand dollars," Edward said.

"You kidding me?" Mrs. Columbo said. "With the bills we got, I'm lucky that'll last us through the weekend."

Edward stared at her, smiled, and nodded. "Do you mind working nights?" he asked.

"You're holding the only thing that kept me home," Mrs. Columbo said, pointing to the baby in Edward's arms.

"Take the baby for a moment," Edward said, holding out the child. "I need to look up something on the computer."

Mrs. Columbo took the baby and stood over Edward's shoulder. He clicked on the IBM at the side of his desk and watched it chart down a list of names and destinations. He hit a few b.u.t.tons, leaned back in his chair, and smiled. "Have you ever been to Maine?" he asked.

"No," Mrs. Columbo said. "But I always wanted to go there."

"You'll be going tomorrow," he said. "I've just logged you in. Someone will call you and tell you what time to be at the airport. You'll be met there by a woman. She'll tell you what to do."

"I don't know how I'll ever thank you," Mrs. Columbo said in a seductive manner, handing Edward back the baby.

Edward picked up on it, gazing at her legs and holding the smile. "I'm sure between the two of us, we'll come up with something interesting," he said.

"I know we will," Mrs. Columbo said. She leaned down and kissed the baby good-bye, resting one hand on Edward's shoulder.

"We'll speak again soon," Edward said.

"I'll be by my phone," Mrs. Columbo said, opening the door leading to the foyer. "Waiting."

DEAD-EYE SAW THE shadow behind him lift a hand holding a gun. He rolled over on the hardwood floor and came up on his knees, surprised to see that it was a woman standing there, one of the mules from the other room. He had his gun aimed at her chest but didn't fire. Instead, he watched Rev. Jim come up behind her, grab her around the neck, and pull the gun out of her hand. shadow behind him lift a hand holding a gun. He rolled over on the hardwood floor and came up on his knees, surprised to see that it was a woman standing there, one of the mules from the other room. He had his gun aimed at her chest but didn't fire. Instead, he watched Rev. Jim come up behind her, grab her around the neck, and pull the gun out of her hand.

Dead-Eye turned and whirled back to the three men behind him, getting to them before they had a chance to pull out their stash guns.

"Everything cool?" he said to Rev. Jim.

"Like ice," Rev. Jim answered, shoving the mule into the room. "But what do we do with the Three Stooges?"

"Have the mule help you find some rope," Dead-Eye said. "We'll tie and gag the whole bunch and go out through the roof exit."

"Boomer's already on the street," Rev. Jim said. "Mrs. Columbo's the only one still in."

"She'll be out soon," Dead-Eye said. "And so will we."

"Which means I'm the only one who got screwed," Rev. Jim said.

"How you figure that?" Dead-Eye asked.

"I cleaned all their windows," Rev. Jim said. "And never got to see a nickel."

"People always take advantage of the handicapped," Dead-Eye said. "Get used to it."

BOOMER AND M MRS. Columbo walked with their arms linked toward the car parked at the corner.

"We can't leave that p.r.i.c.k in there with that baby for too long," Mrs. Columbo said, hatred in her voice.

"Pins put in a call downtown while you were still up there showing off your legs," Boomer said. "Edward's going to be taken down in about half an hour."

"You should have an undercover team on sight until the others show," Mrs. Columbo said.

"The two guys in suits across the street," Boomer said. "They'll make sure n.o.body runs in or out."

"Good work," she said.

"I try," Boomer said.

"I'm on their list," Mrs. Columbo said. "I leave for Maine tomorrow night. A woman's supposed to meet me at the airport."

"We'll have somebody meet her first," Boomer said.

"I told you my plan would work, Boomer," Mrs. Columbo said, beaming. "Admit it. You wouldn't have thought of this. You probably would have just gone in there and shot up the place."

"I'm limited in what I can do," Boomer said, reaching for his car keys. "And I don't think Eddie would have been as interested in my my legs." legs."

LUCIA STOOD IN the center of the airport hangar, her back to the black Learjet. She was surrounded by eleven armed men. They were all young and brazen and were led by a tall man with a shaved head that gleamed under the glare of the hangar lights. the center of the airport hangar, her back to the black Learjet. She was surrounded by eleven armed men. They were all young and brazen and were led by a tall man with a shaved head that gleamed under the glare of the hangar lights.

His name was Wilber Graves.

