‘At the desk.’
‘Okay, good.’ Hodges regards Madden earnestly. ‘Here comes the important part of our little talk, Oliver, so listen closely. I was hired to find the plane and take possession of it. That’s all, end of story. I’m not FBI, MPD, or even a private dick. My sources are good, though, and I know you’re on the verge of making a deal to buy a controlling interest in a couple of casinos out on the lake, one on Grande Belle Coeur Island and one on P’tit Grand Coeur.’ He taps the briefcase with his foot. ‘I’m sure the paperwork is in here, as I’m sure that if you want to remain a free man, it’s never going to be signed.’
‘Oh now wait a minute!’
‘Shut your hole. There’s a ticket in the James Mallon name at the Delta terminal. It’s one-way to Los Angeles. Leaves in—’ he looked at his watch— ‘in about ninety minutes. Which gives you just time enough to go through all the security shit. Be on that plane or you’ll be in jail tonight. Do you understand?’
‘I can’t—’
‘Do you understand?’
Madden – who is also Mallon, Morton, Mason, Dillon, Callen, and God knows how many others – thinks over his options, decides he has none, and gives a sullen nod.
‘Great! I’ll unlock you now, take my cuffs, and exit your vehicle. If you try making a move on me while I do either, I’ll knock you into next week. Are you clear on that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Your car key’s on the grass. Big yellow Hertz fob, can’t miss it. For now, both hands on the wheel. Ten and two, just like Dad taught you.’
Madden puts both hands on the wheel. Hodges unlocks the cuffs, slips them back in his left pocket, and exits the Navigator. Madden doesn’t move.
‘You have a good day, now,’ Hodges says, and shuts the door.
7
He gets into his Prius, drives to the end of the Zane Aviation turnaround, parks, and watches Madden grub the Navigator’s key out of the grass. He waves as Madden drives past him. Madden doesn’t wave back, which doesn’t even come close to breaking Hodges’s heart. He follows the Navigator along the airport feeder road, not quite tailgating but close. When Madden turns off toward the main terminals, Hodges flashes a so-long with his lights.
Half a mile farther up, he pulls into the lot of Midwest Airmotive and calls Pete Huntley, his old partner. He gets a civil enough ‘Hey, Billy, how you doin,’ but nothing you’d call effusive. Since Hodges went his own way in the matter of the so-called Mercedes Killer (and barely escaped serious legal trouble as a result), his relationship with Pete has frosted over. Maybe this will thaw it out a bit. Certainly he feels no remorse about lying to the moke now heading for the Delta terminal; if ever there was a guy who deserved a heaping spoonful of his own medicine, it’s Oliver Madden.
‘How would you like to bag an extremely tasty turkey, Pete?’
‘How tasty?’ Still cool, but on the interested side of cool now.
‘FBI Ten Most Wanted, that tasty enough? He’s currently checking in at Delta, scheduled to leave for LA on Flight One-nineteen at one forty-five P.M. Going under James Mallon, but his real name is Oliver Madden. He stole a bunch of money from the Feds five years ago as Oliver Mason, and you know how Uncle Sam feels about getting his pocket picked.’ He adds a few of the more colorful details on Madden’s resume.
‘You know he’s at Delta how?’
‘Because I bought the ticket. I’m leaving the airport now. I just repo’d his plane. Which was not his plane, because he made the down payment with a rubber check. Holly will call Zane Aviation and give them all the details. She loves that part of the job.’
A long moment of silence. Then: ‘Aren’t you ever going to retire, Billy?’
That sort of hurts. ‘You could say thanks. It wouldn’t kill you.’
Pete sighs. ‘I’ll call airport security, then get on out there myself.’ A pause. Then: ‘Thank you. Kermit.’
Hodges grins. It’s not much, but it might be a start in repairing what has been, if not broken, then badly sprained. ‘Thank Holly. She’s the one who tracked him down. She’s still jumpy with people she doesn’t know, but when she’s on the computer, she kills.’
‘I’ll be sure to do that.’
‘And say hi to Izzy.’ Isabelle Jaynes has been Pete’s partner since Hodges pulled the pin. She’s one dynamite redhead, and plenty smart. It occurs to Hodges, almost as a shock, that soon enough she’ll be working with a new partner; Pete himself will be retiring ere long.
‘I’ll pass that on, too. Want to give me this guy’s description for the airport security guys?’
‘He’s hard to miss. Six and a half feet tall, light brown suit, probably looking a little woozy just about now.’
‘You clocked him?’