`Don’t you think we check things like that?’ I shrugged. Didn’t reply.
`You better not be bullshitting, my friend,’ Picard said. `Kliner wouldn’t like that. It’ll make it worse for the woman. He’s got a cruel streak in him a mile wide. Believe me, I’ve seen him in action.’
`Like when?’ I said.
`Lots of times,’ he said. `Like Wednesday, at the airport. That woman, Molly Beth. Screamer, he enjoys that. Like Sunday. Up at the Morrison place.’
`Kliner was there Sunday?’ I said.
`He loved it,’ Picard said. `Him and his damn son. You did the world a favour, taking that kid out. You should have seen him on Sunday. We gave those two cops the day off. Didn’t seem right they should off their own chief. The Kliners and I stood in for them. The old man loved every minute of it. Cruel streak, a mile wide, like I said. You better make sure I get to make that call on time, or your woman friend’s in a lot of trouble.’
I went quiet for a moment. I’d seen the Kliner kid on Sunday. He’d picked his stepmother up from the coffee shop. About ten thirty. He’d been
staring at me. He’d been on his way back from dismembering the Morrisons.
`Did old man Kliner shoot my brother?’ I asked Picard.
`Thursday night?’ he said. `Sure. That’s his weapon, the .22 with the suppressor.’
`And then the kid kicked him around?’ I said.
Picard shrugged.
,The kid was berserk,’ he said. `Wrong in the head.’
`And then Morrison was supposed to clean up?’ I said.
`Supposed to,’ Picard grunted. `Asshole was supposed to burn the bodies in the car. But he couldn’t find Stoller’s body. So he just left both of them there.’
`And Kliner killed eight guys in Louisiana, right?’ I said.
Picard laughed.
`Eight they know about,’ he said. `That asshole Spirenza was on his back for a year. Looking for payments to a shooter. But there never was a shooter. Kliner did it all himself. Like a hobby, right?’
`You knew Kliner back then?’ I said.
`I’ve always known Kliner,’ he said. `Got myself assigned as Spirenza’s Bureau liaison. Kept everything neat and tidy.’
We drove on in silence for a mile or two. The two guys in the plain sedan kept station a hundred yards behind the Bentley. Then Picard looked at me.
`This guy Lennon?’ he said. `He’s not another damn Treasury spook working for your brother, right?’
`Friend of Hubble’s,’ I said.
`Like hell,’ he said. `We checked, he’s got no friends in Augusta. Hell, he’s got no friends anywhere. He thought Kliner was his damn friend, giving him a job and all.’
Picard started chuckling to himself in the passenger seat. His giant frame was shaking with mirth.
`Like Finlay thought you were his friend, right?’ I said.
He shrugged.
`I tried to keep him away,’ he said. `I tried to warn him off. So what should I do? Get myself killed on his behalf?’
I didn’t answer that. We cruised on in silence. The plain sedan sat steady, a hundred yards back. `We need gas,’ I said.
Picard craned over and peered at the needle. It was nudging the red.
`Pull over at the next place,’ he said.
I saw a sign for gas near a place called Madison. I pulled off and drove the Bentley over to the pumps. Chose the furthest island and eased to a stop.
`Are you going to do this for me?’ I asked Picard. He looked at me in surprise.
`No,’ he said. `What the hell do you think I am? A damn pump jockey? Do it yourself.’
That was the answer I wanted to hear. I got out of the car. Picard got out on the other side. The plain sedan pulled up close by and the two guys got out. I looked them over. They were the same two I’d scuffled with in New York, on that crowded sidewalk outside Kelstein’s college. The smaller guy had his khaki raincoat on. I nodded amiably to the two of them. I figured they had less than an hour to live. They strolled over and stood with