“Take a walk then. When you come back, we’ll know what we want to know.”
I stood up. I knew we were playing good-cop bad-cop, but did Hawk?
“Oh my God,” Kathie said. “Don’t.”
Hawk stood up too. He took off the jacket, slipped out of the shotgun shoulder rig and peeled off his shirt. Hawk had always had a lot of muscle tone. His upper body was taut and graceful. The muscles in his chest and arms swelled slightly as he made a slight loosening gesture with his shoulders. I started for the door.
“Oh God, don’t leave me with him.” Kathie slid out of the chair onto the floor and crawled after me. “Don’t let him. Don’t let him debase me. Please don’t.”
Hawk stepped between her and me. She grasped one of his legs. “Don’t, don’t, don’t.” The saliva was bubbling again at the corner of her mouth. She was gasping for breath. Her nose ran.
I said to Hawk, “I don’t want to know this bad.”
“Your biggest problem, man, you a candy ass.”
I shrugged. “I still don’t want to know this bad.” I reached down and took Kathie’s arm. “Get up,” I said. “And sit in the chair. We aren’t going to do anything bad to you.” I put her in the chair. Then I went in the bathroom and got a facecloth and soaked it in cold water and wrung it out and brought it in and washed her face with it.
Hawk looked like he was going to puke. I gave her a glass of wine. “Drink some,” I said. “And get it back together. Take your time. We got lots of time. When you’re ready, we’ll talk a little. Okay?”
Kathie nodded.
Hawk said, “You remember she blew up some guy’s wife and kids? You remember she trying to set you up in the London Zoo? You remember she gonna stand around while her boyfriend wasted you in Copenhagen? You remember what she is?”
“I’m not worrying about what she is,” I said. “I’m worrying about what I am.”
“Gonna get you killed someday, babe.”
“We’ll do it my way, Hawk.”
“You paying the money, babe, you can pick the music.” He put his shirt back on.
We ate the rest of the late night special in silence. “Okay, Kathie. Is that your name?”
“It is one of them.”
“Well, I’m used to thinking of you as Kathie so I’ll stick with it.”
She nodded. Her eyes were red but dry. She slumped as she sat.
“Tell me about you and your group, Kathie.”
“I should tell you nothing.”
“Why? Who do you owe? Who is there to be loyal to?” She looked at her lap.
“Tell me about you and your group.”
“It is Paul’s group.”
“What is it for?”
“It is for keeping Africa white.” Hawk snorted.
“Keeping,” I said.
“Keeping the control in white hands. Keeping the blacks from destroying what white civilization had made of Africa.” She wouldn’t look at Hawk.
“And how was blowing up some people in a London restaurant going to do that?”
“The British were wrong on Rhodesia and wrong on South Africa. It was punishment.”
Hawk had stood and gone to the window. He was whistling “Saint James Infirmary Blues” through his teeth as he stood looking down into the street.
“What were you doing in England?”
“Organizing the English unit. Paul sent me.”
“Any connection with IRA?”
“No.”
“Try?”
“Yes.”
“They’re only concerned with their own hatreds,” I said. “Are there many more left in England of your unit?”
“No. You… you overcame us all.”
“Gonna overcome all the rest of you too,” Hawk said from the window.
Kathie looked blank.
“What’s shaking in Copenhagen?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Why did you go to Denmark when you left London?”
“Paul was there.”
“What was he doing there?”
“He lives there sometimes. He lives many places and that’s one of them.”
“The apartment on Vester Søgade?”
“Yes.”
“And when Hawk busted that up you and he came here.”
“Yes. ”The address on the Kalverstraat?“
“Yes.”
“And you spotted us watching?”
“Paul did. He is very careful.” I looked at Hawk. Hawk said, “He pretty good too. I never saw him.”
“And?”
“And he called me on the telephone and made me stay inside. Then he watched you while you watched me. When you left for the night he came in.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“And you moved out of that place?”
“Yes, to Paul’s apartment.”
“And today while we were staking out the empty place on the Kalverstraat, Paul brought you and the two stiffs here.”
“Yes, Milo and Antone. They thought we were coming to ambush you. I did too.”
“And when you got in here Paul burned Milo and Antone?”
“Excuse me?”
“Paul killed the two men.”
“Paul and a man named Zachary. Paul said it was time for a sacrifice. Then he bound me and gagged me and left me for you. He said he was sorry.”
“Where’s the apartment?”
“It doesn’t matter. They won’t be there.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“It’s on the Prinsengracht.” She told us the number. I looked at Hawk. He nodded, slipped into the shotgun rig, put on his jacket and went out. Hawk needed a shotgun less than most. “What are Paul’s plans now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You must know something. Until last night you were his darling.” Her eyes filled. “And now you aren’t. You should start getting used to that.” She nodded. “So being as you were his darling up till today, didn’t he tell you anything about his plans?”
“He told no one. When he was ready we were told what to do, but not before.”
“So you didn’t know what was coming down tomorrow?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You didn’t even know what was going to be done tomorrow.”
“That is right.”
“And you don’t think he’s at the place on Prinsengracht?”
“No. No one will be there when the black man gets there.”
“His name is Hawk,” I said. She nodded. “If the police penetrated your organization, or if they raided the apartment on Prinsengracht, where would the survivors meet?”
“We have a calling system. Each person has two people to call.”
“Who were you supposed to call?”
“Milo and Antone.”
“Balls.”
“I cannot help you.”
“Maybe you can’t,” I said. Maybe I’d used her up. And maybe she couldn’t.
20
Hawk was back in less than an hour. When he came in he shook his head. “Gone?” I said. “
Uh huh.“
“Clues?” Hawk said, “Clues?”
“You know,” I said, “like an airplane schedule with a flight to Beirut underlined. A hotel confirmation slip from the Paris Hilton. Some tourist brochures from Orange County, California. A tinkling piano in the next apartment. Clues.”
“No clues, man.”
“Anyone see them leave?”
“Nope.”
“So the only thing we know for sure is he isn’t in his place on Prinsengracht, and he isn’t here in this room.”
“He wasn’t when I looked. She tell you anything?”
“Everything she knows.”
“Maybe you believe that, babe. I don’t.”
“We’ve been trying. You want some more wine? I ordered some while you were gone.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” I poured some for Hawk and some for Kathie. “Okay, kid,” I said to Kathie. “He’s gone and all we’ve got is you. Where might he be?”
“He could be anywhere,” she said. Her face was a little flushed. She’d had a lot of wine. “He can go anywhere in the world.”
“Phony passport?”
“Yes. I don’t know how many. Many.” Hawk had taken off his coat and hung the shotgun rig from the corner of a chair. He was leaning far back with his Frye boots crossed on the bureau and the glass of red wine balanced on his chest. His eyes almost closed. “Where would the places be that he wouldn’t go?”