The gun went off like a live thing jumping in his hand. He didn't feel his finger make the pull. It just seemed to explode on its own, blasting a hole in the wall a foot above the dented metal desk. There was no one behind it, no one to take that bullet between the eyes.
His arm shook as he lowered the gun, as he stared at the empty space, the empty room. They'd call him a fool now, and laugh. That would make T-Bone a fool, and that couldn't be.
He had to do something. Something big.
When the inner door opened and the man stepped up, he knew what it was he had to do.
"HT's name is Charles Johnson, street name Razz." Detective Ricks from the Gang Unit filled Phoebe in. "Shots were fired, no reported injuries. He's got four people in there."
"What does he want?"
"Blood. There was a gun battle last night-west side Posse-the HT's gang, and east side Lords. HT's older brother took three bullets. He's critical. This Razz wants us to find the guy he claims did it. One Jerome Clip Sagget. We send Sagget in, he'll send the hostages out."
"How old is he?"
"Sixteen. No violent knocks on his record. Petty shit up till now. Older brother's a different matter. Serious badass."
"Okay." Phoebe studied the board, the log. At the table of the diner set up for communications, she opened her kit. "He's been talking to you?"
"Playing the same tune, but yeah. He's in the first stage. Give me what I want or there'll be hell to pay. He set a deadline, it's coming up in twenty."
"All right." She picked up the phone. He answered on the first ring. "You got that motherfucker?"
"Razz, this is Phoebe MacNamara. I'm a negotiator with the police."
"Fuck you, bitch."
There was fury in the voice, but there was fear under it. "You sound angry. I understand that. I have a brother, too."
"You think I give rat shit about your brother? You best be bringing in the motherfucker shot him, or I'm doing one of these assholes in here."
"We're trying to work on that, Razz. For right now, can you tell me, is everyone all right in there? Does anyone need medical attention?"
"Gonna need it. Gonna need a goddamn body bag, is what." His voice pitched up and down with terror and rage.
"You haven't hurt anyone yet, Razz, is that right? So far we're trying to find a way to make this right for everyone."
"Not gonna be right until I put a bullet in that Clip's brain. When that's done, it's all done."
"I hear that you want to punish the person you believe hurt your brother."
"I know what he did. My family told me. You think my family's liars?"
"Are you saying your family saw what happened to T-Bone?"
"Fucking right. Two more of 'em shot up, but T-Bone, he's next to dead. And the fucker did it to him's gonna face me. You bring him here, you hear what I'm saying? You bring him here or somebody dies." Family =Gang, she wrote on her pad. Pride amp; revenge. "You want us to find this man and bring him to you, so you can punish him yourself."
"How many times I got to say it?"
"I don't want to misunderstand you, Razz. I'm trying to understand what those people in there have to do with your brother being hurt. Do you think they were involved?"
"Don't mean a thing."
"They don't mean anything?"
"Collateral damage. I'll put a bullet in one right now, you don't think I mean what I say."
"I know you mean what you say, Razz. I need you to understand, Razz, that if you hurt anyone in there, we're not going to be able to work this out, not going to be able to try to get you what you want. I'm trying to contact the hospital, too. To contact the doctors who're taking care of your brother. I thought you might want to know how he's doing. Have you seen him today?"
She guided him into talking about his brother, through the first deadline. Hero worship. Absolute loyalty. When he spoke of his mother crying by his brother's bed, she nudged more out of him. No other sibs, no father in the picture.
Find the mother now! she scribbled on a piece of paper, and pushed it into Ricks's hand.
"Y'all getting hungry in there, Razz? I can send in some sandwiches."
"I got plenty of beer and chips. You think I'm stupid? You think I don't watch TV? Nobody comes in here, nobody but Clip."
"No one's coming in unless you okay it."
"Maybe I won't kill these assholes. Maybe I will. But they gonna be lying facedown in their own piss before long. I'm tired of talking to you. You got something else to say, you call back and tell me you've got that motherfucker."
When he broke the connection, Phoebe eased back. "Any progress locating this Clip?"
"He's gone under. We've got people on it."
"If we can tell the HT that Sagget's in custody, that he's being held, that may open a door. I want to know the minute he's found."
She glanced at the white-faced clock on the wall. Four forty-five. Odds were she was going to be late for dinner.
Duncan was pretty pleased with himself when he rang the bell on Jones Street. He was even more pleased when Essie answered it and the big smile broke across her face.
"Oh my goodness! Who's back there?"
He spoke from behind an enormous basket of red poppies. "Three guesses. Any place special you want these?"
"Just set them down right here until we figure that out. Aren't they beautiful! Come right into the parlor. You're right on time. Wine, too?"
"I don't often get invited to have dinner with four beautiful women. It's an occasion for me."
"For us, too." She took the wine, gestured. "You haven't met my daughter-in-law, have you? Josie, this is Duncan Swift."
"Make that five beautiful women. Nice to meet you."
"Fifth one's spoken for," Carter said as he carried in a tray of canapes. Carly was right behind him with a second, smaller tray. "How's it going, Duncan?"
"Going good. Hey, Carly."
"Mama's going to be late. She's working."
"I guess that happens. Looks like enough food in here to hold me awhile. Oh, I got you something."
Her gaze arrowed straight to the little pink gift bag he held. "A present?"
"A token for one of my hostesses."
"Thank you very much," she said with formal politeness under her grandmother's eagle eye. Then squealed with delight when she pulled out the hair tie. It looked like a bouquet-purple and white violets with a filmy trail of white ribbons.
"It's beautiful! I love it. Thank you!" Formality forgotten, Carly threw her arms around Duncan's waist, then danced back. "Can I go put it on? Gran, please, can I go put it on right now?"
"Run on then."
Carly made the dash, stopping once to toss Duncan a big smile over her shoulder.
"Aren't you the clever one?" Essie commented. "So they say."
By six-fifteen, Phoebe called home again and told Ava not to hold dinner on her account. Even if things resolved in the best possible way, there was no point in holding everyone else up while she dealt with the paperwork and debriefings.
She downed iced coffee, grateful someone had the foresight to make use of the diner's kitchen. Across from her sat Opal Johnson, Razz's mother. It had taken some time to track her down as she'd left her older son's bedside to sit on a bench outside the hospital and pray for his life.
Now she was here, in a diner filled with cops, struggling for her other child.
Progress had been made. Though he still refused to come out or release any hostages, Phoebe heard the changes in his voice, in his words.
His resolve was weakening. "He's going to jail, isn't he?"
"He'll be alive," Phoebe said. "He hasn't hurt anyone yet."
Opal stared blindly out the diner's window. She was stick thin, her dark face splotched from hours of weeping, her eyes exhausted from worry. "I did my best. I did all I knew. Work two jobs, made those boys go to school, to church. But my Franklin, he just goes his own way. And he took Charlie right along with him. Posse." She spat the word out. "I couldn't hold off against that."