“You’re not supposed to be down here,” Wilkey replied. He set the apparatus back on the table with the utmost care.
“Dr. Knox owes me money.” Johnny glanced at Ada. “And an explanation as to why he’s taking my people.”
“You’re dead, remember?” Wilkey said. “They aren’t your people anymore. And none of the other hemos you’ve given us survived the tests.”
“That’s not my problem. I delivered on my end of the deal, and I want my money. Where’s Knox?”
“Busy.”
Ada’s head was pounding with every word they spoke. She thought about Stuart Delaney and the other Red Cat musicians Charlie said had gone missing. Her heart was stuttering as she looked down the length of the room at all the silent beds. Johnny had been selling hemos to the HPA? He’d been selling them into this hell?
She was misunderstanding. She had to be. She coughed around the gag, desperate to speak.
Johnny leaned over and loosened the straps behind her head, ignoring Wilkey’s objections. The gag fell into her lap, and she sucked in a breath.
“Johnny”—but that was all she could manage. Her eyes were burning with tears again.
“Are you okay?” he asked her. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get you out of here.”
Wilkey laughed shortly. “As amusing as your selective compassion is, Dervish, you’re not taking her anywhere. Dr. Knox has big plans for this one, and the other two you’ve been keeping all to yourself.”
“They’re just kids,” Johnny snapped.
“So were a lot of the others,” Wilkey said, gesturing toward the long line of beds. “And none of them were half as potent as this one. Dr. Knox isn’t going to—”
The door flew open again. It was Dr. Knox this time, dragging Corinne by the arm. Ada wasn’t sure if she was relieved or furious to see her down here again. They both stopped in their tracks when they saw Johnny.
“Johnny, you— I thought you were—” Corinne sputtered. She looked at Dr. Knox, then at Ada, but no explanation seemed forthcoming.
“Knox, just what do you think you’re doing?” Johnny asked. His voice was low, dangerous.
Dr. Knox licked his lips, opened his mouth, shut it again. He had dropped Corinne’s arm, but she didn’t move. She was still staring at Johnny, her features balled up in confusion.
“My job,” Dr. Knox said at last.
“We had a deal,” Johnny said. “I want my money.”
“Right, right,” Dr. Knox said, bobbing his head. There was something wrong with him. He seemed bewildered. “Agent Wilkey, if you would be so kind as to—”
But he cut himself off and frowned.
Wilkey was shaking his head and chuckling. “Slagger bastard,” he said, drawing his gun. “You almost had me.”
“What are you talking about?” Knox demanded. He threw out an arm to shove Corinne back as she tried to move forward, which was the moment when Ada put it together.
“Knox’s eyes aren’t blue,” Wilkey said, raising the gun.
Before his finger made it to the trigger, Johnny whirled on him, something glinting in his hand. Ada saw that it was his pocket-knife half a second before he sliced it across Wilkey’s throat. For a moment everything was still. Wilkey coughed once. It was a wet, horrible sound. The gun fell to the floor, and he pressed his hands against his neck. They were immediately rimmed with blood. He staggered, and Johnny gave him a shove. Johnny’s expression was one of pure disgust as he watched Wilkey fall.
“I never liked you much,” he said to the twitching form. Then he cast an appraising glance over Dr. Knox, who seemed to be sagging around the edges. “Let me guess. James Gretsky?”
“We all thought you were dead,” James said, becoming himself again in less than the time it took for Ada to blink.
“How did you even get in here?” Johnny asked. He knelt down and started unbuckling Ada’s ankles.
“We called ahead,” Corinne said. “James imitated Mr. Haversham so that the nurse would have the gate open.”
“And she bought that?”
“There may have been a very persuasive French horn in the background,” James said.
“Where have you been?” Corinne asked.
“I’m sorry,” Johnny said. He pushed his hands through his greasy hair. “I had to take care of some things, but it’s over now.”
He met Ada’s eyes, and she felt him searching her. Trying to guess how much she had figured out. How much she was going to tell the others.
“Johnny, why?” she whispered.
She could see in his expression that his mind was racing, but she couldn’t tell what choices he was weighing. She did know the moment he made his decision. She saw it in the set of his jaw, in the flash of regret in his eyes. He stopped his work, having freed only her left ankle, and sat back on his heels.
“You were never supposed to know,” he said softly. “I tried to keep you both out of it.”
“What are you talking about?” Corinne asked.