But LaGrange had other ideas.
He had already fired his Ruger SR9, the oversize trigger an easy squeeze in his large hands. The round caught Torenzi in the stomach, sending blood spurting out of his mouth as he keeled over on one side.
Stepping forward, LaGrange quickly pumped two more shots into Torenzi’s chest before waiting to see if yet another would be required.
It wasn’t.
Torenzi had slid onto his back, arms spread, the gun resting in the palm of his hand, never to be fired again. His eyes flickered as he drew a last breath, his chest heaving upward before slowly deflating.
Then he was gone, straight to hell. Do not pass Go.
“HELLO, MR. DANIELS, I’m Marie McCormick,” said my new nurse for the night. She came into my room at Lenox Hill Hospital with a welcome smile and an even more welcome cup filled with two Vicodin. This was my second hospital of the day. After finally being stitched up, I was being “kept for observation,” which I didn’t mind so much since my apartment was still a police crime scene.
“Boy, am I glad to see you, Marie,” I said.
Not just because of the good meds, either. The day nurse assigned to my room had all the charm and charisma of the leaders of the Spanish Inquisition. She was also a stickler for the rules. Visiting hours ended at 8:30 and at 8:31 she had shooed Courtney out as if she were a fox in a henhouse. How could anybody with a heart do that? Couldn’t she see how good Courtney and I were together? Heck, we were holding hands, and had been for half an hour.
Before I could tell Nurse Ratched where to shove her rules, Courtney announced she had to be somewhere anyway. “I’ve got to go put the finishing touches on something,” she said. “Sorry, Nick. I’ll be back in the morning.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Something kind of interesting. But I can’t tell you yet. I don’t want to jinx it.”
“So I’m a jinx, huh?”
It’s hardly what she meant, but it’s not like I could blame her or anyone else for thinking that, especially anyone who happened to tune in to the news.
Clearly, Nurse Marie had watched a little of the coverage before coming on duty.
“You’re what my aunt Peggy up in Boston calls a trouble magnet,” she joked, wrapping a blood pressure sleeve around my arm. “Of course, she should talk, the big dope. She’s been married and divorced three times to the biggest losers on the planet.”
My cracked ribs made it hurt to laugh but I couldn’t help it. Marie was my kind of woman. Down-to-earth and funny.
“Say, where’s that brave little niece of yours?” she asked. “I saw her being interviewed.”
“She’s back home safe with her mother,” I said. “Right where she should be.”
Agent Keller had personally driven her back to Weston. He certainly knew the way. For good measure he was spending the night – even though the Bureau had already assigned four agents to guard the house. “Just in case,” he said. “I owe Elizabeth.”
But if you ask me, I saw the way he’d looked at Kate when she’d arrived at the train tracks with Courtney courtesy of a Connecticut state trooper. Turns out Keller’s a single guy. Hey, you never know.
Of course, I’m a single guy, too, but that was hard to tell, given the way Courtney and I practically ran into each other’s arms and kissed like crazy by those same train tracks. It was movie-of-the-week mushy but I loved every second of it. As for Elizabeth, time will tell how she deals with everything that happened. She didn’t have a scratch on her, but the mental scars could be another story. Then again, if there’s anyone who can handle it, she’s the one. The fact that she wanted to give interviews afterward was a pretty encouraging sign.
I was shooting the breeze with Marie a little more when I heard another voice at the door. “Knock, knock,” said David Sorren.
Marie turned to him as he strolled in. “You must be somebody important because that cop posted outside the door isn’t supposed to let anyone by him.”
“Yeah, he’s somebody important,” I assured Marie. “In fact, you might be looking at the next mayor of this city.”
David introduced himself and was as pleasant as a good politician could be with her. Still, I could tell he wanted to speak to me privately. Marie picked up on it, too. She left us alone.
David removed his jacket, placing it on the chair in the corner. Then he turned to me with what he knew was some very good news.
“Bruno Torenzi is dead,” he announced. “I wanted to tell you myself, Nick. Hope that gets your vote come the next election.”
I shook my head, but I was grinning. “Sorry. I’m a Democrat, David.”
Sorren explained how Torenzi had been found during a sweep of the surrounding area near the blown-up train. He said there had been another dead body with him, a Russian crime boss. Go figure.
“So, wait… who did Torenzi work for? Was it D’zorio – or this guy Belova?” I asked.
“Good question. It was probably D’zorio, but for all I know right now they could’ve been working together. Setting up Eddie Pinero was in both their interests. Anyway, we’ll sort it all out soon enough, especially when we bring in that manager from Lombardo’s who mixed it up with you. He was on somebody’s payroll.”
Sorren glanced back at my door. “In the meantime, with Torenzi, D’zorio, and Belova out of the picture, the need for that cop outside your door just went down dramatically. Same goes for at your apartment, Nick.”
“Hallelujah,” I said. “Oh, and don’t forget to put Carmine Zambratta on that list. He’s gone, too.”
“You’re right,” said Sorren. “In fact, that reminds me – there’s one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s about Dwayne Robinson. As you probably suspected, he didn’t commit suicide. As soon as the news about D’zorio’s death hit the airwaves, a guy who lived in the building across the street from Robinson came forward to say he saw Zambratta throw him over the railing.”
“Why didn’t the neighbor say anything before? Not very neighborly.”
“He was too scared. He knew who Zambratta was and what he was capable of. Hell, he witnessed it, didn’t he?”
“I guess you’re right,” I said.
Sorren folded his arms, hesitating for a moment. “Listen, Nick, I owe you an apology. I really do. You were way out in front on this whole thing and I should’ve seen that better. Instead of helping you at first I gave you a hard time, didn’t I?”
I smiled. “Yeah, you did,” I said. “What’s important now, though, is that it’s over.”
We shook hands. Then we both shook our heads, chuckling in disbelief. It was an amazing end to an amazing day, and to an amazing story.
But I should’ve known better, I guess. The day wasn’t actually over. It was still a little before midnight. Plenty of time for more fun and games.
THE VICODIN WERE doing their thing, easing the pain while making me drowsy. Minutes after David Sorren left, I started to doze off. I barely heard the creak of the door opening again.
It was Marie, I assumed. I didn’t bother to look over right away – or even open my eyes. But as she walked toward me my ears perked up. This wasn’t the sound of soft rubber soles. I was hearing heels – heavy ones. These shoes belonged to a man. What man was that?
My eyes shot open.
“Hello, Nick,” said Ian LaGrange. Quick as could be, he grabbed the cord of my call button and sliced through it with a knife.
Then he jammed the tip of the knife underneath my chin. I could feel the blade pierce my flesh enough to send blood trickling down over my Adam’s apple.