Part 25 (2/2)

Evidently he'd overheard what Drummond said about the Bank of Antigua and was looking to get in on the money himself*how else to explain his furtive solo entry coupled with the destruction of the eavesdropping device? His problem was Drummond never identified the card by name; he'd merely tapped it.

'Which one is what?' what?' Charlie said. Charlie said.

Pitman grabbed him by the collar and thrust his face toward the desktop. The bulb of Charlie's nose flattened against the blotter. The cartilage was a hair's breadth from exploding when Pitman jerked him to a stop.

'Why make this hard on yourself, Charlie?'

'I don't know what you want,' Charlie said, trying to buy time to think.

No doubt Pitman could torture him into revealing it was the Sears card. Probably the spook knew dark artistry that would hurt just to hear about. And even more disturbing: Once Pitman got what he wanted, he couldn't risk Charlie breathing a word of what had happened.

'I know it's not one of the gas station cards, because you can't buy a blender at a gas station,' Pitman said. 'So, which is it? Nordstrom's? Spiegel? Sears? JCPenney?'

Charlie felt the heat of Pitman's scrutiny with the mention of each. 'Really, I have no idea what you're talking about,' he said.

'Do you have Alzheimer's too? I overheard your entire conversation.'

Pitman gripped the Colt by the barrel and appeared only to flick it. When the handle struck Charlie's nose, though, it felt like a wrecking ball. Hot blood burst from his nostrils, he saw at least two of everything in the room, and he wanted to shriek. But while shrieking would release some of the pain, it would get the neighbors' attention, and draw the police. Then Pitman would simply flash his G-man badge and drag Charlie somewhere else to torture him.

Which would foil Charlie's nascent escape plan.

So instead of shrieking, Charlie dug his nails into the wooden frame of his chair, sucked back the blood, and said, 'Oh, I get it, you mean the numbered bank account.'

'So pain helps jog your memory. Good.' Pitman positioned himself so he stood directly above Charlie. He took Charlie's right ring finger in a tight grip, then raised it as high as he could in preparation for plunging it into the sharp edge of the desktop. 'I'm going to break your fingers, one at a time, until you tell me which card it is.'

Charlie had no doubt the maneuver would break his finger. The question was whether it would break the finger off off. 'Okay, okay, okay! Uncle!'

Pitman let Charlie's hand fall but kept the gun pointed at him. 'Which?'

The bright red Sears card sat in the very center of the blotter. Trying to block it from his consciousness, Charlie inched a hand toward the JCPenney card. The nose of the Colt mirrored his motion.

'JCPenney?' Pitman asked.

'Yeah,' Charlie said in defeat.

He grabbed at his nose, as if to staunch the blood. In the process he elbowed the JCPenney card. It skidded off the desk and clicked to the floor. 'Sorry,' he said.

As Pitman knelt to pick up the Penney's card, Charlie s.n.a.t.c.hed the Sears card, wound up, and fired it toward the bathroom. Its flight was clumsy*end over end, as opposed to the laser beam he'd envisioned. The motion caught Pitman's eye. He looked up from his kneel as the card landed, with a splash, in the toilet bowl*or, as Charlie thought of it, the bull's-eye.

'It was the Sears card, wasn't it?' Pitman asked.

Charlie looked away and said nothing.

'I should have known from the way you avoided looking at it.' Pitman stood and pointed the Colt at him. 'Get it out and lick it clean.'

Charlie rose. From the desk, Pitman matched his movements with the nose of the Colt. Fearing another pistol-whipping, Charlie steered clear of it.

When in range of the bathroom, he lunged, grabbed the handle of the flush chain hanging from the overhead cistern, and pulled as hard as he could. Water rushed into the bowl with astounding power. The Sears card would almost surely go down the drain.

Pitman dove headlong from the desk and toward the bowl. Charlie threw all his weight against the inside of the bathroom door. The face of the door met Pitman's jaw squarely with a sound neighbors might have mistaken for a bowling ball that had fallen from the top shelf of a closet.

Pitman toppled backward. Still he managed to keep the muzzle of the Colt on line with Charlie's face. Until he slipped on a greasy take-out container top. The base of his skull smacked into a sharp edge of the desktop. He collapsed to the floor.

47.

Charlie knelt over Pitman and jostled him back into consciousness. Pitman's eyes opened and he appeared to regain focus. Charlie flashed the Colt. 'What happened to my father?' over Pitman and jostled him back into consciousness. Pitman's eyes opened and he appeared to regain focus. Charlie flashed the Colt. 'What happened to my father?'

'I don't know. How long have I been unconscious?'

'Like, ten seconds.'

Pitman inched a hand toward his waistband.

'While you were out, I put that SIG Sauer P two-two-eight of yours in a safe place,' Charlie said. 'Now, where'd they take him?'

'I don't know.'

'You're lying.'

'You memorized the number on the Sears card, didn't you?'

'Is the number your price for information?'

'It could be.'

'Why would I trust you?'

'What choice do you have?'

Charlie eyed the Colt.

Pitman laughed. 'If you fire that in here, either half the neighborhood will hear it and call the cops, or the cops will hear it themselves, and after I identify myself and explain the situation to them, you and I will go somewhere else and take our sweet time on your recollection of the account number.'

'All right. I'll use this then.' Charlie uncradled the telephone on the desk.

'For what?'

'I'll say you came here to apprehend my father's retirement fund, rather than apprehend me*I'll bet you didn't even tell anyone you'd heard me with your bug.'

'Who can you call?'

'Anybody. Your colleagues will hear me whoever I call.'

'Then they'll know you're here.' here.'

'Then they'll know we're we're here, you mean. And they'll put you in jail for a long time. If you're lucky.' here, you mean. And they'll put you in jail for a long time. If you're lucky.'

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