Harry knelt in the dense undergrowth justbeyond the soft shoulder of a rural two-lane road. The night wasn't thatchilly, but he was soaked through and shivering. Thank God Phil had been home.Thank God he hadn't hesitated in agreeing to help. Now, if he would only showup. Accessory to murder was nothing he wanted to expose his brother to. Butuntil he found Anton Perchek and a way to bring him down, staying free was theonly realistic chance he had.
The biggest problem, since he didn't knowexactly where he was calling Phil from, and Phil didn't know the Fort Lee areawell at all, was finding a way to meet up. It was finally left to Harry tochoose the right person to bribe into driving him to a spot they both knew — alittle-traveled roadway that swung past a power substation not far from theirchildhood home in Montclair. It was the place where Harry first took hisyounger brother to introduce him to beer and cigarettes, only to find that Philwas already well acquainted with both.
The lucky man Harry selected was amotorcyclist on a Harley chopper. Harry watched from the woods beside a servicestation as the biker lumbered into the restroom and called him over as soon ashe came out. The man was well tattooed and grizzly bear huge — as unlikely tobe frightened off by Harry as he was to be tight with the police. The fare forthe half-hour ride was agreed upon in seconds — a thousand dollars. Over hisyears in medicine, Harry had seen the ravages of bike accidents often enough tohave developed a healthy fear of ever riding on what the ER docs cynicallyreferred to as 'donorcycles.' But the biker, whose name was Claude, was worththe risk. Harry donned the spare Panzer Division helmet, hunched as low as theraised passenger seat would allow, clenched his teeth, and wrapped his armsaround the bear.
'Hey, if you're gonna get that friendly, Iwant another hundred,' the biker said, laughing.
'You don't speed and I won't get fresh,'Harry replied.
Within the first mile or two, they hadpassed four police cars heading in the opposite direction.
'You must be some hot stuff,' Claudecalled over his shoulder.
'Parking tickets,' Harry yelled back.
During the half hour Harry had beencrouched in the bushes by the substation, six cars had passed, one of them aMontclair police cruiser. Now, as he wiped a muddy hand across his forehead, hewondered what his next move should be. If there was any workable optionavailable to him, any at all, his mind hadn't settled on it yet. On the plusside, he had miraculously made it through the trap Perchek had set for him inFort Lee. Still, by the time the forty-minute ride was over, Harry's teeth werechattering mercilessly. He tipped the biker with a hundred-dollar bill ascasually as if it were a one and accepted a death's-head pin in return. Now, asthe fear that he and Phil had somehow miscommunicated took hold, he wished hehad kept Claude around.
There were bends in the road about fiftyyards in either direction from where Harry was concealed. The headlights ofapproaching cars reflected off the trees several seconds before they actuallycame into sight. Each time, as soon as he heard the engine noises or saw thereflected light, he flattened down in the shallow swale beside the road. Andeach time he got a bit filthier and, if possible, a bit more sodden.
Through the darkness and the persistentdrizzle, he heard engine noise to his left. Moments later, reflected lightshimmered high off the trees. A truck, he thought, burrowing back undercover. What it was instead was a mobile home, as large as a bus, moving alongslowly, followed closely by a car. Harry froze as the two-vehicle caravanslowed even more and then stopped not ten feet away. Both drivers cut theirengines and killed their headlights. Immediately, heavy darkness settled inagain. The interior light on the massive RV flashed on and off as the dooropened and closed. For several seconds there was dense silence. Then Philcalled out.
'Harry? You out there?'
Before he could even reply, Harry had towork the immense tension from his muscles and his jaw. He worried in passingabout the second car, but at this point he had to trust that Phil knew what hewas doing.
'Right here, bro,' he said.
He pushed himself to his feet and made anineffectual stab at brushing some mud off. Phil met him at the front of the RV,which Harry could see now was a Winnebago.
'You okay?'
'Soaked, scared to death. Is that the sameas okay?'
'Well, believe it or not, I have a warm-upsuit inside that'll fit you.'
'Who's in the car?'
'It's Ziggy White. Remember him?'
'The one who used to bet people he coulddrive a mile blindfolded?'
'I didn't want him to come with me, but heinsisted. He can't get enough of living on the edge — you'd think being anoptions trader would do it. Besides, he says he'll never forget that you oncekept Bumpy Giannetti from beating the snot out of him.'
'Thank Ziggy for me,' Harry said as Philhelped him up the step. 'But tell him that if that's really the case, Iprobably just showed up at the right moment and presented Bumpy with a punchingbag less likely to hit back.'
The interior of the Winnebago was as grandas any hotel Harry had ever stayed in.
'This is incredible,' he said, strippingoff his shirt. 'Is this yours?'
'For the time being, it's yours. TheLuxor. Thirty-seven feet of everything you could ever ask for in a motor home.Two TVs with a dish on the roof, fax, phone, bar, ice maker, stereo system,washer/dryer, driver and passenger airbags, cherrywood cabinets. Youtold me you needed a car, but I got to thinking that you also needed a safeplace to stay. Then I realized I had both all rolled up in one. We lease thisbaby from time to time to some people who need a hotel room, but don't want ahotel. It's registered to my corporation. The registration's in the glovecompartment, along with a couple of sheets on where you can and can't take itand park it. My beeper number's there, too. You can reach me twenty-four hoursa day.'
'Phil, I … thanks. Thanks a lot. This isperfect. How much does it-'
'Hey,' Phil said, stopping him with araised hand. 'If you have to ask, you really don't want to know.'
Harry toweled off and pulled the stacks ofsoggy bills from his pockets.
'You neglected to mention theall-important microwave,' he said.
'Just don't do them all at once.' Philtossed over the black Nike warm-up suit. 'I don't think I could stand thethought of all that cash vaporizing in my RV. The fridge is pretty well stockedand there are some clothes in the closet that I think will fit you. Just becareful and don't stay in one place too long. Is there anything else you need?'
Harry thought for a moment, then took apen and paper from the small mahogany writing desk and dashed off a note toMaura.
'The doorman at my co-op will take this upto her,' he said. 'Then I want you to back off and keep out of this. You'vedone way more than enough.'
Phil slipped the letter into his pocket.
'We've had a funny life, Harry,' he said.'I won't deny that over the years, especially after you won those medals inVietnam, I pushed myself in business because I wanted to beat you out atsomething.'
'Well, you did.'
'So what? The point is it was always justsomething inside me. You never did or said anything to make me feel I had totop you. What difference does it make anyhow? It's not a contest. It never hasbeen. It's our lives. You're my only brother, Harry. I don't want to lose you.'
Harry stared at his brother through thedim light. It was the first time he had ever heard Phil talk this way. Heleaned against the soft, leather headrest of the passenger seat.
'Remember that day in front of my officewhen you told me not to worry, that something would come along for me to pushagainst? Well, something has, Phil. A monster. His name's Anton Perchek. He'san M.D. And I'm not going to stop pushing against him until he's finished or Iam.' He wrote the name down and passed it over. 'If anything happens to me,this is the man who killed Evie. He also killed Caspar Sidonis, Andy Barlow,one of my favorite patients, and God only knows how many other people. The Fedsknow who he is, but they might not admit it. I think he did some torture workfor the CIA. He's supposed to have died years ago, but they have a fingerprintof his taken from Evie's hospital room.