* * *
WHEN KELLY RETURNED to the lobby of her hotel, she walked over to the desk. "I'm checking out," she said. "Would you please get me a reservation on the next plane to Paris?" "Certainly, Mrs. Harris. Any particular airline?" "Just get me out of here." Kelly crossed the hotel lobby, stepped into an elevator, and pressed the button for the fourth floor. As the elevator door started to close, two men pushed it open and got in. Kelly studied them an instant, then quickly backed out into the lobby. She waited until the elevator door closed, then headed for the stairs and started to walk up. No use taking any chances, Kelly thought.
As she reached the fourth-floor landing, a huge man was blocking the way.
"Excuse me," Kelly said. She started to move past him.
"Shh!" He was pointing a gun with a silencer at her.
Kelly turned pale. "What are you-?" "Shut up. I bet you got exactly the right number of holes, lady. Unless you want an extra one, be quiet. I mean-very quiet. You and I are going downstairs." The man was smiling, but as Kelly looked closer, she saw that a knife crease on his upper lip had pulled his mouth up into a fixed grin. He had the coldest eyes Kelly had ever seen. Let s go.
No! I'm not going to die because of that bitch. "Wait a minute. You have the wrong-" She felt the gun smash so hard into her ribs that she wanted to scream.
"I told you to shut up! We'll walk down." He was holding Kelly's arm in a painful viselike grip, the gun concealed in his hand behind her back.
Kelly was fighting hysteria. "Please," she said softly, "I'm not the-" The pain as he stabbed the muzzle of the gun against her back was excruciating. He was squeezing her arm so hard that she could feel the blood draining out.
They started down the stairs. They reached the lobby. It was crowded, and as Kelly was debating whether to call for help, the man said, "Don't even think about it." And they were outside. There was an SUV waiting at the curb. Two cars ahead, a policeman was writing a parking ticket. Kelly's captor led her to the back door of the SUV.
"Get in," he ordered.
Kelly glanced ahead at the policeman. "All right," Kelly said in a loud, angry voice, "I'll get in, but I want to tell you something. What you want me to do to you will cost an extra hundred dollars. I think it's disgusting." The policeman had turned to watch.
The burly man was staring at Kelly. "What the hell are you-?" "If you won't pay it, then forget it, you cheap bastard." Kelly started rapidly walking toward the policeman. The man looked after her.
His lips were smiling, but his eyes were deadly.
Kelly pointed to him. "That pervert has been bothering me." She glanced back to see the policeman moving toward the thug. Kelly stepped into a waiting taxi.
As the burly man started to get into the SUV, the policeman said, "Just a minute, mister. It's against the law in this state to solicit prostitutes." "I wasn't-" "Let me see some identification. What's your name?" "Harry Flint." Flint watched as Kelly's taxi sped away. That whore! I'll kill her. Slowly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
KELLY ALIGHTED FROM a taxi in front of Diane's apartment building, stormed up to the front door, and pressed the bell hard.
The door was opened by Detective Greenburg. "Can I-?" Kelly saw Diane in the living room and moved past the detective.
"What's going on?" Diane asked. "You said you-" "You tell me what's going on. I told you to tell your Mafia friends to leave me alone. They tried to grab me again. Why are your Mafia buddies trying to kill me?" "I-I have no idea. They wouldn't-maybe they saw us together and thought we were friends and-" "Well we're not friends, Mrs. Stevens. Get me out of this." "What are you talking about? How can I-?" "The same way you got me into it. I want you to tell your buddy, Altieri, that you and I just met, and you don't know me. I'm not going to let someone murder me because of some stupid thing you did." Diane said, "I can't-" "Oh, yes, you can. You're going to talk to Altieri and you're going to talk to him now. I'm not leaving here until you do." Diane said, "What you're asking is impossible. I'm sorry if I got you involved in this, but? She was thoughtful for a long moment, then turned to Greenburg. "Do you think if I talked to Altieri he might leave us both alone?" Greenburg said, "That's an interesting question. He might-especially if he thinks we're watching him. Would you like to talk to him personally?" Diane said, "No, I-" Kelly interrupted. "She means yes."
* * *
ANTHONY ALTIERI'S HOME was a classic stone and frame colonial-style house, in Hunterdon County, New Jersey. The enormous house was at the end of a cul-de-sac, on fifteen acres of land, surrounded by a huge, high, iron fence. On the grounds were tall shade trees, ponds, and a colorful garden.
A guard sat in a booth inside the front gate. As the car with Greenburg, Kelly, and Diane drove up, the guard walked out to meet it.
He recognized Greenburg. "Afternoon, Lieutenant." "Hello, Caesar. We want to see Mr. Altieri." "Do you have a warrant?" "It's not that kind of visit. This is a social call." The guard glanced at the two women. "Wait here." He walked inside, to the booth.
A few minutes later he came out and opened the gate. "You can go in." "Thanks." Greenburg drove up to the front of the house.
As the three of them got out of the car, a second guard appeared. "Follow me." He led them inside. The large living room was an eclectic combination of antiques and modern and French furniture. In spite of the fact that the day was warm, there was a roaring fire in the huge stone fireplace. The trio followed the guard through the living room into a large darkened bedroom. Anthony Altieri was in bed, attached to a respirator. He was pale and gaunt and seemed to have aged greatly since the short time he had appeared in court. A priest and a nurse were at his side.