An Absence of Light

“It’s me,” Redden said. “Okay, look, I’m coming to pick you up. That was Wade. The whole thing’s been changed-again. New schedule. No problem about picking you up now. You’re a lucky son of a bitch, Ledet. This is better anyway. I can refuel at Bayfield and we’ll have time to get something to eat before we have to be in the air again.”

“Bayfield? I thought you were at Gulf.”

“No, man, change of plans. I didn’t take the Beechcraft. We got cargo. I’m in the PC, needed the extra muscle.”

“Oh,” Ledet said, looking at Graver for vindication. “Okay. Glad we got that straight Then when you going to be there?” Ledet asked.

“Uh, well, there’s plenty of time now so, let’s see, it’s almost three now. Why don’t you pick me up out there at… five. We’ll run over to Kemah for some crab before we start this little circus the Greek’s got planned. Gonna be a long night, Ricky. Hope you’re rested up.”

“Okay, five o’clock,” Ledet said, and hung up. He looked at Graver for approval.

“What’s a PC?” Graver asked.

“It’s a Pilatus PC-12 turboprop, a Swiss aircraft. A very fine piece of equipment.”

“What did he mean ‘extra muscle’?”

“The PC’s a power plane. It’s new, a corporate class aircraft, but a workhorse. It’s got a range of 1700 nautical miles, airspeed of 270 knots, and can carry up to a ton in payload-people, cargo, whatever, depending on whether you put in seats or decking.”

“Put your hands out,” Graver said, and when Ledet did Graver snapped the cuffs again and sat down in one of the rattan chairs, looking at Ledet on the floor.

“That’s good,” Neuman said, coming back into the room.

Graver nodded, but his eyes had shifted to the white heat outside, beyond the sunless rooms and the shady porch. No one said anything as Graver stared outside. The afternoon was hot enough now that you could smell it, the vegetation and soil and bay water heated to the point that they exuded odors all their own, odors that never occurred at any other time than on the most sweltering days of summer. It was hot even in the house now, the temperature outside outstripping the natural coolness inherent to the marriage of shadow and breeze. Now the hot breath off the bay intruded to the point of rudeness, leaving them no recourse but to sweat and wish it was later in the afternoon.

“Look, how much longer am I supposed to stay back there?” Alice asked, standing in the doorway to the main room. She was holding onto the door frame with one hand, standing on one foot, the other foot pulled up and pressed against the inside of her knee.

“Not much longer,” Neuman said.

“It’s three o’clock,” she said. “Right at it, anyway.”

“Maybe an hour,” Neuman said, not having any idea.

“An hour? God dog!” She wheeled around in exasperation and returned to the bedroom.

Graver looked at Neuman, nodded his head sideways toward the porch and then got up and walked back through the kitchen again carrying his handset, with Neuman following. When he got outside he dialed Arnette.

“I’ve got some news for you,” Arnette said, and she told him what had happened at Connie’s condominium. “They just walked out, Marcus,” she said. “There really wasn’t anything else they could do.”

“Goddamn.” The deaths made Graver furious. He didn’t feel exactly responsible for them, but he did feel connected to them somehow. They were deaths for which he felt a sense of guilt. Kalatis was at the root of two more acts of despair. The man was the angel of despair.

“What’s happened to Kalatis’s ‘veiled’ hits?” he asked. “A bomb, now this. What’s going on here?”

“I’m wondering if it’s him,” Arnette said.

“Who, then? Geis?”

“Maybe. What puzzles me is the erratic pattern of the hits. They don’t ring true. Bombing at the marina. Veiled hit on Hormann. Obvious assassination of Faeber. Either Kalatis is losing his grip… or someone with a heavier hand has stepped in.”

“You’re sticking with your ‘government man’ theory, then?”

“I don’t know,” Arnette admitted. “If there’s a second hitter involved… if it’s Geis… the government’s coming unhinged.”

“Before now I thought you were wrong,” Graver said. “Now I think you’re right, but I’m hoping you’re wrong.”

“I just don’t know why-if I’m right about a second hitter-why is he playing into Kalatis’s game? I mean, ideally Kalatis would have wanted Burtell and Sheck and Faeber dead anyway, as a part of his plan to burn his bridges. Why is someone stepping in and helping him out… so crudely?”

“I don’t know,” Graver said. “I don’t know about any of that, but I do know I made a mistake by not pulling in Faeber. Honestly, I didn’t anticipate that I should have, I just didn’t.”

“What about Faeber-and the woman? Do you want us to put in an anonymous call to Homicide?”

“No,” Graver said quickly. “That’ll only bring everything down on me even faster.”

“Jesus, baby, that’s going to be a mess for that girl to find.”

“I can’t help that,” Graver said.

There was a pause and then Arnette asked, “So what did you find out from your pilot then?”