The Getaway

FOURTEEN

‘What the hell is going on?’ Katic asked, as the taxi sped downtown. ‘Siletti’s the rat?’

‘He lied. About Farrell. Why would he do that? And you saw all the shit in the trunk. He was waiting for us to show him where the money was. Then he was going to kill us both, chop us up with the saw and probably dump the pieces in the sea, weighed down with the bricks. And my guess is Gerrard is already down there.’

‘What? Why?’

‘He was wearing Gerry’s suit.’

Katic looked at him, her eyes wide in disbelief, trying to process the situation.

‘Are you sure? How could you know that?’

‘Positive. Had the same stain on the right collar. I saw that stain go on there on Wednesday. He killed Gerrard tonight, probably within the hour. He got some of the mess on him. He didn’t have time to get home and change, so he swapped clothes with Gerrard instead. That’s why his hair was wet. He had to clean himself off.’

Katic thought for a moment. Realised she’d been played.

‘That son of a bitch. I trusted him.’

‘And it almost got you killed. I didn’t like that guy the moment I saw him. And he said we. He’s not the only one involved’

Katic didn’t respond. She shook her head slowly, her eyes unfocused, still trying to wrap her mind around it all. Archer pulled his phone and tried Gerrard again, more out of vain hope than anything else.

No one picked up.

Oh shit, Gerry, Archer thought, the image of Siletti executing him flashing into his mind.

‘Wait,’ Katic suddenly told the driver, regaining her clarity. ‘Stop here, please.’

The driver complied. They were just before Columbus Circle, on 60and Broadway. Archer and Katic got out on the Park side, both shuffling out through Archer’s door. She paid the fare, and the taxi departed, and she rushed across the street, Archer following. As they stepped onto the sidewalk on the other side of the street, Archer took Siletti’s car keys, the magazine to the USP and the spare bullet, wiped them off with the lapel of his coat and dropped them all in a trash can as they passed it.

‘Where are we going?’ he asked her.

‘Siletti’s going to be looking for us,’ she said. ‘Especially you. He was right. You just assaulted a Federal agent, Archer, unprovoked. If we don’t find justifiable cause for that, you are going to be in a whole new world of problems.’

‘So where are we going?’ he asked again.

They had stopped outside a huge building on the west side of Columbus Circle. He glanced to his left and saw a silver-coloured giant globe mounted on marble block, then looked back up at the structure in front of them. He knew what it was. His father had taken him here for a slice of cake one Saturday afternoon almost twenty years ago. He looked straight ahead and saw the name of the place printed on the golden awning above the wide entrance.

Trump International Hotel and Tower.

‘Parker lives here,’ Katic said.

‘Parker? As in the guy from your team.’

‘The very same.’

Archer looked up at the building.

‘He lives here?’

Katic nodded. ‘He’s Siletti’s partner on the team. Let’s go up there and talk to him. Tell him what just happened. Perhaps Parker can tell us more and we can get some back-up. Three’s better than two, right?’

‘He might be in on it.’

She pointed up at the expensive hotel.

‘Do you really think he needs the money?’



The building was impressive from the street, but Archer was stunned as he walked into the lobby of the Trump hotel. It looked like a movie set or something out of a dream.

Inside the lobby and reception area, the polished walls and decorations were lined with golden metal, the floor and reception desk fashioned from immaculately cut marble, not a single speck of dirt in sight. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, opulent and beautiful, extravagantly luxurious. To the left was a seating area, couches and armchairs with embroidered cushions that all together would probably cost him a year’s salary. Neat bouquets of white flowers had been placed on the tables in front of the seating area and also on the marble desktop of the reception counter, their fresh smell scenting the air.

