“Yeah, I got it here. Goddamn sucky navi system.” Peabody cursed, rapped her fist on the dash and had the map shuddering into place across the windshield.
“You’re making progress, Detective.”
“Learned from the best. Sixth is your best bet. Jeez, watch the glide cart.”
She missed it by a good two inches, and used the in-dash ’link to contact Roarke. “Suspect is believed to be heading to Chad Dix’s residence, with Dix,” she began without preamble. “We believe he’s learned the location of the diamonds. Baxter and Trueheart are halfway to Long Island with the Whittiers. Feeney and McNab are being tagged. Depending on how this shakes, I might be able to use a security expert, even a civilian. You’re closer than Feeney.”
“What’s the address?”
Peabody called it out and grabbed onto the chicken stick on her door. “ETA’s five minutes, unless we end up a smear on the pavement prior to that.”
“I’ll be there.”
Eve punched it up Sixth, weaving around vehicles with drivers too stubborn or too stupid to make way for the sirens. She was forced to slam the brakes to avoid mowing down a mob of pedestrians who surged into an intersection at the WALK sign.
They streamed by, ignoring the scream of sirens and the vicious blast of cursing she poured out her open window. Except for one grizzled old man who took the time to give her the finger.
“God love New Yorkers,” Peabody commented when her heart kicked back to beating again. “They just don’t give a shit.”
“If I had time, I’d get Traffic to haul in every last one of those jerks. Goddamn it!” She rammed for vertical again, but this time the car only shuddered, shook an inch off the ground and dropped again with a thump.
“We’ll be clear in a minute.”
“He’s going to get him inside. He’s going to get him inside the apartment. Once he does… ”
Uptown, Trevor paid off the cab in cash. It occurred to him on the way up with Dix babbling a bit drunkenly beside him that he might not be able to get out of the city, out of the country immediately and he’d already left too much of a trail.
The cops had already interviewed and dismissed good old Chad, so they were unlikely to bother with him again anytime soon. But there wasn’t any point in leaving a credit trail in a cab to Dix’s front door.
This was smarter. Fifteen minutes, twenty, he’d walk out with millions. He’d stroll right by the doorman and down the block, catch a cab and pick up his car from the lot on Thirty-fifth.
He needed time to get back to his own place, pick up his passport and a few essentials. And he wanted a few minutes, at least a few, to admire the diamonds in the privacy of his own home. After that, he’d vanish. Simple enough.
He’d planned all of it already. He’d vanish, not unlike Samantha Gannon had done the last few days, but with a great deal more style.
A private shuttle to Europe, where he’d rent a car with a forged ID in Paris and drive himself to Belgium and a gem dealer he’d found through the underground. He had more than enough money for that leg of the trip, and once he’d sold some of the diamonds, he’d have plenty more for the rest.
Another transaction in Amsterdam, a trip to Moscow for a third.
Crisscrossing his way from point to point, using various identifications, selling off the gems here and there-never too many at a time-until, in six months perhaps, they were liquified and he could live the life he’d always deserved to live.
He’d require some face sculpting, which was a shame as he liked his face quite a bit. But sacrifices had to be made.
He had his eye on an island in the South Seas where he could live like a king. Like a fucking god, for that matter. And there was an exciting and palatial penthouse on the sumptuous off-planet Olympus Resort that would suit him very well as a pied-à-terre.
He would never, never have to pay lip service to the rules again. Never have to kowtow to his sniveling parents, pretend an interest in his mother’s obnoxious relatives or spend all those tedious hours every week in some box of an office.
He’d be free, as he was meant to be free. Claiming his rightful legacy at long, long last.
“Damn office again.”
Trevor tuned in to see Dix frowning at his beeping pocket ’link.
“Screw them.” Trevor laid a restraining hand on Dix’s. “Let them wait.”
“Yeah, screw them.” With the gin sliding through his bloodstream, Dix chuckled, dropped the ’link back in his pocket. “I’m so damn indispensable, I’ll have to up my fees.”
He strolled into the building beside Trevor. “In fact, I think I’ll take the rest of the day off. Let somebody else run on the wheel for a while. You know, I haven’t had a vacation in three months. Fricking nose to the fricking grindstone.”
He used his passcode to access the elevator. “You know how it is.”
“That’s right.” As Trevor stepped into the elevator with him, his heart began to trip lightly in his chest.
“Dinner party tonight. Jan and Lucia. You going to make that?”
It all seemed so petty to him now, so bland, so small. “Bored.”
“I hear that. Gets so it’s the same thing, day after day. Same people, same talk. But you’ve got to do something. Could use a little excitement though, something different. Something unexpected.”
Trevor smiled as they stepped off the elevator. “Careful what you wish for,” he said, and laughed and laughed as Dix unlocked his door.
Eve screeched to a stop outside Dix’s building. She was out of the car with her badge held up before the doorman could sputter an objection.
“Chad Dix.”
“He just came in. About ten minutes ago, with a companion. I’m afraid you can’t park-”
“I’m going to need a blueprint of the building and of the apartment.”
“I can’t help you with-”
She cut him off simply by holding up a hand, and looked over as Roarke pulled up. “I need the blueprints, and I need your security to shut down the elevators, block the stairwells on every floor. Roarke.” She jerked her head, knowing he’d get results quicker. “Talk the talk. Peabody, let’s get that backup.”
She yanked out her communicator to contact her commander and apprise him of the situation.
By the time she was finished, she was ready to confer with McNab and Feeney in the security office. The diagram of the building was up on screen.
“We send a uniform up to the other units on this floor. We determine what other tenants are in residence and move them out quick and quiet. Then we lock down the floor again. Make that happen,” she said to Peabody.
“Yes, sir.”
“Emergency evac in Dix’s unit, here.” She tapped a finger on the screen. “Can that be sealed from this location?”
“Sure.” Feeney jerked a thumb toward McNab to put him on that detail.
“He won’t be going anywhere,” Eve stated. “Got him locked, got him boxed. But that doesn’t help Dix. We wait and Whittier remains unaware of our presence, maybe he just walks out, but odds are he kills Dix, takes his prize, then tries to walk. That’s his style, that’s his pattern. We move in, we’ve got a civilian in the crosshairs. We let Whittier know we’re here and he’s sealed in, he’s got a hostage.”
“Has to be alive to be a hostage.”
She met Feeney’s gaze. “Yeah, but he doesn’t have to stay that way. Big place,” she continued, studying the diagram of the apartment. “Chad’s got himself a big-ass place. No telling where they are in it.”
“They came in chummy,” Feeney reminded her. “Maybe he takes the toy, leaves Dix alive.”
She shook her head. “Self-preservation comes first. Dix is too big a risk, so he has to eliminate him. Easier to do it now. He’s killed twice before and gotten away clean.”