Part 24 (1/2)
”You're kidding,” she said. ”Don't play games with me. This is not the day, and I don't have time for jokes.”
”I a.s.sure you it's no game,” said Robert. ”We think the evidence is hidden in one of the crypts here in the cemetery.”
”You mean in the mausoleum where the guard was killed?”
”Right. Rothschild's men shot him to death. We barely got away.” Marilyn searched his face.
”This is no bull,” Robert continued. ”I wouldn't call you out on a day like this unless it was the absolute truth.” Marilyn breathed a deep sigh. ”So what do we do?”
”We need you to serve this court order. Then, if the evidence is there, we'll move the casket to a safe place. Thorne and I will take it from there. From what Charlie showed me, I don't think we'll have any problems getting the right people to listen.”
”Of course now that you know, you'll be a target. I'm sorry Marilyn, but I didn't trust anyone else.”
Marilyn smiled. ”I'm glad to hear you trust me. I won't let you down. Now, where's that court order?”
Robert handed her the order and she looked it over. ”Judge Bonner.
How'd you get that old fart to move so fast? He wouldn't sign a search warrant for me and I practically had a murderer strapped to a victim.”
”Let's just say he's a friend of a friend. We better get started and make sure they understand this is a confidential matter. They can't be present when the casket is opened.”
”I understand,” said Marilyn. ”Let's go.” Robert grabbed her arm. ”Thanks Marilyn. I won't forget this.” Marilyn's smile widened. ”Oh, I don't plan to let you.” They stepped out, game faces on. Thorne scanned the area, both hands gripping the machine gun, ”All clear out here,” she said. ”But we better hurry.”
”I'm on it,” said Marilyn. She marched inside the building. Thorne looked over at Robert. ”Well?”
”She's with us on this.”
”She'd better be. I don't need much of a reason to blow her away.” Robert ran his eyes across the grounds, searching. ”Let's just get the evidence and get the h.e.l.l out'a dodge.”
”Here she comes,” said Thorne.
A heavyset man in a dark gray pinstriped suit accompanied Marilyn.
His eyes puffy and red, he waddled more than walked.
”This is Larry Welsh. He's agreed to cooperate fully, no questions asked,” said Marilyn.
Mr. Welsh sweated profusely. ”Did you hear the news? Those towel heads shot the President. I told my wife we can't trust the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, not as far as we can throw'em.”
”Thank you Mr. Welsh,” said Marilyn. ”Now if you'll just arrange to have the crypt opened for us, we'll be on our way.”
”Right away,” said Welsh. ”On your way out, stop by the office and sign the release.”
”No problem,” said Marilyn. ”And thanks again for your cooperation.”
Fl.u.s.tered, Mr. Welsh hustled across the lawn towards the groundskeepers, about a hundred yards away. Robert, Thorne, and Marilyn drove to the mausoleum and parked. Robert looked back at Marilyn.
”Have you heard anything about President Claymore we haven't heard on the news?”
”Not much. It looks like the work of Islamic fanatics, but the shooters haven't been identified and no group has claimed the attack.” Robert looked at Thorne. ”We think it's the same group that attacked us a few nights ago.”
Marilyn sat forward, mouth agape. ”Attacked you?”
”Yes,” said Robert. ”We'll fill you in after we secure the evidence, but we think Rothschild may have hired them.”
”Two Presidents,” mouthed Marilyn, anger in her voice. ”I'm gonna make sure I'm there when they haul his a.s.s in.” They got out and went inside. Robert quickly located the crypt with Julie Rice's name on it.
”Julie Rice,” said Marilyn. ”Who's she?”
”She was a friend of Charlie Ivory,” said Robert. ”They both lived on the street.”
”How did you figure it out?” Marilyn asked.
”What does it matter?” snapped Thorne. ”Let's just get this over with, fast!”
Marilyn smiled. ”Just a little professional curiosity, that's all,” she said. ”No need to get your thong twisted.” The groundskeepers entered, to Robert's relief. Thorne looked as though she might shoot Marilyn between the eyes.
”Over here, gentlemen,” said Marilyn, waving them over.
Four groundskeepers went to work on the crypt, removed the bolts that held the marble headstone in place, and lowered the slab of rock to the floor. They pushed a long wooden gurney into place just below the tomb, less than six inches from the wall, and carefully placed the dark wooden casket on the gurney.
Robert gently ran his fingers across the top of it. ”Ok, let's get it loaded in the truck,”
The groundskeepers pulled weapons from their overalls, screaming for them not to move. Robert reached for the Uzi, but froze when he felt the cold tap of steel against his temple. He raised his hands in the air and turned. Marilyn!
”Well, well, Mr. Veil,” she laughed. ”Don't look so glum. Did you really think you'd get to waltz out of here with one of the few wonders left in this world?”
”I knew I'd have a problem, but obviously I didn't think it'd be you.”
”Better luck next time. Oh I'm sorry, there won't be a next time.” She kissed Robert on the cheek. ”What a shame. I thought I'd get another little taste before we killed you.”
”You sick b.i.t.c.h,” said Thorne, her hands raised, her face calm. ”I knew it'd be your sorry a.s.s.”
”That's funny,” said Marilyn, taking Robert's guns. ”If you know so much, then why am I about to kill your sorry a.s.s?” The groundskeepers disarmed Thorne. ”That remains to be seen,” she said, smiling.
Marilyn stomped over and backhanded Thorne across the face. His partner's head snapped backward. When it returned, the smile remained.
”Ok, let's get it loaded in their truck,” said Marilyn. ”I'll call the others.”
Two of the men quickly rolled the casket outside while the others held them at gunpoint. Marilyn spoke into a small walkie-talkie, and a few minutes later Mr. Welsh, a silencer stuck in his back, walked in, trailed by the weasel they'd run into several times earlier. Welsh, shaking, and sweating profusely, urinated in his pants. Marilyn tossed the weasel Robert's gun.
”Well, h.e.l.lo Mr. Veil,” said Simon. ”It's so nice to see you again.”
”Go to h.e.l.l,” said Robert.
”I'm sure that's in the cards one day,” said Simon, putting Robert's gun to the back of Mr. Welsh's head. ”But not today.”