As he saw guests moving past him through to the exit or headed to the bar and restaurant up ahead, he suddenly became aware of how scruffy he looked in his overcoat, t-shirt and sneakers. He figured there could be cops or security lurking who might have access to the NYPD scanner, or maybe a report had gone out over the television networks breaking the news on the Garden heist, so he kept back and let Katic take the lead. His feelings of sartorial inadequacy were confirmed when he saw the expression on the face of the woman behind the reception desk. From her seat he saw her look him up and down, and she seemed distinctly unimpressed.

Katic approached the woman, flipping her badge and spoke in lowered tones with her, asking what floor and room Parker occupied. After a brief conversation, Katic thanked the woman and led Archer forward through the lobby to the elevators, moving over the polished marble floor. Katic pushed the button for the elevators and they waited, Archer looking around the place in awe.

‘I need to join the FBI,’ he said.

‘That’s highly unlikely, given our current predicament,’ she replied.

He smiled as the elevator arrived. She was right. She turned and winked at him as the doors opened. They let an elderly couple out of the cart, then stepped inside, and Katic pushed the button for the 41 floor.



After the elevator moved up the building and arrived on 41, they got off and Katic led them down the corridor. Up here it was equally impressive, lots of cream-coloured carpets and golden lighting lining the white walls.

’41 F,’ she told Archer quietly, as they moved over the smooth carpet, headed right from the elevator.

Soon enough, they arrived outside the polished wooden door, 41 F printed on a golden oval-shaped tag on the door.

Katic went to knock, but stopped.

At the same time, she and Archer both looked down.

The door was already open.

It was slightly ajar, the lock resting against the metal frame. One simple push from the inside would lock it, but no one seemed to have done so. Without a word, Katic stepped back and pulled her pistol, flicking off the safety. She thought for a moment, then reached behind her back into her waistband and passed Archer back his Sig. He nodded appreciation and flicked off the safety catch, both of them holding the weapons double-handed. She looked at him, raising a finger to her lips. He nodded.

Then she pushed the door back gently and they moved into the apartment.

It was astonishingly opulent inside. It was a large suite, highly polished furniture and chairs on top of luscious cream carpet and flawless decoration. Through the windows, the view of the Park was spectacular, a sea of greenery alongside the looming building work structures of 59 Street to the right. The room seemed to have a golden glow, like everything else in the hotel, and it was silent. The two newcomers moved in silently, tip-toeing softly, their pistols moving everywhere their eyes went, avoiding touching anything and not making a sound. Katic didn’t call out Parker’s name.

They didn’t know who else could be in here.

Archer turned left. The door to the main bedroom was open. He moved inside, smooth and quiet, the 9mm Sig up, his finger tight on the trigger, his footfalls soft on the carpet. He saw the bed was made, undisturbed, pristine white sheets, duvet and pillows tucked and folded by house-keeping. Like the main room, the bedroom was empty. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Katic reappear. She shook her head, her pistol down by her side.

No one was here.

Inside the main bedroom, to the left of the bed was a door to a bathroom. It was closed. Archer crept forward and listened closely. He couldn’t hear anything the other side. No sound. No activity. He pulled up the corner of his coat to protect against fingerprints and grabbing the handle, gently twisted it. He pushed it open.

And he found Parker.

From where he was stood, Archer could see he was around his own age, mid-twenties, blond hair and tanned arms. He was slumped over the side of the bathtub, his arms and legs outside. Blood and brains were spattered all over the white walls, shower rail and on one side of the shower curtain.

He could see what had happened.

Someone had pushed him headfirst into the bathtub and shielding themselves with the curtain, shot him once in the back of the head. He could see the entry wound, a small maroon hole in the young man’s blond hair. It had to be a silenced pistol, otherwise the other guests would surely have heard something. He had been executed, his hands and feet duct-taped behind his back, another strip pulled over his mouth. The duct tape was grey. The same colour as the roll in the back of Siletti’s car.

The murder had happened recently too.

Blood was still sliding down the white tiles.

