Nick aimed at Dance. McManus held his ground beside him, his finger beginning to depress for another shot, when the brakes locked up, the car spinning into a sideways skid, grinding to a halt as the tires and bare wheel screamed in protest.
Nick and McManus both focused their guns on Dance, who reached for his weapon but thought better of it.
“What the hell is going on?” McManus asked through gritted teeth, his focus never leaving Dance.
“Look at the guy in the backseat, look at the blood.”
McManus glanced over, and upon seeing Dreyfus’s condition, aimed his rifle with even more purpose at Dance’s head. “Out of the car, now.”
“Son,” Dance said as he opened his door, raising his hands to half height. “You are making a life-changing mistake.”
Nick reached into the car, thumbed the door locks, and let Dreyfus out of the vehicle.
“Don’t listen to him. Wait till you see what’s in his trunk. This so-called cop here just stole two bags of antiques from the wreckage. Antique swords and daggers and diamonds. These were someone’s belongings, someone who just died.” Nick knew the lie would be much more convincing, much more vile than the truth.
“He’s lying,” Dance shouted as he glared at Nick.
Nick answered by flicking the trunk latch. “You’ll also find some iron plates and bicycle cables he was going to tie to Mr. Dreyfus when he dropped him into the Kensico Reservoir.”
Dance’s head snap-turned to Nick in surprise.
The trunk lid rose slowly to expose the two duffel bags and the iron plates. Nick reached in and unzipped a bag to reveal an explosion of golden color-Daggers, swords, three gold-inlaid pistols. Nick pulled out the coup de grace: a black velvet pouch, which he opened, the diamonds rolling about in a brilliance of color.
“Son of a bitch,” McManus said as he jammed his rifle into Dance’s head. “Up against the car.”
Dance reluctantly complied.
With McManus holding his rifle head-high, Nick took Dance’s gun, handcuffs, and keys and patted him down, finding a small revolver in an ankle holster. He cuffed Dance’s hands in front of him.
Nick walked over to his Audi, opened the door, and threw the detective’s guns on the seat. Dance’s gaze remained fixed on his every move.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” Dance said to Nick, his eyes on fire as he stared. “We will find you, and understand this, I’m coming for you, I’ll cut the beating heart right out of your chest-”
The butt of the rifle slammed into Dance’s stomach, doubling him over. “Shut the hell up.” McManus raised his gun again, but instead just pushed him in the car. “And get in there. You talk a lot of smack for someone going to jail.”
Dance rolled about in pain in the back of his own car.
“Do you have keys for those?” McManus asked Nick, pointing at Dance’s handcuffs.
Nick passed them to the private, who stuffed them in his pocket.
“This wasn’t in the National Guard brochure when I signed up.”
“What do you do in your real life?”
“I just got my MBA, but with this economy, it doesn’t seem to matter much. I’m still flipping burgers.”
Nick nodded, rushing the conversation along. “Look, I’ve got to get him to a doctor,” Nick lied to the private as he pointed to Dreyfus. “You’re a good man, I appreciate your help. If you ever need anything…”
“Yeah,” McManus said with a dismissive smile sensing a hollow promise.
“I’m serious,” Nick said, seeing the doubt in the private’s eyes. “Give me your cell phone number.”
“It’s 914-285- 7448.”
Nick punched it into his own cell as he listened. “You have my word, I’ll hook you up.”
McManus smiled, beginning to believe Nick’s offer.
“You need to get some people from your unit over here,” Dreyfus said, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Don’t call his police buddies in on this. They’ll pull a blue code on you, saying he’s innocent.”
“I’ll radio Colonel Wells, my CO. Let him deal with this.” He looked more closely at the blood on Dreyfus’s face. “You all right?”
Dreyfus looked at Nick and nodded. “Yeah.”
NICK DROVE HIS Audi up Route 22 with Dreyfus in the seat beside him, his briefcase in his lap, having grabbed it from the trunk of the blue rental car, still parked on the access road.
“Thank you,” Paul Dreyfus said. “I owe you my life, I think.”
“You’re welcome.” Nick nodded as he cracked the ice pack he had pulled from the car’s emergency kit and handed it to Dreyfus. “Again, my condolences on the loss of your brother.”
“You knew almost exactly what that guy Dance was going to do to me.”
“It’s kind of his MO.” Nick thumbed his swollen lip, hoping to avoid further questions about his foreknowledge.
“Listen, I don’t have much time, but I really need to know what’s going on,” Nick went on. “I need to know if you know anything about this robbery.”
Dreyfus looked out the window at the vacant town of Byram Hills.
“They’re going to kill my wife.” Nick’s tone was pleading, heartfelt.
Dreyfus pressed the ice pack to his eye and nodded. “My brother was responsible for the theft. He pulled all the info from my private files. He was the brains, for lack of a better term, of everything that happened. I only found out this morning what he planned. He took a flight up, got here at 10:15. Dance picked him up at the airport and they went to Hennicot’s place to rob it. I flew up here hoping I could stop him before he made the worst mistake of his life.”
“I’m sorry.” Nick couldn’t imagine how Dreyfus was feeling about this betrayal by his own flesh and blood.
“There were five of them, including my brother, who led them down into the candy store. They got in fine, got what they were each there for, but then the whole thing dissolved into disaster. Dance and his crew thought my brother was trying to screw them, my brother accused them of being ungrateful. A textbook meltdown of power and greed.”
“There’s hundreds of millions down there,” Nick said.
“Yeah, and nobody was really aware of that except for Hennicot, his attorneys, myself and, eventually and unfortunately, my brother. The people who helped him, that guy Dance and the others, wouldn’t know value if it smacked them in the face.”
“Why would your brother involve anyone else if he had the keys to the place?”
“You always have a backup security protocol. Sadly, my brother was a fool. Thinking some alarm might ring at the police station, he figured he needed them on the inside if he was going to pull this off, so he got Dance to put together a team. They planned it out, watched the place for activity, stood guard, and hauled the stuff out. My brother promised them, lured them really, with shiny gold and diamonds. He never told them what he was going for, thought it was none of their business. He let Dance and his men take the daggers and swords while he went for the safe.”
“They couldn’t just take the Monet on the wall?”
“Nice to see someone knows their art. The idiots he hired probably thought it was a finger painting. My brother, on the other hand, knew exactly what it was but he wanted something more.”
“What do you mean, more?” Nick asked.
“There was something else besides diamonds in the safe.” Dreyfus paused.
“What?”
Dreyfus was slow in answering. “He wanted Hennicot’s mahogany lock box.”
“What box?”
“My brother didn’t even know what was in it. He had only heard rumors but thought it worth the risk.”
“He wanted that more than the Monet, all the gold and diamonds?” Nick said with confusion. “What was in the box?”
“Did you ever hear of the concept of the perception of value?”
“No,” Nick shook his head.
“If I were to hold a box in my hand that I would desperately not part with, you would be curious about its contents. If I wouldn’t sell it to you for a million dollars you would have confirmation of its value. But that value may be only personal. Maybe it’s my father’s ashes in the box. Mere dust that would float away on the wind. Worth nothing to you. But to me… its all that I have left of my father. It’s priceless.”