A thin, long-haired a.s.sistant in jeans, black polo shirt, and black pumps handed each of the men manila packets filled with background information on the Apaches-photos, home addresses, dates of birth. The men took the folders and kept their eyes focused on Lucia, dressed seductively in a black knit halter top, thigh-high skirt, and open-toed black pumps.

"There are seven names in the folder," she said, her eyes moving from face to face with mannered ease. "They are to be handled."

"How soon?" Wilber asked, standing behind Lucia, his voice a deep baritone.

"As soon as you find out what they know about us." She answered without turning to look at him.

"Are you suspending operations until we finish the job?" Wilber asked.

"No," Lucia said. "All cargo still moves."

"Don't let these people worry you," Wilber said in a voice filled with confidence.

"I don't let anything anything worry me," Lucia said, stepping closer to Wilber, watching as his blue eyes scanned the length of her body. "I let other people worry. People like you, Wilber." worry me," Lucia said, stepping closer to Wilber, watching as his blue eyes scanned the length of her body. "I let other people worry. People like you, Wilber."

"I won't disappoint you," he said.

"That's good to know," Lucia said.

Lucia walked away, her thin heels clicking against the thick cement floor. Wilber and his team watched her go, waiting for the Learjet to be fueled and take them toward their date with the Apaches.

16.

MRS. COLUMBO SMILED over at her husband, Joe, as she piled an armful of clothes into a tan overnight bag. He was resting on the bed, hands behind his head, a paperback novel open across his chest. over at her husband, Joe, as she piled an armful of clothes into a tan overnight bag. He was resting on the bed, hands behind his head, a paperback novel open across his chest.

"How's the book?" Mrs. Columbo asked.

"You haven't read it, have you?" Joe asked. "You know how I hate when you tell me how things end."

"No," she said, laughing. "I haven't read it."

"It's pretty good," he told her. "In fact, I think with this one, even you would have a hard time guessing the ending."

"What's the plot?" she asked, folding her clothes neatly into the bag.

"People are found dead at a big research hospital," Joe said, sitting up in the bed. "No one can figure it. They come in for a simple operation. They come out a corpse."

"It's probably somebody who works for the hospital," Mrs. Columbo said with a shrug. "What kind of research do they do?"

"Mary, I'm begging you." Joe clasped his hands together. "Let me have just this one book. Let me get to the end and not know."

"What kind of research?" she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Cancer," Joe said, resigned to his fate.

"The head administrator," Mrs. Columbo said. "Tell me about him."

"Straightforward and honest," Joe said. "Cares about the hospital and the people who work there. You're off base if you think it's him."

"Was the administrator a surgeon before he quit to run the hospital?" Mrs. Columbo asked.

"I suppose," Joe said. "I have to go back and double-check."

"That's your man," Mrs. Columbo said, standing and walking over toward a bureau. "And your killer." your killer."

Joe stared at his wife, trying to fight the temptation to pick up the book. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and went to the last chapter.

"I'm gonna grab a shower," Mrs. Columbo said. "Let me know how it turns out."

She came out ten minutes later wearing a white terry-cloth robe and combing her wet hair straight back. Joe was leaning against a wall on the far side of the bedroom.

"So?" she said.

"I'm giving up mysteries," Joe said. "That's my last one. From now on, it's romance novels for me."

"Like those those endings are hard to guess," Mrs. Columbo said. endings are hard to guess," Mrs. Columbo said.

"Remember when I took you to see Chinatown Chinatown?" Joe asked. "Halfway through, you knew John Huston was her husband, her brother, her uncle, whatever the h.e.l.l he was to her. You knew. knew."

"Honey, it's my job job to know," Mrs. Columbo said, walking over and stroking his face. "Remember?" to know," Mrs. Columbo said, walking over and stroking his face. "Remember?"

"It was was your job, Mary," Joe said quietly. your job, Mary," Joe said quietly.

"Oh, Joe, let's not have this conversation again, please. I've got too much on my mind right now. If it's still bothering you, we'll talk about it when I get back."

"We were going to take Frankie up to Maine the year you got wounded," Joe said almost wistfully. "We'd made the reservations and everything. Now here you are, going up all by yourself."

Mrs. Columbo stood frozen in her place. Her eyes narrowing in on her husband. "Joe," she said slowly, "who told you I was going to Maine?"