Archer heard a sharp intake of breath behind him and turned. Katic was there, her hand over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes as she stared at the lifeless young man. She moved back, sitting on the bed, unable to move her eyes from her dead colleague. Archer pulled the door shut gently with the lapel of his coat and moved over to sit beside her on the bed. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound, her brown eyes wide in disbelief.

They sat there in silence for five minutes. Neither moved. Neither spoke. But Archer broke it eventually. He had to.

‘We need to go,’ he said.

‘We can’t just leave him here,’ Katic said, turning on him, anger in her voice and eyes. She was torn up, full of shock and grief. Archer was a stranger with no history with the guy, so he was thinking with more clarity. He didn’t blame her for what she felt. If it was the other way round and one of his friends, like Chalky, had been murdered, he would have reacted the exact same way.

‘We’ll call the cops from the street and tip them off. C’mon. Let’s get out of here. If anyone from the hotel staff walk in, that could cause us a lot of problems. Let’s go find somewhere, another hotel, hole up and think.’

‘I can’t,’ she said, pulling a tissue from her pocket and wiping her eyes. ‘Not yet.’

‘We can’t stay here.’

‘No, I mean I can’t hole up anywhere yet.’

‘Why?’

‘My daughter.’

‘You have a daughter?’

She nodded.

‘Where is she?’

‘One of the other mom’s from school was looking after her.’ She checked her watch, sniffing, wiping tears from her eyes. ‘Shit, I’m meant to be at home. She was due to get dropped off half an hour ago. I can’t leave her there by herself Archer. She’s only nine.’

‘Does anyone in the Bureau know where you live?’ Archer asked, his eyes wide.

Katic thought about the question, starting to re-gather her composure.

‘Of course. It’s on the records.’

Suddenly, she turned to Archer.

She realised what he was thinking.

‘You think—’

But she didn’t even finish the sentence.

The two of them rose and ran for the door instead.



‘What the hell happened?’ the voice on the phone asked.

Siletti swore as he stuffed gauze up his nose. He had managed to get help from the street, telling a concerned passer-by he’d just been mugged. The guy saw his nose and realising this wasn’t a bluff, loosened the tie from the steering wheel, releasing the other man’s hands. Siletti had then gone to the trunk and grabbed a first aid kit, slamming the rear shut and walking back to the front seat in a rage.

‘Katic is with him. He realised something was up and he got the drop on me. A*shole broke my nose.’ He swore in pain as he pushed the gauze up his nostril. ‘Farrell called him too. His crew made it out of the Garden and they’re gonna be searching for him. We could give them a call.’

‘Forget him. He’ll never co-operate with us again.’

A silence followed.

‘You’re an idiot,’ the other man said, struggling to control his temper. ‘Eight million people in this city, and you had the two of them actually in your car. Why the hell didn’t you waste them? They could be anywhere by now.’

‘I don’t need a reminder. I thought I had them.’

There was a pause.

‘Where are you?’

‘67. Just north of Columbus.’

‘Did you take care of Lock and Parker?’

‘Yeah, they’re gone. They won’t be talking to anyone in D.C. Gave them both one to the back of the head. Used the HK, so it won’t land back on us. I chopped Lock up and dumped the bags in the sea, but I got Parker’s brains all over me when I shot him. Damn shower curtain didn’t work. I had to go and change my clothes with the ones Gerrard was wearing before I met with Katic. I didn’t have time to get home.’

‘Not like he’s going to need them anymore,’ the other guy said.

Siletti nodded.

There was a pause.

‘Wait where you are,’ the other man said. ‘I’m headed your way. I think I know where the bitch and the English guy are headed. We’ll do it properly this time. We’ll get them to tell us where the money is, then shoot them and dump them both in the bay.’

Siletti nodded, wincing as he finished splinting his nose.

‘Bring the shotguns,’ he said. ‘I’m gonna take my time with the British a*shole. By the time I’m done, there’ll be nothing left of him to throw away.’

‘See you in five,’ the other man said.