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wanted most when he got to Miami?
Jack hesitated. The story about the boat fit Kimmel s theory that the
kidnapper was Esteban. But he wasn t sure whether this was meant to be a
monologue or a dialogue.  You tell me.
 Awhore, you dumb shit. And he was willing to pay for it. But there are so
many whores out there who just won t admit what they are. Just pick one, I
told him. He did, but he still needed encouragement. So I went with him, to
show him how easy it was.
 You and Fernandez did ittogether ?
 Raul didn tkill anyone. The knife was just to scare her. But the stupid
bitch panicked and pulled off his mask. Even then, Raulstill didn t want to
kill her. I was saving his ass by doing it. So how do you think it felt whenhe
was the one arrested for murder? I did everything I could to keep him from
getting the chair. I even confessed! But you didn t doyour part, Swyteck. The
governor, the man who could stop it all, was your father, and you didnothing.

Jack resisted the temptation to educate the kidnapper, but he felt a certain
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vindication not for himself, but for his father. Since the murder had begun as
a rape or attempted rape by Raul Fernandez, Fernandez was as guilty as the man
who had slit her throat. By law, anyone who committed a felony that brought
about an unintended death was guilty of murder, even if the murder was
committed by an accomplice. It was called  felony murder. It was a capital
crime. And most important, it meant that his father hadnot executed an
innocent man after all.
 So you and Raul were prison buddies. Is that it?
 Prison buddies, he said with disdain.  What do you think we were a couple
of fags, or something? Raul was my brother, you son of bitch. You fucking
killed my little brother.
Jack took a deep breath. It didn t seem possible, but the stakes had suddenly
risen.  I m approaching William Street.
 Stop now. Face south. Do you see it?
 See what?
 The house on the corner.
Jack peered through the wrought-iron fence toward a stately old Queen
Anne-style Victorian mansion that was nearly hidden from view by thick
tropical foliage and royal poinciana trees. It was a three-story white frame
house with a widow s walk and a spacious sitting porch out front, due for a
paint job but otherwise in good repair. Blue shutters framed the windows,
purely for decoration. But the windows themselves and even the doors were
covered with corrugated aluminum storm shutters the kind that winter residents
installed to protect their property during the June-to-November hurricane
season.
 I see it, said Jack.  It s storm-proofed.
 Yes, replied the voice on the other end of the line.  But your girlfriend s
inside. And she s not coming out. You have to go in and get her. And don t
even think about calling the police to go in and get her for you. It s a big
old house, and she s very well hidden. Maybe she s in the attic. Maybe she s
under the floorboards. The only way you ll find her alive is if you stay on
the phone and listen to me. I ll direct you right to her. But you have to move
fast, Swyteck. I fed her arsenic exactly five minutes ago.
 You bastard! You said you wouldn t hurt her!
 Ididn t hurt her, he said sharply.  The only one who can hurt her isyou.
You ll kill her, unless you do as I say. She can last twenty minutes without
an antidote. The sooner you find her, the sooner you can call the paramedics.
The back door is open. I took the storm shutters off. So go get her, Jacky
Boy. And stay on that phone.
Jack felt anger, fear, and a flood of other emotions, but he realized he had
no time to consider his options. He yanked open the squeaky iron gate,
sprinted up the brick driveway, and leaped over a three-foot hedge on his way
to the back door the only way into the desolate Key West mansion.
Chapter 52
"
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Harold Swyteck was pacing nervously outside the waterfront warehouse where
he d been instructed to deliver the ransom. He was alone, but the noise from
the nearby festival made it sound like he was in the Orange Bowl on New Year s
night. He was as close as he could be to the madness on Duval Street and still
be in relative seclusion. Occasionally someone in costume passed by, coming or
going to the dimly lit parking lot behind the old warehouse to have sex, take
a leak, or smoke a joint.
The governor checked his watch. It was almost 1:00A.M. , and he still hadn t
heard from Jack or the kidnapper. Strange, he thought. He was alone in the
dark with a suitcase full of money, and he wasn t the least bit concerned
about himself or the cash. He was worried about Jack. He stopped pacing and
lifted the receiver on the pay phone to make sure it was still working. He got
a dial tone, then hung up.
He sighed heavily. He was trying to stay alert, but the noise from the
festival was impossible to block out. Laughter, screaming, and every kind of
music, from kazoos to strolling violins, had him constantly on edge. A rock
band was blasting from the nearby Pier House Hotel. He could hear the
bone-rattling bass and the beat of the drum. It was annoying at first, like a
dripping faucet in the night. Then it became a thunder in his brain. He wished
it would stop, but the pounding continued. He shook his head and then he froze
as he realized that the bass and drum were coming from one direction, but
thereal pounding was coming from the opposite direction. He wheeled and
checked behind him. The pounding was right there, coming from somewhere near
the pay phone.
 Who s there? he called out. No one replied. The pounding grew louder and
more frantic by the second, like the palpitations of his heart. He took two
steps forward, then stopped. There was an old, rusted van parked just beyond
the telephone. The rear doors bulged with each thudding beat. The pounding was
coming from inside. It was like a kicking noise. Someone was trying to get
out! The metal doors flew open. The governor drew his gun.
 Freeze! he shouted.  Who s there?
The violent motion stopped, but there was no reply. The governor stepped
closer to the van. He knew it would do no good to ask again. If he wanted an
answer, he d have to go in and get it.
Chapter 53
"
Jack threw open the back door of the old mansion and rushed into a pitch-dark [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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