Erasing Memory Part 24

"Anything your heart desires, Williams. Take your time, but keep wandering. When you've checked out the window, cross the street and call me."

"Chocolate."

"Figures," Swetsky said as Williams got out of the car.

"I heard that, cracker." Williams pointed at Swetsky and smiled.

When he came out of the ice cream parlour, he held up the cone, and it was indeed chocolate. He turned away and began to walk casually down the street.

Swetzky laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "He's got a sense of humour, but he's a good cop."

"I'm counting on it," MacNeice said.

In a few minutes Williams had crossed the street and was sitting on a bench just outside Petrescu's shop. With one arm stretched out along the back of the bench, he really did look like a guy with time to kill. A drop of ice cream fell onto his shirt; he took a tissue from his pocket and tried to wipe it off while licking around the cone to stay ahead of the melting chocolate. To get a better view of the damage to his shirt, he walked over to use the shop window as a mirror. He kept wiping at the stain and licking the ice cream before giving up and turning away. He dropped the ice cream in the waste bin on the corner and slowly crossed the street. On the other side, still checking out his shirt in the shop windows, he took out his cellphone.

Pushing the hands-free b.u.t.ton, MacNeice said, "That was brilliant, Williams."

"I worked in improv before I went to the academy, sir, though the stain wasn't planned...."

"That's why they call it improv. What have you got for us?"

"There's movement in the back. You can't see anyone clearly, but the lights are on back there and I could see maybe two or three shadows. I guess it's the office. You'll love this, though-the front door is slightly open. Caught on the frame so they thought it was closed, but it's definitely open. In my old neighbourhood that place would be cleaned out in three minutes flat. In the middle of the back wall, which is all bookshelves, there's a panelled wood door to the back room. On the right side there's a narrow horizontal window between the shelves, a kind of peek-a-boo slider, to see into the store from the office behind. It's made of translucent gla.s.s, and that's where you can see the shadows."

"Anything else?"

"No, that's it."

"Williams, take a seat on that bench to your left. I'll get back to you."

"Why would they leave the front door open?" Aziz asked.

"Don't know," MacNeice said.

"Maybe it has something to do with the security system. They must've disarmed it," Swetsky said, but without conviction.

"Or it's as Williams said-they shoved it, but it's an old door and it stuck without closing. Whichever it is, you can bet there's a buzzer or bell that sounds in the back room when it opens wide."

"What's this?" Aziz said.

An old woman with a tiny dog on a leash had stopped at the bench outside the shop. She sat down and began feeding the dog something that looked like popcorn.

"Swets, there's a pair of small binoculars in the seat pocket beside you. Can you hand them to me?"

"Sure thing." He picked them up; they looked tiny in his hand. Swets winked at Aziz. "These are the opera gla.s.ses the boss uses for all the uptown cases."

"They actually are, smarta.s.s." MacNeice unfolded them and looked towards the shop. The dog was on the woman's lap and a bag of PuffyPop was in her hand. She was feeding the kernels one by one into its tiny snout. The dog munched each one quickly, then looked up at her face and then to her hand in the bag.

MacNeice called Williams, who was tracking a young woman walking along with her toddler. "Williams, look over at the shop. See her?"

"The old lady? Pink twinset? Yup."

"I want you to go over there and, as gently as possible, get her to move along. There's another bench down a block. Tell her that's the one everyone favours because of the sun or something."

"What if she don't wanna leave?"

"Be persuasive and gentle."

"I'm on it."

MacNeice, Aziz and Swetsky watched as Williams crossed the street, a little more purposefully than before, though he slowed as he got close to the woman. Through the binoculars MacNeice could see that she was aware of Williams, and she seemed to hug the dog closer to her chest as he approached. What followed was a Charlie Chaplin movie. Williams reached for her arm and the woman pulled back, horrified. Undeterred, Williams put his large black hand on her thin pink arm. MacNeice could see the woman's mouth open wide as the dog seized Williams's wrist with its nasty little jaws. MacNeice rolled the window down in time to hear her scream.

The dog was still locked on Williams's right wrist. When he turned towards them with a look of What now? What now? it hung in mid-air, its tiny legs clawing at nothing. The woman was screaming, "Help! Please help me!" it hung in mid-air, its tiny legs clawing at nothing. The woman was screaming, "Help! Please help me!"

