“All I can say, doc, is this: I don't know a better man than your husband, and I've been around the block a few times. He's put it on the line more than the times you know about, but there's people around who don't like him very much, and those people are trying to get him in a way that he can't deal with. It's typical, dirty, underhanded crap, but Jack's not the kind of guy who can deal with that. He plays by the rules, you see. So, it's eating him up.”
Cathy was weeping now. Clark handed her a handkerchief.
“I figured you should know. If you think it's necessary, I want you to check it out as much as you think you have to. That's your decision, and I want you to make the call without worrying about me or Ding or anybody else, okay? I'll take you to see Carol Zimmer and the kids. If I lose my job — the hell with it. I've been in the business too damned long anyway.”
“Christmas presents?”
“For the Zimmer kids? Yeah, I helped wrap them. Your husband can't wrap presents worth a damn, but I suppose you know that. I even delivered some of my own. My two are too grown for fun presents, and they're great kids, the Zimmers. It's nice being an uncle,” John added, with a genuine smile.
“All a lie?”
“I don't know about the financial stuff, just the other things. And they tried to get at him through you, judging by what you just said.”
The tears stopped at that moment. Cathy wiped her eyes and looked up. “You're right. You said you don't know who's doing this?”
“I'm planning to find out,” Clark promised her. Her demeanor had changed completely. This was some broad.
“I want you to let me know. And I want to meet the Zimmer family.”
“When do you get off work?”
“I have to make a few phone calls and some notes — say an hour?”
“I can squeeze that in, but I may have to leave early. They have a 7-Eleven about ten miles from your place.”
“I know it's close, but not exactly where.”
“You can follow me down.”
“Let's go.” Cathy led them out, or tried to. Chavez beat her out the door, and held the point all the way back to the hospital. He and Clark decided to stay outside and get some air, then spotted two youths sitting on their car.
It was strange, John Clark thought as he crossed the street. At the beginning Caroline Ryan had been the angry one, angry and betrayed. He'd been the voice of understanding. Now she was feeling much better — though worse in another way — but he had absorbed all of her anger. It was a little too much to bear, and there in front of him was an outlet for it.
“Off the car, punk!”
“Christ, John!” Ding said behind him.
“Says who!” the youth said, hardly turning to see the man approaching. He got his head around just in time to see the hand grasp his shoulder. Then the world rotated and the brick wall of a building approached his face very rapidly. Fortunately, his boom-box absorbed most of the impact, which, however, had a negative effect on the boom-box.
“Motherfucker!” the kid snarled, coming out with a knife. His companion was six feet away, and also had a knife out.
Clark just smiled at them. “Who's first?”
The thought of avenging his appliance died a quick death. Both youths knew danger when they saw it.
“You lucky I don't have my gun, man!”
“You can leave the knives, too.”
“You a cop?”
“No, I am not a policeman,” Clark said, walking over with his hand out. Chavez backed him up, his coat opened, as both youths noticed. They dropped their knives and started walking away.
“What the hell is—”
Clark turned to see a policeman approaching, with a large dog. Both were fully alert. John pulled out his CIA pass. “I didn't like their attitude.”
Chavez handed the knives over. “They dropped these, sir.”
“You really should leave that sort of thing to us.”
“Yes, sir,” Clark agreed. “You're right. Nice dog you have there.”
The cop pocketed the knives. “Have a good one,” he said, wondering what the hell this had been about.
“You, too, officer.” Clark paused and turned to Chavez. “God damn, that felt good.”
“Ready to go to Mexico, John?”
“Yeah. I just hate leaving unfinished business behind, you know?”
“So, who's trying to fuck him over?”
“Not sure.”
“Bull,” Ding observed.
“Won't be sure until I talk to Holtzman.”
“You say so, man. I like her,” he added. “That's some lady.”
“Yeah, she is. Just what he needs to set things straight.”
“You think she'll call that Murray guy?”
“Does it matter?”
“No.” Chavez looked up the street. “A question of honor, Mr. C.”
“I knew you'd understand, Ding.”
Jacqueline Zimmer was a beautiful child, Cathy thought, holding her. She wanted another, must have another. Jack would give her one, maybe another girl if they were lucky. “We hear so much 'bout you!” Carol said. “You doctor?”
“Yes, I teach doctors, I'm a professor of surgery.”
“My oldes' son must meet you. He want to be doctor. He student at Georgetown.”
“Maybe I can help him a little. Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes.”
“Your husband…”
“Buck? He die. I don't know all the things, just that he die — on duty, yes? Is secret thing. Very hard for me,” Carol said soberly, but without overt grief. She was over that now. “Buck was a very good man. So your husban'. You be nice to him,” Mrs. Zimmer added.
“Oh, I will,” Cathy promised. “Now, we have to make this a secret?”
“What secret?”
“Jack doesn't know that I know about you.”
“Oh? I know there are many secret, but — okay, I un'erstan'. I keep this secret, too.”
“I will talk to Jack about that. I think you should come to our house and meet our children. But for now, we keep the secret?”
“Yes, okay. We surprise him?”
“Right.” Cathy smiled as she handed the child back. “I will see you again, soon.”
“Feel better, doc?” Clark asked her out in the parking lot.
“Thank you…?”
“Call me John.”
“Thanks, John.” It was the warmest smile since his kids at Christmas.
“Any time.”
Clark drove west on Route 50. Cathy turned east for home. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel of her car. The anger was back now. For the most part, she was angry at herself. How could she have thought that of Jack? She'd been very foolish, very small, and so disgustingly selfish. But it wasn't really her fault. Someone else had invaded their household, she decided as she pulled into the garage. She was on the phone almost immediately. She had to do one more thing. She had to be completely certain.
“Hi, Dan.”
“Cathy! How's the eye business, kid?” Murray asked.
“Got a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
She'd already decided how to do it. There's a problem with Jack…"
Murray 's voice became guarded. “What is it?”
“He's having nightmares,” Cathy said. It wasn't a lie, but what followed was. “Something about a helicopter, and Buck somebody… I can't ask him about it, but—”
Murray cut her off. “Cathy, I can't talk about it over the phone. That's a business matter, kid.”
“Really?”
“Really, Cathy. It's something I know about, but I cannot discuss it with you. I'm sorry, but that's the way it has to be. It's business.”
Cathy went on with a touch of alarm in her voice. “It's not something that's happening now — I mean—”