City Of Mirrors: A Diana Poole Thriller Part 32

I sat a few moments, gathering myself. Swaying, I stood up. "I'm going for popcorn. Want some?" I quickly squeezed past Bruno. Just as I reached the aisle he stuck out his foot, tripping me. I went down on the carpet.

Gerald snickered. I got to my hands and knees then sat back on my haunches, waiting for the nightmare room to stop tilting. "I thought you and Gerald weren't allowed in The Rock. At least that's what Mrs. Parson told me."

Bruno shot up out of his seat and leaned down, putting his face in mine. "You keep your mouth shut." He jerked me up to my feet.

"Ms. Poole," Parson greeted me as he came down the stage steps and walked up the aisle to us. "I'm glad you're alive. Rubio had such a need for drama, the need to create his own special effects. Not a good combination for a hit man. I won't miss him."

"How did he know Celia was at the motel?" I asked, as the room finally righted itself.

"I had Bruno, Gerald, and Rubio following you. Bruno and Gerald tailed who they thought was you to the hospital. So I ordered Rubio to wait at Bella Casa in case someone else went in or out. And you did. In a bright red convertible. Rubio followed you to the motel and of course informed Bruno where he was."

"I didn't see his bike."

"He wasn't on it, just in a regular plain sedan. I didn't order him to rent the room next to Celia's or fire stupidly through the wall. But that was Rubio's way. He too loved the movies. Did you tell them where the memory card is?"

"No."

"We searched Celia, the room, and Ms. Poole," Bruno explained. "Nothing. It was a quick search. We had to get out before the cops arrived."

"Where's Heath?" I asked Parson.

Parson a.s.sessed me. "You said you didn't tell Bruno and Gerald where the card is. Does that mean you know?"

"Yes."

"We're making headway."

"I want to see Heath first."

"Bring her upstairs," he told the two men.

Parson led us backstage. Bruno's hand gripped my arm as we made our way up the circular stairs. I didn't have a plan. But I had one goal, the card in Bruno's pocket. Other than that, I was improvising, and like all good actresses I knew I had to follow my instincts. Wait for the moment.

Parson opened the door to his bedroom. I braced myself for what b.l.o.o.d.y condition Heath might be in.

"Sit, Miss Poole."

Bruno shoved me onto the bed. Then he and Gerald leaned against the wall opposite me. Now Parson opened the door to the cement-lined room. Heath was tied to the wooden chair. His shirt hung open and his head lolled down, chin resting on his bare chest.

Luis stood next to him, his black hair glistening like a gigolo's.

"As you can see, we've kept Heath under control," Parson said. "I could play the torture game to make you tell me where the card is, but that's tedious, don't you think?"

"Let him go. I'll tell you where it is."

Luis grabbed Heath's hair and yanked back his head. Heath's face stretched in a grimace of pain.

"You know I can't do that," Parson said in his most reasonable tone. "You tell me its location, and I'll send Bruno and Gerald to get it."

"Let Heath go first."

"Luis." Parson spoke his name but it was really a command.

In one balletic movement Luis pulled a knife from his pants pocket, flipped the blade from its sheath, and pressed it to Heath's throat.

"Stop it!" All eyes were on me. I had my moment. I had my audience. "I don't want to watch any more people die. I saw Celia die. I saw your wife die. I can't take it ..."

"My wife?" Parson looked as if he'd been shot. "What are you talking about?"

I glanced at Heath, still with the knife at this throat. He was watching me closely. And I realized he was more alert than he'd first appeared.

"What about my wife?" Parson demanded.

"I was there in the penthouse when she jumped. I tried to prevent her. We all did. Ask Bruno. Ask Gerald."

"She's lying!" Gerald said. "We checked on your wife every hour, like you said. The last time we did, she was gone."

Bruno stared silently at me, his eyes filled with pure hatred.

"Go on, Ms. Poole," Parson said.

"She was on the balcony when Bruno and Gerald broke in."

"Broke in?"

"Yes. She'd stolen the key from Bruno and had locked the door from the inside."

"I don't know what she's talking about." The blood had drained from Bruno's face.

With a small, hard smile, Luis moved to the doorway, the knife in his hand, his back to Heath.

"I was with her," I said to Parson. "You have pre-Columbian art in your penthouse. The gla.s.s wall automatically folds back into panels. You have a private elevator with a door that looks like all the other office doors. Your wife had auburn hair, she was wearing jeans." Parson's eyes were beginning to glaze over with rage. I glanced at Heath. He was working his hands trying to loosen the ropes on his wrists.

"She said you took Jenny to the Rock, and Jenny came home wanting to be an actress. She said you used the theater for solace. Or to kill."

Parson's stone-like eyes narrowed, his cadaverous body went rigid, and he jabbed a finger at me. "Enough of this bulls.h.i.t. I want the card now."

"I saw Bruno take it."

Parson turned slowly toward the big man.

Bruno pulled himself up. "I don't have it, sir. She's s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with us."

"He put it in his handkerchief pocket. Look for yourself."

