Читать книгу Andrew Gross 3-Book Thriller Collection 2: 15 Seconds, Killing Hour, The Blue Zone - Andrew Gross, Andrew Gross - Страница 70

Kate knocked on the door of the dreary, seventies-contemporary house in Huntington, Long Island. It was desperately in need of a coat of paint. The heavyset man in thick glasses came to the door. As he saw her, his gaze shot past her toward the street. “You shouldn’t be here, Kate.”

“Howard, this is important, please.…”

Howard Kurtzman glanced at her arm in the sling, and a more submissive look came over his face. He opened the screen door, letting Kate in. He took her into the living room, a dim, low-ceilinged room with dark wood furniture and faded upholstery that looked like it hadn’t been re-covered in years.

“I told you in New York, I can’t help you, Kate. It’s not good for either of us that you’re here. I’m giving you a minute, whatever it is you want. Then you can leave by the door in the garage.”

“Howard, I know you know what happened. You have to talk to me.”

“Howard, is someone there?” His wife, Pat, stepped out of the kitchen. When she saw Kate, she stopped dead in her tracks. Kate had met her a few times at office gatherings over the years. “Kate …” she said. She looked at the sling. Then back at Howard.

“We were both sorry to hear about Sharon,” Howard said. He motioned Kate to sit, but she just leaned against the padded arm of the couch. “I have nothing but fond thoughts of your mother. She was always pleasant to me. But you see it now, don’t you? These are bad people, Kate.”

“You think they’re just going to forget about you, Howard? You think they’re just going to let you walk away, or that it ends just because you glance around the street both ways before you open the door? My mother’s dead, Howard. My father, I have no idea where he is or if he’s even alive. It didn’t end for him.” Kate picked up a framed picture of Howard’s family—grown kids, smiling grandchildren—from the side table. “This is your family. You think you’re free? Look at me.” She thrust forward her sling. “You know something, Howard. I know you do. Someone pressured you to turn him in.”

Howard adjusted his glasses. “No.”

“Then you were paid.… Please, Howard, I don’t give a damn what you did. That’s not why I’m here. I just need to find out about my father.”

“Kate, you don’t know what you’re even stepping into,” he said. “You’re married now. Move away. Rebuild your life. Start a family—”

“Howard.” Kate reached for his flabby, cold hand. “You don’t understand. Whoever you’re protecting, they tried to kill me, too!”

“Whoever I’m protecting …” Howard glanced toward his wife, then shut his eyes.

“Right after I met with you,” Kate said, “on the Harlem River, where I row. Was someone watching us, Howard? Did anyone know I was asking about him? I know things now about my father. I know he wasn’t exactly who I thought he was. But, please—my mother was trying to tell me something when she was killed. Why are you hiding things from me?”

“Because you don’t want to know, Kate!” The accountant stared back at her. “Because it was never, ever about a bunch of painted gold paperweights or Paz Exports. We always sold them the gold. You don’t understand—that was what your father did!”

Kate stared back at him. “What …?”

Howard took off his glasses. He dabbed at his brow, his complexion pasty white.

“You have to believe me,” he said. “I never, ever thought anyone would get hurt in this. Certainly not Sharon.” He sank into a chair. “Or, God forbid, you.”

“Someone did pressure you, didn’t they, Howard?” Kate went over and knelt in front of him. “I promise you’ll never hear from me again. But, please, you have to give me the truth.”

“The truth”—the accountant smiled hollowly—“it’s not at all what you think, Kate.”

“Then tell me. I just buried my mother, Howard.” Kate was more determined than she’d ever been. “This has to end, now.”

“I told you to stay out of it, didn’t I? I told you it was something you didn’t want to know. This was what we did! We moved money for Colombians, Kate, your father’s friends. That’s how you got your house, the fancy cars. You think I was disloyal? I loved your father, Kate. I would have done anything for your father.” He pressed his lips and nodded. “And I did.”

“What do you mean, you did, Howard? Who paid you to turn him in? You need to tell me, Howard? Who?”

When he replied, it was like some meteor slamming into her at an unimaginable speed, one world ending in a flash and another rising from the devastation, exploding in her eyes.

“Ben.” The accountant looked up, his eyes runny and wide. “Ben instructed me to go to the FBI. I was paid—by your father, Kate.”