Williams looked stricken when the door to the shop opened and the heavyset blond with the black eyes came out. He was smoking a cigarette and had one hand in his pocket. He was also laughing. Williams instinctively turned away from the Chevy. The lady was now on her feet. She threw the bag of PuffyPop at Williams and looked over to the Romanian, yelling, "Help me!" The blond was laughing so hard now he was coughing. He flicked his cigarette into the street and walked over to Williams.

"This is it," MacNeice said. "Aziz, head for the side door but watch out for the Rover. We don't know if the driver's still in it or inside the shop. Swetsky, come with me. We'll go through the front door. Quickly now." The three got out of the Chevy and didn't bother closing the doors.

Williams was trying to pry the dog off his wrist, which was bleeding-another stain to deal with-when the blond tapped him on the shoulder.

"Leave lady alone, Sambo." The blond's back was to MacNeice and Swetsky as they approached.

"Sambo? Who the f.u.c.k do you think you're talkin' to, white boy?"

"Leave lady." The blond reached out to grab William's shirt front.

"I'll tell you what, motherf.u.c.ker-get your hand off me, and after I deal with this rat-dog, you and I will have some special f.u.c.king time together."

The F-bomb in all its glory was too much for the old lady, who hit the deck beside the bench. Her pink wrist was still tethered to the dog by its leash, and the dog was still locked on Williams's wrist, its little legs clawing at the air.

"You kill lady, Sambo."

"That's it." Williams whipped his right arm forward as if throwing a pa.s.s downfield. The dog became airborne-till it reached the end of the red leather leash and lurched to a halt in mid-air. The old lady's arm flopped for a moment, then it and the dog fell to the ground, after which neither moved.

As Williams crouched to check on the woman, he was. .h.i.t on the side of the head by a wooden baton and knocked to the sidewalk, then kicked in the ribs. Before the blond could launch a second kick, Swetsky wrapped his arms around him.

MacNeice stepped quietly into the shop.

"About time," Williams said as he got up on all fours.

"Mister, I've got you," Swetsky managed to say to the struggling blond. "Now just settle down, ya hear me?"

"f.u.c.k you." The blond leaned forward, lifting Swetsky's feet and impressive bulk off the ground, then pushed back with such force that he hit the brick wall of the building with a crack that knocked the wind out of him. But Swetsky hung on, and tightened the bear hug.

Williams was all the way up now. The blond swung Swetsky towards him, causing Williams to back up.

"That's one crazy f.u.c.ker you got there, Swets. Do you wanna keep dancing with him, or how do you wanna handle this?"

"Tackle the f.u.c.ker!" Swetsky shouted.

Squaring himself, Williams launched forward in a perfect football lunge, slamming into the two men at knee height. All three flew into the window, which exploded inwards. The impact knocked Williams off the two bigger men, who were now draped over the window frame. He landed on his back in the shop and sat up, just as a large section of gla.s.s broke free from its caulking ten feet above and sliced into the blond's stomach, leaving a giant triangle sticking out of him. Swetsky was still holding tight.

MacNeice was at the door to the office when the window blew in. He turned towards the noise, then hit the floor when the distinctive ping ping of a silencer sent a bullet whizzing past his head. Gla.s.s and ceramic statuary and vases blew apart, as did the window on the other side of the front door. MacNeice rolled clear and sat up against the bookshelves. More shots struck the heavy table in front of the three downed men; its antique veneer splintered and flew about. of a silencer sent a bullet whizzing past his head. Gla.s.s and ceramic statuary and vases blew apart, as did the window on the other side of the front door. MacNeice rolled clear and sat up against the bookshelves. More shots struck the heavy table in front of the three downed men; its antique veneer splintered and flew about.

MacNeice drew his weapon and got to his feet. As he turned towards the office, he saw a long tubular silver barrel extending from the doorway-a custom-made weapon, as menacing and powerful as it was strange.

"Uri? Uri!" Moving further into the shop, the driver didn't notice MacNeice standing against the back wall.

"Put the weapon down. Drop it now," he said.

The driver didn't move, nor did he lower the weapon. He looked over his shoulder and saw MacNeice with the pistol pointed at his head, but kept moving forward towards the storefront.

"Last time-put the weapon down." MacNeice stepped forward with both hands on the pistol to steady himself.

The driver looked down to see the blond trying to pry the gla.s.s wedge out of his stomach, his eyes raised pleadingly towards his comrade. He was trying to say something but seemed to have no wind left in him. Swetsky was still beneath him, and the driver recognized him from the parking lot.

