“Come on,” he said, waving her on with the gun. “Back to the car.”
She moved slowly, her body tense. She was thinking, he could tell, of sprinting into the woods.
“Don’t even think about running,” he said. “I was the best marksman in my class.”
When they reached the car, he told her to open the boot and stand back. When she did, he played his flashlight over the interior. But there weren’t any weapons there, nor did he see that damn valise David Franco had always been carrying. Of course, if it had fallen into his lap that easily, he might have thought a trap had been laid for him.
“Okay,” he said, closing the lid, “get in the car.”
He waited until she got in on the driver’s side, then slid into the passenger seat, with the gun still trained on her. “This could all have been avoided,” he said.
“If we’d let you steal the valise on the train?”
He gave her a cold smile. “Nice to know I’m remembered.” He opened the glove compartment and rummaged inside. “So, what time are David and your driver due back?” To encourage an honest answer, he touched the muzzle of the gun to her cheek.
“Get that thing out of my face,” she said with a snarl.
He had to give her that; she had guts to go along with her looks. “What time?” he repeated, glancing at the dashboard for the clock. There were so many goddamn dials and knobs and temperature controls that he couldn’t even locate it.
“Who are you, anyway?” she said. “Your accent sounds Swiss.”
“Swiss Guard,” he said, still proud of the credential, even if he had been dishonorably discharged.
Olivia scoffed. “You’re not working for the Pope tonight.”
“No,” he admitted, “I’m self-employed.”
She twiddled her fingers atop the steering wheel, as if she were waiting for a bad date to end, and Escher decided to move the car farther into the trees. When David and his friend came back, he wanted them to have to walk out into the clearing where he would have the drop on them.
“Tell you what,” he said. “I know a better place where we can wait for your friends. Put the car in gear, and drive out … slowly. If you touch the horn, I’ll kill you where you sit.”
Olivia did as she was told, her mind racing a mile a minute. She started the car, and the seat-belt warning bell began its rhythmic chime. She buckled up, and said, “You do it, too, or that damn thing will keep on ringing.”
A plan was already forming in her head. But could she possibly pull it off?
Without taking his eyes off her, Escher reached over and slung the seat belt across his chest.
Olivia fumbled around, pretending to look for the headlights switch. The car was already facing the road, as Ascanio had earlier instructed her to have it positioned. But the delay allowed her to hit the button on her armrest that lowered her own window, and then hit another that clicked the doors locked.
“Stop fucking around,” Escher said, flicking the gun barrel up from his waist.
“Give me a break,” she said. “I’ve never driven this thing before.”
She glanced up at the rearview mirror, tilting it to get a good look at what was right behind her.
And it was the loading dock and the wooden wharf beyond it.
As she took hold of the gearshift, Escher sat back in his seat, the gun down, and said, “Steer toward those trees up ahead.” Discreetly, and with one foot still on the brake, she put the car into reverse and undid her own seat belt. The chime started ringing again.
“Why is that damn bell ringing?” he said, but then his whole body jerked forward as she took her foot off the brake and slammed it down on the gas pedal, pushing it all the way to the floor. The car rocketed backwards. She held the wheel firmly to keep it on course, but the bumpy ground bucketed them around as the gun went off with a deafening blast, blowing a hole in the dashboard. She was barely able to steer the car across the dock before, with a stomach-dropping sensation, she felt it hurtle off the end of the wharf and into the empty air.
The splash, a second later, rocked the car like a seesaw, as water gushed in through her open window.
But Olivia was already scrambling out of it. Escher was struggling to unfasten his belt with one hand and jerking madly at his locked door with the other.
She was almost clear when she felt his hand groping at her legs, trying to drag her back inside, but all he got was one of her shoes.