The clowns she was referring to were Detectives Donovan and Boyle. Cates had called them in on the operation. No explanation. Kylie was not happy about it, but she knew better than to question Cates's judgment.

"What would you rather do?" I said. "Storm the castle in your designer camo with a gun in each hand and a nine-inch KA-BAR between your teeth?"

And then a bright orange fireball lit up the sky.

Like so many bright red dominoes, the taillights in front of us popped on, and Kylie slammed on the brakes to avoid plowing into the rear of a white van.

I radioed Big Brother. "Explosion on the Queens side of the EKB. What's going on?"

"We know. Our bells and whistles are going off. Hang on, I'm pulling up the traffic cams in front of you. There's a ten fifty-three-looks like a city bus slammed into an eighteen-wheeler, blew his fuel tank. People are pouring out of the bus, drivers abandoning their cars."

I checked the GPS. Casey and Bell were on the other side of the accident. They had just pa.s.sed through Queensboro Plaza and were moving along at a rapid clip.

And then I heard Gideon come in over the wire. "We have no choice. We have to kill her."

"Monitor, this is Red Leader," I said. "We're parked. Can we get out of this box or not?"

"Negative. Everything is total gridlock. Hold on-you can skirt the accident if you're on foot."

Now we had no choice. "Red Team, this is Red Leader," I said. "Abandon your vehicles and move out. Now. Monitor, I can't track the targets when I'm on the run. Keep me posted."

Kylie and I jumped out of the Ford and started running along the steel roadway. The SWAT team was right behind us in full tactical gear. A few drivers rolled down their windows, yelling at us to run faster and get the G.o.dd.a.m.n traffic moving. You've got to love New York. There's always someone around to tell you how to do your job.

"Red Leader, targets just turned off Jackson onto Crane Street. It's a dead end, so that may be where the hostage is."

"How far is it from where we are?"

"One point three miles. Can you commandeer a vehicle once you get past the accident?"

"We're coming up on it now," I said. "It's total chaos. No first responders, but this whole stretch of roadway is a construction zone, and you have hard hats with fire extinguishers a.s.sisting. I can hear fire engines approaching, but negative on commandeering a vehicle, Monitor. Even if there were a troop transport waiting here, traffic is stretched all the way out to Queens Boulevard. This is the fastest way. I'm guessing ten to twelve minutes before the whole team is in place on Crane Street."

"Red Leader, I don't know if you picked up their last transmission. They plan to kill the hostage and run. I don't think you have ten minutes."

"Then I have to buy us some time," I said.

I stopped short. The elevated Queensboro Plaza subway station was overhead. I leaned against one of the graffiti-covered, steel-reinforced concrete pillars, pulled out my cell phone, and dialed.

Dave Casey answered on the first ring. "Zach. What's up? Did you find her yet?"

"No," I said, trying to keep my heavy breathing from giving me away. "But Calvin Vidmar, the doorman at Rachael's apartment building, just confessed to murdering Kimi O'Keefe. We found corroborating proof at his apartment. I thought you and Bell should know it. Rachael O'Keefe is innocent."

He didn't say a word.

"Dave-did you hear me? Did you process what I said?"

"Yeah...I heard you. Heard you just fine. Thanks for calling."

He hung up, and I broke into a run. Kylie and the SWAT team were already in front of me.

Chapter 79.

"Did you hear the radio?" Gideon asked.

Dave shook his head, still trying to process his conversation with Zach Jordan. "No, I was on the phone. What's going on?"

"That explosion-a ten fifty-three on the off-ramp of the bridge. A bus. .h.i.t a truck and blew the gas tank."

"Anybody hurt?"

"Dave, who gives a s.h.i.t? The point is, the whole f.u.c.king bridge is shut down-we got here just in time. Let's do what we have to do and get moving."

Dave got out of the car, opened the garage door, and rolled the gate back in place as soon as the SUV was inside.

"Who called you just now?" Gideon said, stepping out of the car.

"Jordan."

"And?"

"He said O'Keefe is innocent. He said the doorman from her building confessed to killing the kid."

"Bulls.h.i.t! He's playing us."

"What do you mean?"

"Put it together, man. Jordan, MacDonald, Cates-they're all playing us. First they call us in about this bogus phone call that we know was impossible for O'Keefe to make. Then we drive to Queens, and they follow us. They followed us, Dave."

Dave peered through one of the two grimy, wire-reinforced windows. "Then where are they?"

"They're on the other side of the G.o.dd.a.m.n explosion. They can't get here. That's why Jordan called you with another bulls.h.i.t story. This time she's innocent? They're trying to buy time. Let's get our s.h.i.t and get the h.e.l.l out of here. You load the video equipment. I'll get the stuff from the back room."

"What about Rachael?"

"Same as before. She can identify us. We kill her. End of story, Dave."

"What if she really is innocent?"

"Dave, they're s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with your head. She's guilty. We know she's guilty. You load the car. I'll take care of Rachael. Then let's get the h.e.l.l out of here."

"Let's not," a voice said.

They turned, and a giant of a man had stepped out from behind the false wall at the far end of the building. Dave knew a lot about guns, and he recognized the Smith & Wesson 5946 nine-millimeter pistol as soon as he spotted it. This one was fitted with an eight-inch Infiniti silencer on the business end.

"We're cops," Gideon said. "Put the gun down. Now."

The big man laughed. "Put the gun down? You got b.a.l.l.s, man. How about you get on your knees, put your weapons on the floor nice and easy, slide them here, and then put your hands behind your head. You know-just like in the movies."

