Gin Palace 01 - The Poisoned Rose

while ago and they said she and Lizzie took the car and went somewhere.”
    “Call Eddie, have him swing by their house. Have him keep a look out.”
    “Did that already.”
    “I’m heading that way now. I’ll stop by my place and see if Tina’s there. She might be waiting for me.”
    “I appreciate that, Mac.” He paused briefly. “What’s going on, son? You sound … funny.”
    “I’m going to make a quick run somewhere. I’ll be back in about two hours.”
    “A quick run where?”
    “Not far. I’ll come straight to your house when I’m done.”
    “Call me when you get to your place. Let me know if Tina’s there.”
    “Of course. I should be there in forty-five minutes. I’ll talk to you then.”
    “Hang on a second, there was something Frank wanted me to tell you in case you called.”
    “What?”
    “He said the old man died this afternoon. Does that mean anything to you?”
    I looked across the street and saw Marie waiting for me in her car. She was in the passenger seat, looking at a map. I noticed then that the Saab wasn’t new. It was an older model. The black paint job was what looked new.
    I said into the phone, “Yeah, Augie. It does.”
    “Do you want to fill me in?”
    “It means all hell is about to break loose.”
    I said good-bye and hung up. I walked back to Marie’s Saab and got in behind the wheel. She folded the map and tossed it into her open glove compartment. I saw it land on top of a sheathed knife—a skin diver’s knife. It covered the knife completely. Then Marie swung the compartment door shut.
    “Everything okay?” she said.
    “We need to make a quick stop at my apartment. We’ll be fine, no one will be looking for us there.”
    “How can you be sure?”
    “If we’re hiding, it’s the last place we’d be.”
    “What’s wrong, Mac? You look a little white.”
    I didn’t know how else to break the news to her, so I just came out and said, “Your father died today. I was just told. I’m sorry, Marie.”
    She considered that for a moment, staring at me blankly. Then she nodded once and turned her head and looked out the passenger door window.
    The reaction of someone on a tranquilizer, I thought.
    She was silent for a long moment, then said, “Get me out of here, Mac. While there’s still time.”
    I shifted into gear and steered out onto the narrow two-lane road down which waited a darkness far greater than any night I have ever known.

Chapter Thirteen

    I could see the Hansom House through the windshield as we parked alongside the curb. I could see there was a light in my windows on the third floor. I knew that Tina was there, waiting for me. I undid my seat belt and looked at Marie.
    She seemed more preoccupied than anything else, calm but not at all serene. We hadn’t spoken once during the entire drive in from Montauk.
    “You okay?” I said.
    Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, but not on anything in particular. She nodded.
    “I’m sorry about your father.”
    She shrugged, almost indifferently. “I said good-bye to him a long time ago. I mourned him then, too. Let’s just get out of here, Mac. Let’s just go, okay?”
    “I won’t be long. If anything should happen, if someone starts toward the car, just drive away, okay? I won’t let them follow, I promise that.”
    She nodded. I grabbed my denim jacket and got out. I followed the path to the front door and climbed the first flight, then the second. At the end of my dark hallway was my door. I headed to it, inserted my key into the lock and turned the knob, then swung the door in and entered, closing the door behind me.
    I took a step into the living room, tossing the jacket onto my couch and calling Tina’s name .
    I heard nothing.
    Something told me then to look to my left. I did, facing my bedroom. There she was, standing in the doorway. She was looking at me but in a strange way—strange even for her. I’d never seen this look on her face before. I stared at her for a second, but by the time I sensed trouble, by the time I realized that something was going on, it was already too late.
    He stepped out of the kitchen, slowly. I turned to my right and saw him, saw his ugly, beaten face, his pock-marks and crooked nose. I heard a man’s voice behind me, a voice that caused me even more concern than the sight of Searls in my kitchen door.
    I turned toward the voice. Tina had moved out of the bedroom doorway and was standing in the living room now. The owner of the voice was