“I’m sorry,” Laurie squeaked. But no sooner had the words come out, then Laurie associated the name with the fact that the man standing in front of her had been burned. It was Angelo Facciolo, Cerino’s main hit man, now obviously out of jail.
“I’ve been waiting five years,” Angelo snarled. Then he struck Laurie again, half knocking her off the chair. She ended up with her head down. There was more blood. This time it came from her nose and soaked into the carpet.
“Okay, Angelo!” Franco said. “Remember! We’ve got to talk with her.”
Angelo trembled for a moment over Laurie, as if struggling to restrain himself. Abruptly, he went back to the couch and sat down. He picked the cat back up and began roughly petting it. Tom didn’t mind and began to purr.
Laurie managed to right herself. With her hand, she felt both her lip and her nose. Her lip was already beginning to swell. She pinched her nose to halt the bleeding.
“Listen, Doctor Montgomery,” Franco said. “As you might imagine, it was very easy for us to come in here. I say this so you will comprehend how vulnerable you are. You see, we have a problem that you can help us with. We’re here to ask you nicely to leave the Franconi thing alone. Am I making myself clear?”
Laurie nodded. She was afraid not to.
“Good,” Franco said. “Now, we are very reasonable people. We’ll consider this a favor on your part, and we’re willing to do a favor in return. We happen to know who killed Mr. Franconi, and we’re willing to pass that information on to you. You see, Mr. Franconi wasn’t a nice man, so he was killed. End of story. Are you still with me?”
Laurie nodded again. She glanced at Angelo but quickly averted her eyes.
“The killer’s name is Vido Delbario,” Franco continued. “He’s not a nice person, either, although he did do the world a favor in getting rid of Franconi. I’ve even taken the trouble to write the name down.” Franco leaned forward and put a piece of paper on the coffee table. “So, a favor for a favor.”
Franco paused and looked expectantly at Laurie.
“You do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?” Franco asked after a moment of silence.
Laurie nodded for the third time.
“I mean, we’re not asking much,” Franco said. “To be blunt, Franconi was a bad guy. He killed a bunch of people and deserved to die himself. Now, as far as you are concerned, I hope you will be sensible because in a city this size there’s no way to protect yourself, and Angelo here would like no better than have his way with you. Lucky for you, our boss is not heavy-handed. He’s a negotiator. Do you understand?”
Franco paused again. Laurie felt compelled to respond. With difficulty, she managed to say she understood.
“Wonderful!” Franco said. He slapped his knees and stood up. “When I heard how intelligent and resourceful you are, Doc, I was confident we could see eye to eye.”
Franco slipped his handgun into his shoulder holster and put on his Ferragamo coat. “Come on, Angelo,” he said. “I’m sure the doctor wants to shower and have her dinner. She looks kind’a tired to me.”
Angelo got up, took a step in Laurie’s direction, and then viciously wrenched the cat’s neck. There was a sickening snap, and Tom went limp without a sound. Angelo dumped the dead cat in Laurie’s lap, and followed Franco out the front door.
“Oh, no!” Laurie whimpered as she cradled her pet of six years. She knew its neck had been cruelly broken. She stood up on rubbery legs. Out in the hall, she heard the elevator arrive and then descend.
With sudden panic she rushed to the front door and relocked all the locks while still clutching Tom’s body. Then, realizing the intruders had to have come in the back door, she raced there only to find it wide open and splintered. She forced it closed as best she could.
Back in the kitchen she took the phone off the hook with trembling hands. Her first response was to call the police, but then she hesitated, hearing Franco’s voice in the back of her mind warning her how vulnerable she was. She also could see Angelo’s horrid face and the intensity of his eyes.
Recognizing she was in shock and fighting tears, Laurie replaced the receiver. She thought she’d call Jack, but she knew he wouldn’t be home yet. So, instead of calling anyone for the moment, she tenderly packed her pet in a Styrofoam box with several trays of ice cubes. Then she went into the bathroom to check out her own wounds.
Jack’s bike ride from the morgue home was not the ordeal he expected. In fact, once he got under way, he felt better than he had for most of the day. He even allowed himself to cut through Central Park. It had been the first time he’d been in the park after dark for a year. Although he was uneasy, it was also exhilarating to sprint along the dark, winding paths.
For most of the trip, he’d pondered about GenSys and Equatorial Guinea. He wondered what it was really like in that part of Africa. He’d joked earlier with Lou that it was buggy, hot, and wet, but he didn’t know for sure.
He also thought about Ted Lynch and wondered what Ted would be able to do the following day. Before Jack had left the morgue, he’d called him at home to outline the unlikely possibility of a xenograft. Ted said that he thought he’d be able to tell by checking an area on the DNA that specified ribosomal proteins. He’d explained that the area differed considerably from species to species and that the information to make a species identification was available on a CD-ROM.
Jack turned onto his street with the idea of going to the local bookstore to see if there was any material on Equatorial Guinea. But as he approached the playground with its daily late afternoon and evening game of basketball under way, he had another idea. It occurred to him that there might be expatriate Equatoguineans in New York. After all, the city harbored people from every country in the world.
Turning his bike into the playground, Jack dismounted and leaned it up against the chain-link fence. He didn’t bother to lock it, though most people would have thought the neighborhood a risky place to leave a thousand-dollar bike. In reality, the playground was the only place in New York Jack felt he didn’t have to lock up.
Jack walked over to the sidelines and nodded to Spit and Flash, who were part of the crowd waiting to play. The game in progress swept up and down the court as the ball changed hands or baskets were made. As usual, Warren was dominating the play. Before each of his shots he’d say “money,” which was aggravating to the opponents because ninety percent of the time, the ball would sail through the basket.
A quarter hour later the game was decided by one of Warren’s “money” shots, and the losers slunk off the court. Warren caught sight of Jack and strutted over.
“Hey, man, you going to run or what?” Warren asked.
“I’m thinking about it,” Jack said. “But I’ve got a couple of questions. First of all, how about you and Natalie getting together with Laurie and me this weekend?”
“Hell, yes,” Warren said. “Anything to shut my shortie up. She’s been ragging on me fierce about you and Laurie.”
“Secondly, do you know any brothers from a tiny African country called Equatorial Guinea?”
“Man, I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth,” Warren complained. “Let me think.”
“It’s on the west coast of Africa,” Jack said. “Between Cameroon and Gabon.”
“I know where it is,” Warren said indignantly. “It was supposedly discovered by the Portuguese and colonized by the Spanish. Actually, it was discovered a long time earlier by black people.”
“I’m impressed you know of it,” Jack said. “I’d never heard of the country.”
“I’m not surprised,” Warren said. “I’m sure you didn’t take any black history courses. But to answer your question, yes, I do know a couple of people from there, and one family in particular. Their name is Ndeme. They live two doors down from you, toward the park.”