Killing Rain Part 13

f.u.c.k. I knew she had me. Still, I struggled for a moment longer. I said, "I guess I'm not as sharp as I used to be." Given the less than adroit way I had just handled her probe, my words rang worryingly true.

"If you didn't know him and you hadn't noticed, I would have expected you to be more alarmed to learn of his presence," she said, relentless.

I didn't say anything. Dox was blown. There was nothing I could do.

"Who is he?" she asked.

I sighed. "My partner."

She nodded as though she had already known, as indeed she had. "He was with you in Manila?"

I shrugged. There was nothing to say.

"You might as well call him, then. We should talk."

I realized I had never been with Dox in front of civilized company. The prospect made me uncomfortable.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said.

But she misunderstood my reticence. "It would be more efficient for us to put our heads together."

For the second time in as many days, I thought, Nothing good can come of this.

And for the second time I found myself saying, "All right."

I took out my cell phone and called him. He answered immediately. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Peachy," I said, the code word to tell him that everything was indeed okay, that I wasn't under duress. "But my friend noticed you at the airport, and again here. She'd like to meet you."

"Oh man, how did she notice me? You must have told her."

"I didn't. She just noticed you."

"How? d.a.m.n, this is embarra.s.sing."

I looked at Delilah. She was smiling slightly, enjoying what she must have been making of the other side of the conversation.

"I told you, she's good," I said.

"Yeah, apparently so. You going to give me a hard time about this?"

"G.o.d, yes."

There was a pause. "All right. I reckon I've got that coming. But not in front of her, okay? This is embarra.s.sing enough."

"All right."

"Promise me."

Christ. "I promise."

"Okay, where do you want to do this?" The tone was of a little boy resigned to a spanking.

"I think my room would be best. No sense the three of us being seen together."

He sighed. "I'll be there in a minute."

I clicked off. Delilah asked, "Was he upset?"

I shrugged. "Embarra.s.sed."

She smiled. "I would be, too."

"I promised him I wouldn't be hard on him in front of you."

Her smile broadened. "That's what you were promising?"

I nodded and added innocently, "But that was only me. You didn't promise anything."

She chuckled and said, "There's a streak of cruelty in you, I see."

I looked at her."How did you make him? Really."

"I told you, the incongruities. But also . . . he's a big man, but when you look at him, it's almost like he's not there."

I nodded. I saw no sense in telling her about his sniping background. I said, "He's like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Most of the time he's as loud and obnoxious as an ambulance siren. But when he goes dark, he can d.a.m.n near disappear."

"That's what tipped me. I didn't notice him, but then I noticed that I didn't notice, you know what I mean? I took a second look, and realized how big he is. That's what told me he was a pro. It's not easy for a big man to make himself fade away like that. Even for a small one, it's rare."

There was a knock at the door. I walked over, stood to the side, and leaned over to glance through the peephole. It was Dox.

I opened the door. He nearly blotted out the sun behind him. I turned and waved him inside.

Delilah stood. Dox looked at her a little sheepishly. Then he turned to me. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of my bruised cheek. His glance dropped to the wear and tear on my arms. His face lit up in his trademark grin.

"Well, I don't know what ya'll were doing last night, but I hope it was consensual," he said.

s.h.i.t, I thought. Well, Dox had to be Dox. There was nothing anyone could do about it.

Delilah looked at him. Her expression was somewhere between mild amus.e.m.e.nt and gentle reproach. "Really, is that any way to introduce yourself ?" she asked softly, holding Dox's eyes.

Dox returned her look, and something strange came over him. The grin faded away and color crept into his cheeks. He dropped his hands in front of his pants as though he was holding a hat there, and said, "Um, no. No, ma'am, it's not."

I thought, What the h.e.l.l?

She gave him an encouraging that's better smile and held out her hand. Her head was high, her posture erect and formal. "I'm Delilah," she said.

He reached for her hand and shook it once, his head bowing slightly as he did so. "People call me Dox."

She raised her eyebrows. " 'Dox'?"

He nodded, and I noticed him unconsciously straighten, mirroring her posture. "It's short for 'unorthodox,' ma'am. Which some people seem to think I am."

Good G.o.d, it was like watching a ferocious-looking dog charge into a room, then roll over to have its belly scratched.

