Молчаливая ночь [with w_cat]

[227] “Cally, it’s Jimmy. Listen, I’m in trouble. You probably know by now. I’m sorry I tried to get away. I hope that guard will be all right. I’m broke and I’m scared.” Jimmy’s voice was a whine. “Call Gil Weinstein. He’s the public defender assigned to me. Tell him I’ll meet him at St. Patrick’s Cathedral when midnight Mass is over. Tell him I want to turn myself in and I want him to be with me. His home number is 555-0267. Cally, I’m sorry I messed up everything so badly.”

[228] Jimmy pressed the disconnect on the cellular phone and watched as Cally hung up as well. “They can’t trace a cellular phone call, you know that, don’t you? Okay, now phone Weinstein and give him the same story. If the cops are listening, they must be jumping up and down right now.”

[229] “Jimmy, they’ll think I…”

[230] In two steps Jimmy was beside her, the gun to her head. “Make the call.”

[231] “Your lawyer may not be home. He may refuse to meet you.”

[232] “Naw. I know him. He’s a jerk. He’ll want the publicity. Get him.”

[233] Cally did not need to be told to make it quick. The moment Gil Weinstein was on the line, she rushed to say, “You don’t know me. I’m Cally Hunter. My brother, Jimmy Siddons, just called. He wants me to tell you…” In a quavering voice she delivered the message.

[234] “I’ll meet him,” the lawyer said. “I’m glad he’s doing this, but if that prison guard dies, Jimmy is facing a death-penalty trial. He could get life without parole for the first killing, but now…” His voice trailed off.

[235] “I think he knows that.” Cally saw Jimmy’s gesture. “I have to go now. Good-bye, Mr. Weinstein.”

[236] “You make a great accomplice, big sister,” Jimmy told her. He looked down at Brian. “What’s your name, kid?”

[237] “Brian,” he whispered.

[238] “Come on, Brian. We’re getting out of here.”

[239] “Jimmy, leave him alone. Please. Leave him here with me.”

[240] “No way. There’s always the chance you’d go running to the cops even though the minute they talk to that kid, you’re in big trouble yourself. After all, you did steal his mama’s wallet. No, the kid comes with me. No one is looking for a guy with his little boy, are they? I’ll let him go tomorrow morning when I get to where I’m headed. After that you can tell them anything you like about me. The kid’ll even back you up, won’t you, sonny?”

[241] Brian shrank against Cally. He was so afraid of the man that he was trembling. Was the man going to make him go away with him?

[242] “Jimmy, leave him here. Please.” Cally thrust Brian behind her.

[243] Jimmy Siddons’s mouth twisted in anger. He grabbed Cally’s arm and yanked her toward him, roughly twisting her arm behind her.

She screamed as she lost her grip on Brian and slipped to the floor.

[244] With eyes that denied any history of affection between them, Jimmy stood over his sister, again holding the gun to her head. “If you don’t do what I tell you, you’ll get more of that… and worse. They won’t take me alive. Not you, not nobody else is gonna send me to the death chamber. Besides, I got a girlfriend waiting for me. So just keep your mouth shut. I’ll even make a deal. You don’t say nothing, and I’ll let the kid live. But if the cops try to close in on me, he gets a bullet in the head. It’s as simple as that. Got it straight?”

He stuck the gun back inside his jacket, then reached down and roughly pulled Brian to his feet. “You and I are gonna get to be real pals, sonny,” he said. “Real pals.” He grinned. “Merry Christmas, Cally.”

6

[245] The unmarked van parked across the street from Cally’s apartment building was the lookout post for the detectives watching Cally’s building for any sign of Jimmy Siddons. They had observed Cally come home at just a little after her usual time.

[246] Jack Shore, the detective who had visited Cally in the morning, pulled off his earphones, swore silently, and turned to his partner. “What do you think, Mort? No, wait a minute. I’ll tell you what I think. It’s a trick. He’s trying to buy time to get as far away from New York as possible while we take up the collection at St. Pat’s looking for him.”

[247] Mort Levy, twenty years younger than Shore and less cynical, rubbed his chin, always a sign that he was deep in thought. “If it is a trick, I don’t think the sister is a willing accomplice. You don’t need a meter to hear the stress level in her voice.”

[248] “Listen, Mort, you were at Bill Grasso’s funeral. Thirty years old, with four little kids, and shot between the eyes by that bum Siddons. If Cally Hunter had come clean with us and told us that she’d given that rat brother of hers money and the keys to her car, Grasso would have known what he was up against when he stopped him for running a light.”