Rage Of Angels - Part 46
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Part 46

Jennifer stood there, her heart beating fast, and watched as Joshua put the water skis back on. As the boat circled and began to move forward again, it gained enough momentum to pull Joshua to his feet. He turned once to wave at Jennifer and then was racing away on top of the waves. She stood there watching, her heart still pounding from fright. If anything happened to him...She wondered whether other mothers loved their children as much as she loved her son, but it did not seem possible. She would have died for Joshua, killed for him. I have killed for him I have killed for him, she thought, with the hand of Michael Moretti. with the hand of Michael Moretti.

Mrs. Mackey was saying, "That could have been a nasty fall."

"Thank G.o.d it wasn't."

Joshua was out on the water for an hour. When the boat pulled back into the slip, he let go of the tow rope and gracefully skied up onto the sand.

He ran over to Jennifer, filled with excitement. "You should have seen the accident, Mom. It was incredible! A big sailboat tipped over and we stopped and saved their lives."

"That's wonderful, son. How many lives did you save?"

"There were six of them."

"And you pulled them out of the water?"

Joshua hesitated. "Well, we didn't exactly pull them out of the water. They were kinda sittin' on the side of their boat. But they probably would have starved to death if we hadn't come along."

Jennifer bit her lip to keep from smiling. "I see. They were very lucky you came along, weren't they?"

"I'll say."

"Did you hurt yourself when you fell, darling?"

"Course not." He felt the back of his head. "I got a little b.u.mp."

"Let me feel it."

"What for? You know what a b.u.mp feels like."

Jennifer reached down and gently ran her hand along the back of Joshua's head.

Her fingers found a large lump. "It's as big as an egg, Joshua."

"It's nothing."

Jennifer rose to her feet. "I think we'd better get started back to the hotel."

"Can't we stay a little while longer?"

"I'm afraid not. We have to pack. You don't want to miss your ball game Sat.u.r.day, do you?"

He sighed. "No. Old Terry Waters is just waitin' to take my place."

"No chance. He pitches like a girl."

Joshua nodded smugly. "He does, doesn't he?"

When they returned to Las Brisas, Jennifer telephoned the manager and asked him to send a doctor to the room. The doctor arrived thirty minutes later, a portly, middle-aged Mexican dressed in an old-fashioned white suit. Jennifer admitted him into the bungalow.

"How may I serve you?" Dr. Raul Mendoza asked.

"My son had a fall this morning. He has a nasty b.u.mp on his head. I want to make sure he's all right."

Jennifer led him into Joshua's bedroom, where he was packing a suitcase.

"Joshua, this is Doctor Mendoza."

Joshua looked up and asked, "Is somebody sick?"

"No. No one's sick, my lad. I just wanted the doctor to take a look at your head."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Mom! What's the matter with my head?"

"Nothing. I would just feel better if Doctor Mendoza checked it over. Humor me, will you?"

"Women!" Joshua said. He looked at the doctor suspiciously. "You're not going to stick any needles in me or anything, are you?"

"No, senor, I am a very painless doctor."

"That's the kind I like."

"Please sit down."

Joshua sat on the edge of the bed and Dr. Mendoza ran his fingers over the back of Joshua's head. Joshua winced with pain but he did not cry out. The doctor opened his medical bag and took out an ophthalmoscope. "Open your eyes wide, please."

Joshua obeyed. Dr. Mendoza stared through the instrument.

"You see any naked dancin' girls in there?"

"Joshua!"

"I was just askin'."

Dr. Mendoza examined Joshua's other eye. "You are fit as a fiddle. That is the American slang expression, no?" He rose to his feet and closed his medical bag. "I would put some ice on that," he told Jennifer. "Tomorrow the boy will be fine."

It was as though a heavy load had been lifted from Jennifer's heart. "Thank you," she said.

"I will arrange the bill with the hotel cashier, senora. Good-bye, young man."

"Good-bye, Doctor Mendoza."

When the doctor had gone, Joshua turned to his mother. "You sure like to throw your money away, Mom."

"I know. I like to waste it on things like food, your health-"

"I'm the healthiest man on the whole team."

"Stay that way."

He grinned. "I promise."

They boarded the six o'clock plane to New York and were back in Sands Point late that night. Joshua slept all the way home.

48.