The driver looked back at MacNeice, then over at Williams, who was leaning against the door frame struggling to get his gun out. The driver slowly shifted his weapon towards Williams's head.

"Put the weapon down now," MacNeice said.

The driver looked at Uri, then back at MacNeice before turning again to Williams. Just as his finger tightened on the trigger, a gunshot from outside the shop snapped his head back. Hair and brain tissue hit the bookcase, and he fell back, dropping the weapon.

Williams looked at MacNeice. MacNeice said, "Wasn't me."

Aziz came into view, her arms outstretched and her Glock still at the ready.

"Where's Petrescu?" MacNeice asked.

"I don't know. n.o.body came out the side door."

MacNeice turned towards the office. "Williams, come with me. Aziz, make sure Swetsky's okay."

"I'm fine," Swetsky managed to say. He had finally crawled out from under the blond and was sitting against the wall picking gla.s.s out of his bleeding hands.

"I'm coming with you, Mac," Aziz said.

MacNeice went through the door, followed by Aziz and Williams. Petrescu wasn't there. They opened the closet and bathroom doors-nothing. The filing cabinets were all open, as was a wall safe. There were papers and books on the floor.

"The Range Rover. Come on, we've been distracted by these two." MacNeice opened the side door, but the black SUV was gone. They went back inside the shop.

"Swetsky, you okay?"

"I'm fine. This guy ain't doin' so good, though." The blond's breathing was shallow and his eyes gla.s.sy. Several sirens could be heard in the distance.

Looking at the blood streaming from Swetsky's hands, MacNeice said, "Give Williams your keys. You stay and handle this. You okay with that?"

"No problem." Swetsky found himself a chair, brushed it off and sat down. "Messed this place up pretty bad." He threw the keys to Williams.

"It could have been a lot worse," Williams said. He put his right fist on his chest over his heart, then pointed at Swetsky.

"Yeah, yeah. Go on, get outta here."

People were gathering on the other side of street. Maybe it was because the dog was licking the rouge off her cheek, but the old lady woke up just as MacNeice and Aziz came out of the shop, followed by Williams. She was about to scream again when MacNeice said, "He's a police officer, ma'am, and a very good one. Do you need any a.s.sistance? Can we help you up?"

She shook her head, and as Williams walked by, she stared at him. He smiled and said, "You have a nice day, ma'am."

When they got to the Chevy, MacNeice said to Williams, "You take the international airport, we'll take Dundurn."

"You knew, didn't you?" Aziz asked as they drove away.

"Knew what?"

"That the old lady would freak out when she saw Williams."

"I figured it was fifty-fifty, and that either way, it would work to our advantage." MacNeice switched on the radio. "Give me your position, Williams."

"Just turning onto the Queen E. No sign of him so far."

"When you get to Pearson, go to Departures. There's no place for him to return the Rover there, so he'll likely dump it outside. We're fifteen minutes away from Dundurn Regional. If you see the vehicle on the way, stay back, call immediately and we'll come to you. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Put your shoulder harness on," MacNeice said as he hung up. "We're going to do some driving." MacNeice took the cherry from under the dash, put it on the roof and switched his headlights to flashing. He gathered speed and began weaving through the traffic.

He glanced over at her. She was looking out the window to the right.

She felt his gaze and said, "I thought you were hit, Mac. I couldn't see you from the corner, but I saw Williams and that guy pointing the gun at his head. I didn't think about it; I just took aim and fired."

"That was impressive shooting, Aziz. How about now? Are you feeling steady?"

"I think I am...but I may be in shock. I've never shot anyone before."

"We've been playing catch-up all through this case, always arriving after the fact. Now Petrescu's on the run and we don't know how he'll respond to that."

"What are you getting at?" She looked over at him.

"He's not a man to get his hands b.l.o.o.d.y. But he sacrificed both those men, and now he has to deal with us on his own. I need to know that you're steady, Fiza. There's no shame if you're not-I just need to know."

"I'm a little shaky, but my adrenalin's pumping.... I'll deal with the repercussions later."

"Right. He's got perhaps eight to ten minutes on us. We can reel him in before he reaches the airport."

"And if we don't?"

"He'll be among hundreds of people, and that could get ugly. Alert airport security."

"What do I tell them?"

"Tell them we've received a bomb threat for both airports and they should take the necessary precautions. Let Williams know you've done that, then call the DC and tell him. Use my cellphone." He took it out and handed it across to her.