Her eyes twinkled with understanding and shared good humor. "You don't seem unorthodox to me," she said.

Dox's expression was almost grave. "Well, I'm not," he said. "I'm the normal one. It's all those other folks who are unorthodox." He paused, then added, "Although I do kind of like the nickname. I've had it for a long time. You can use it, if you like."

She smiled. "I will. And please call me Delilah."

He nodded and said, "Yes, ma'am." He reddened, and I could imagine him thinking, Dumba.s.s. "Delilah, I mean."

"Why don't we sit down?" I said.

Dox turned to me as though suddenly remembering that I was in the room. He nodded. Then he turned to Delilah and gestured to the couch like the perfect southern gentleman. She smiled and walked over. I sat next to her. Dox took the chair and pulled it around so he was facing us.

Delilah and I briefed him on what we had discussed the night before and on what I had learned that morning.

When we were done, he said, "I knew those boys were hitters from the way they moved. And I was afraid they might be of the CIA persuasion. Too bad, really. Ordinarily, I try to make it a habit not to offend spy organizations and their ilk."

"That's the question," I said. "What organization we've really offended."

"What about your people?" Dox asked, turning to Delilah. "John tells me you're with the Mossad, or one of their affiliates."

She raised her eyebrows and glanced at me. "Is that what he says?"

Dox shrugged. "Professional outfit, if you don't mind my saying so. I worked with some Israeli snipers some years back."

Snipers. s.h.i.t, he might as well have handed her his CV.

"What did you think?" she asked.

"I liked them a lot. Arrogant bada.s.ses-uh, guys, I mean-with every reason to be. They taught me as many tricks as I did them." He broke out in the grin. Talking about sniping was more familiar territory for him. He glanced at me and said, "It takes a special kind of karma to offend the CIA and the Mossad, and both at the same time. If it had happened to someone else, I'd be laughing about it." Then he looked at Delilah and his expression sobered again. "I sure hope you can do something to help us out of this situation we're in before it gets any nastier."

Delilah nodded. "I'll try."

Dox bowed his head. "Well, I'm grateful to you. So's my partner."

Delilah looked at me. "How do I contact you?"

I gave her one of the cell phone SIM card numbers. I would leave the phone off most of the time so that no one could track it. But I could check the voice mail from time to time securely enough, and more frequently and easily than I could the bulletin board.

"All right," I said. "Time to beat a hasty retreat. I'll take care of the checkout."

Dox and I stood up. I leaned over Delilah and kissed her.

"Thank you," I said.

She shook her head. "Don't thank me yet."

ELEVEN.

HILGER HAD GOTTEN back to his apartment on Lugard Road in the Mid-Levels at well past sunrise that morning. He was sleeping with the aid of a black eyeshade when his cell phone rang on the bed stand next to him. He sat up instantly, pulled off the eyeshade, and blinked at the light coming through his bedroom window. He breathed in and out hard and cleared his throat. He had a feeling he knew who might be calling, even though there was no rational reason for his confidence.

He picked up the phone and said, "Hilger."

"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Hilger. Our mutual friend gave me your number."

The voice was soft and a.s.sured, lightly Arabic-accented. Hilger smiled. He had been right. It was VBM.

"Good," Hilger said. "Thank you for calling."

"This line is secure?" the voice asked.

"Absolutely," Hilger responded.

The voice stayed oblique anyway. "It seems there was a problem in Manila."

"Yes, there was," he responded, staying oblique himself to keep the man comfortable. "Our mutual friend has enemies, as you know."

"And?"

"The problem has been resolved." It didn't feel like a lie because he expected it to be true soon. h.e.l.l, maybe it was true already.

"All right."

"If you're still in the area, I hope we can still meet. I'd like to come to the meeting personally."

"You weren't able to make it personally last time?"

The man was pressing. Maybe he was the petty type. Maybe he was just testing Hilger's mettle. It didn't matter. Hilger said, "I wasn't. But perhaps that's for the best."

He heard the man chuckle. All right, that was good.

"Where do you propose we meet?" the voice asked.

"Why don't you come here, to Hong Kong? You'll be my guest. I'll put you up in the best hotel. We can charter a boat, go to the horse races, whatever you like."

"I'm afraid I'll be pressed for time."