Dave lowered himself to the ground and slid his gun across the room. Gideon didn't budge. "You're making a mistake," he said. "We're NYPD."

"Well, that explains why you don't listen. Now either get down while you still have knees to help you down, or I'll cap one of them and let gravity do the rest. Right or left-your call."

Gideon knelt down next to Dave. "If you think you can just walk in and rob a couple of cops," he said, sliding his gun across the cement floor, "you're crazy."

He laughed. "Is that what you think? This is not a robbery."

"Then what the h.e.l.l do you call it?"

"I'd call it Judgment Day," said the silver-haired man who stepped out from behind the wall. He had a gun in his right hand-a black Beretta 85 fitted with a five-inch suppressor. In his left was the choke pear.

"Jesus," Dave said. "Joe Salvi."

"And son," Salvi said.

With that, Jojo Salvi swaggered out from behind the wall, a satin nickel version of his father's Beretta in his hand.

"Over there," Salvi said to Jojo. "Opposite Tommy Boy."

Jojo took his position, and the three men stood there in silence-an ominous triangle of guns and muscle.

Finally, Salvi spoke. "Ingenious," he said, holding up the choke pear. "Easy to operate, extremely effective-every smart businessman should have one. I think I'll keep it." He tossed the pear to Tommy Boy.

Salvi stared at them with the same dark, menacing eyes that had scanned a church filled with people at his son's funeral. But now he had found what he was looking for. "Your partner looks confused," he said to Gideon. "But you expected us, didn't you, Gideon?"

Dave's head snapped to the left. "Gideon, what is he talking about?"

Gideon stared straight ahead.

"Let me make this easy for you," Salvi said to Dave. He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a dark red Moroccan leather journal, bordered in gold filigree. "Look familiar?"

Dave couldn't quite put the pieces together fast enough. "Where did...how..."

"Shut up, Dave," Gideon said. "Salvi, don't be an idiot. We're cops. I don't care what you think is going on, but you can pull a s.h.i.tload of jail time for this. Put the gun down now, and we'll drop the whole thing."

"Oh, you're cops?" Salvi said, lowering the gun and bringing his arm out to his side. "Why didn't you say something?" He turned to Rachael O'Keefe, still chained to a pipe, her mouth sealed with duct tape. "Look, lady-the cops are here. You want to go with them?"

Rachael shook her head violently and let out a m.u.f.fled scream.

"Bad news, boys," Salvi said. "You're striking out with the ladies. I guess n.o.body has any respect for cops these days. Even a damsel in-" Without warning, he brought the b.u.t.t of his gun down hard against Gideon's jaw, shattering bone, ripping flesh, and exploding capillaries.

Blood spattered across the room. Gideon doubled over but managed to stay on his knees.

Salvi turned to Dave. "I'm sorry, Detective Casey. I got distracted. Did you have a question? Oh yes, how did I get my son's journal? Funny thing-Gideon's mother found it and was kind enough to return it to the family. Lovely woman. Took care of most of the flower arrangements for my son's funeral."

Dave turned to Gideon. "Your mother? You said you burned it. Why would you keep-"

"Shut up," Gideon said, spitting out blood and chunks of teeth.

"You knew your mother gave it back to them?"

"Of course he knew," Salvi said.

"I just found out about it," Gideon said. "I didn't want you to freak out while we were in the middle of this, but I swear I was going to tell you as soon as we finished here."

"So you spared me the fact that the Mob was gunning for me?"

Gideon looked away.

"There's no talking to him, Dave," Salvi said. He walked over to the video equipment. "Nice little setup you got here. You like to tape confessions? So do I. We've been here a while, and I think Jojo's got the hang of it. Jojo, turn on the camera."

Jojo didn't move.

"You deaf?" Salvi said. "Turn on the camera."

"I don't know, Pop," Jojo said. "We have to do what we came to do, but videotaping it-I don't know if that's such a good idea-"

Salvi held up a hand. "Don't think," he said, his voice a menacingly low whisper. "Your mother has been waiting twelve years. Now turn on the f.u.c.king camera."

"Okay, okay," Jojo said, tucking his gun in his belt. He stepped behind the camera and pointed it at the two men on their knees. He pressed the red Record b.u.t.ton and a red light blinked on. "Whenever you're ready, Pop," he said.

"Okay, then," Salvi said. "I guess I'm the director of this little movie. This is going to be the big confession scene-the one everybody's been waiting for."

He stood eight feet away and pointed the gun straight at Dave's head. "Now, start confessing."

"This place is going to be swarming with cops any minute," Dave said.

Salvi laughed. "You are cops. You came to torture this woman. What did you do-call for backup?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Look, Dave, you seem like a reasonable man, so tell me-whose idea was it to kill my son?"

"Your son raped my sister," Dave said.

"I don't care if he f.u.c.ked your grandmother, chopped her up, and fed the pieces to his dog. You both killed him. I know that. Now I want to know which one of you planned it."

"What's the difference? You're going to kill us both anyway."

"The difference? The difference is that one of you pulled the strings. The other is just a soldier-a follower. One of you made the decision to bash my boy's head in and hold his face underwater until he drowned. There's always a leader." Salvi pointed his gun at Gideon. "Was it him? He acts like he's in charge."

Gideon, dripping with blood, stared at Salvi defiantly.

Salvi stared back. "But he's not," he said, kicking Gideon in the ribs hard enough to hear bone crack. "He's not in charge of anything."

Gideon collapsed to the floor and yowled in agony.