The room was crowded with ghosts. Adam Warner was in his study, preparing a major television campaign speech, but it was impossible to concentrate. His mind was filled with Jennifer. He had been able to think of nothing else since he had returned from Acapulco. Seeing her had only confirmed what Adam had known from the beginning. He had made the wrong choice. He should never have given up Jennifer. Being with her again was a reminder of all that he had had, and thrown away, and he could not bear the thought of it.

He was in an impossible situation. A no-win no-win situation, Blair Roman would have called it. situation, Blair Roman would have called it.

There was a knock on the door and Chuck Morrison, Adam's chief a.s.sistant, came in carrying a ca.s.sette. "Can I talk to you a minute, Adam?"

"Can it wait, Chuck? I'm in the middle of-"

"I don't think so." There was excitement in Chuck Morrison's voice.

"All right. What's so urgent?"

Chuck Morrison moved closer to the desk. "I just got a telephone call. It could be some crazy, but if it's not, then Christmas came early this year. Listen to this."

He placed a ca.s.sette in the machine on Adam's desk, pressed a switch and the tape began to play.

What did you say your name was?

It doesn't matter. I won't talk to anyone except Senator Warner.

The Senator is busy just now. Why don't you drop him a note and I'll see to- No! Listen to me. This is very important. Tell Senator Warner I can deliver Michael Moretti to him. I'm taking my life in my hands making this phone call. Just give Senator Warner the message.

All right. Where are you?

I'm at the Capitol Motel on Thirty-second Street. Room Fourteen. Tell him not to come until after dark and to make sure he's not followed. I know you're taping this. If you play the tape for anyone but him, I'm a dead man.

There was a click and the tape ended.

Chuck Morrison said, "What do you think?"

Adam frowned. "The town is full of cranks. On the other hand, our boy sure knows what bait to use, doesn't he? Michael-by G.o.d-Moretti!"

At ten o'clock that night, Adam Warner, accompanied by four secret service men, cautiously knocked at the door of Room 14 of the Capitol Motel. The door was opened a crack.

The moment Adam saw the face of the man inside, he turned to the men with him and said, "Stay outside. Don't let anyone near this place."

The door opened wider and Adam stepped into the room.

"Good evening, Senator Warner."

"Good evening, Mr. Colfax."

The two men stood there appraising each other.

Thomas Colfax looked older than when Adam had last seen him, but there was another difference, almost indefinable. And then Adam realized what it was. Fear. Thomas Colfax was frightened. He had always been a self-a.s.sured, almost arrogant man, and now that self-a.s.surance had disappeared.

"Thank you for coming, Senator." Colfax's voice sounded strained and nervous.

"I understand you want to talk to me about Michael Moretti."

"I can lay him in your lap."

"You're Moretti's attorney. Why would you want to do that?"

"I have my reasons."

"Let's say I decided to go along with you. What would you expect in return?"

"First, complete immunity. Second, I want to get out of the country. I'll need a pa.s.sport and papers-a new ident.i.ty."

So Michael Moretti had put out a contract on Thomas Colfax. It was the only explanation for what was happening. Adam could hardly believe his good fortune. It was the best possible break he could have had.

"If I get immunity for you," Adam said, "-and I'm not promising you anything yet-you understand that I would expect you to go into court and testify fully. I would want everything you've got."

"You'll have it."

"Does Moretti know where you are now?"

"He thinks I'm dead." Thomas Colfax smiled nervously. "If he finds me, I will be."

"He won't find you. Not if we make a deal."

"I'm putting my life in your hands, Senator."

"Frankly," Adam informed him, "I don't give a d.a.m.n about you. I want Moretti. Let's lay down the ground rules. If we come to an agreement, you'll get all the protection the government can give you. If I'm satisfied with your testimony, we'll provide you with enough money to live in any country you choose under an a.s.sumed ident.i.ty. In return for that, you'll have to agree to the following: I'll want full testimony from you regarding Moretti's activities. You'll have to testify before a grand jury, and when we bring Moretti to trial, I'll expect you to be a witness for the government. Agreed?"

Thomas Colfax looked away. Finally he said, "Tony Granelli must be turning over in his grave. What happens to people? Whatever happened to honor?"

Adam had no answer. This was a man who had cheated the law a hundred times, who had gotten paid killers off scot-free, who had helped mastermind the activities of the most vicious crime organization the civilized world had ever known. And he was asking what had happened to honor.