Bruno's left hand flattened against his chest. His eyes widened as he felt the card. Instantly his other hand jammed inside his jacket and pulled out his gun. But Bruno wasn't fast enough.

With a flick of his wrist, Luis hurled his knife across the room and into Bruno's neck. Bruno's mouth gaped open. Dropping the gun, his hands grabbed for the knife. Blood spurted from his jugular. His legs buckled and he dropped to the floor. The Aubusson rug soaked up his blood.

Heath had worked his hands free. He was grappling with the ropes on his legs.

"Stop!" Gerald yelled. "We didn't do anything. It was her. It was all her!" Backing up to the bedroom door, he waved his gun at me, then at Parson.

Parson was motionless, standing as if he were in a trance. I knew Gerald was waiting for an order to shoot, for someone to tell him what to do.

Heath had freed his legs. Silently he rose, turned, lifted his chair, and crashed it down on Luis's back. Luis flew forward, his chin up, surprise on his face. He belly-flopped onto the floor next to Bruno. Gasping for air, he reached for Bruno's gun.

Gerald fired, somehow missing all of us. Heath ducked, moved in, and seized Bruno's weapon from Luis. With a quick twist of his body, he aimed and fired.

A round black hole appeared in Gerald's forehead. He dropped to his knees. Shoulders slumping, he keeled over. I moved to him and grabbed his weapon.

Parson sat down on his bed and asked calmly, "Are you all right, Luis?"

"Si." Luis's hand moved to take the knife from Bruno's neck.

But Heath stood over him. "Give it up, Luis. Go sit with your boss."

As Luis silently joined him, Parson looked at Heath with calculating eyes. "If you were a cold-blooded killer, Heath, you'd shoot Luis and me. Obviously, you're not."

"Don't be too sure," Heath said.

I stood next to Heath, holding Gerald's gun on Parson and Luis. "Heath's going to the call the police."

Parson tossed me his bony Pasha grin, but spoke to Heath. "Are you?"

Heath didn't answer.

"Heath?"

He had a look of not knowing me on his face. He turned and walked back into the cement room and scooped up his wallet, cell phone, flashlight, and coins from the wood table.

"Your mother," Parson told me in an amused voice, "would figure a way out of this mess so n.o.body got hurt, especially her. That's what Heath is doing. He's the best fixer there is."

My voice rose. "You can't do this, Heath!"

Heath stepped back into the bedroom. "He'd walk right out of the police station, Diana. He knows too much about too many people."

"He should at least be arrested."

Parson pursed his lips and stroked his goatee. "She has a point, a little too moral for this situation, but a point. You must be very disappointed in Heath. Your mother would have loved him. Come on, Luis."

Luis, his perfectly pressed Polo shirt drenched in Bruno's blood, got to his feet and opened the door for Parson.

"Wait a minute," Heath said, "I've changed my mind. I think I will have you arrested."

"I've never seen a woman sway you before, Heath."

"You don't know people as well as you think you do, Parson." He gestured with his weapon to the cement room. "Get in there. Now."

Parson gave a world-weary shrug. He and Luis entered their torture chamber.

Parson turned and stared at me. "Did my wife intend to kill herself? I need to know."

"Yes, she said it was the only power she had over you."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Bruno was a trustworthy man, in my world that is. Did he take the card?"

"No, I put it in his pocket."

"You are impressive. Perhaps more impressive than your mother."

"Did you want the card to protect Jenny?"

A sad, distant smiled formed on his grim lips. "We spend too much time protecting the dead."

Heath shoved him all the way in and bolted the door.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR.

The stench of blood filled the room. Heath turned from the bolted door and took his cell from his pants pocket and punched in a number. Placing Gerald's gun on the nightstand, I stood by the bed, my arms crossed, holding myself. As Heath waited for someone to answer, I looked at his shirt, the b.u.t.tons ripped off. He was breathing as if his ribs hurt. Finally he spoke into the phone. "Hey, Spangler, this is Heath. I'm in an old movie theater called The Roxy. Two of Parson's men are dead. I've locked up Parson and Luis. They're all yours if you can hold 'em." He gave the address. "Diana's with me. I'll tell her." He disconnected and peered at me, questions in his dark eyes. "They found Celia at a place called the Larchmont Motel."

"I know." Swallowing hard, I crouched beside Bruno and slid the memory card from his pocket and put it in mine. Needing to get away from the smell of death, I went out to the landing and stood by the spiral staircase.

"Diana? Are you all right?" Heath asked, moving next to me.

"Rubio shot Celia. Before she died, she killed him. She saved my life."

"I'm glad she did." He put his arms around me, pulling me to him.

"I owe you a new shirt," I said.

"I owe you my life. Parson was right. You are impressive."

Taking a deep breath, I moved away from him. "Were you really going to let Parson go?"

"If you weren't here? Yes."

"Why?"

He heaved a sigh. "In the Army you were ordered to do things you knew were ineffective, even useless. And arresting Parson is the same thing to me. He'll be let go. He has too much on too many important people. Why waste everybody's time and money? Why go though the process?" He paused, looking at me. "You're disappointed."