Rage of Angels by Sidney Sheldon

“I was just askin’.”

Dr. Mendoza examined Joshua’s other eye. “You are fit as a fiddle. That is the American slang expression, no?” He rose to his feet and closed his medical bag. “I would put some ice on that,” he told Jennifer. “Tomorrow the boy will be fine.”

It was as though a heavy load had been lifted from Jennifer’s heart. “Thank you,” she said.

“I will arrange the bill with the hotel cashier, senora. Good-bye, young man.”

“Good-bye, Doctor Mendoza.”

When the doctor had gone, Joshua turned to his mother. “You sure like to throw your money away, Mom.”

“I know. I like to waste it on things like food, your health—”

“I’m the healthiest man on the whole team.”

“Stay that way.”

He grinned. “I promise.”

They boarded the six o’clock plane to New York and were back in Sands Point late that night. Joshua slept all the way home.

 

 

48

 

The room was crowded with ghosts. Adam Warner was in his study, preparing a major television campaign speech, but it was impossible to concentrate. His mind was filled with Jennifer. He had been able to think of nothing else since he had returned from Acapulco. Seeing her had only confirmed what Adam had known from the beginning. He had made the wrong choice. He should never have given up Jennifer. Being with her again was a reminder of all that he had had, and thrown away, and he could not bear the thought of it.

He was in an impossible situation. A no-win situation, Blair Roman would have called it.

There was a knock on the door and Chuck Morrison, Adam’s chief assistant, came in carrying a cassette. “Can I talk to you a minute, Adam?”

“Can it wait, Chuck? I’m in the middle of—”

“I don’t think so.” There was excitement in Chuck Morrison’s voice.

“All right. What’s so urgent?”

Chuck Morrison moved closer to the desk. “I just got a telephone call. It could be some crazy, but if it’s not, then Christmas came early this year. Listen to this.”

He placed a cassette in the machine on Adam’s desk, pressed a switch and the tape began to play.

What did you say your name was?

It doesn’t matter. I won’t talk to anyone except Senator Warner.

The Senator is busy just now. Why don’t you drop him a note and I’ll see to—

No! Listen to me. This is very important. Tell Senator Warner I can deliver Michael Moretti to him. I’m taking my life in my hands making this phone call. Just give Senator Warner the message.

All right. Where are you?

I’m at the Capitol Motel on Thirty-second Street. Room Fourteen. Tell him not to come until after dark and to make sure he’s not followed. I know you’re taping this. If you play the tape for anyone but him, I’m a dead man.

There was a click and the tape ended.

Chuck Morrison said, “What do you think?”

Adam frowned. “The town is full of cranks. On the other hand, our boy sure knows what bait to use, doesn’t he? Michael—by God—Moretti!”

 

 

At ten o’clock that night, Adam Warner, accompanied by four secret service men, cautiously knocked at the door of Room 14 of the Capitol Motel. The door was opened a crack.

The moment Adam saw the face of the man inside, he turned to the men with him and said, “Stay outside. Don’t let anyone near this place.”

The door opened wider and Adam stepped into the room.

“Good evening, Senator Warner.”

“Good evening, Mr. Colfax.”

The two men stood there appraising each other.

Thomas Colfax looked older than when Adam had last seen him, but there was another difference, almost indefinable. And then Adam realized what it was. Fear. Thomas Colfax was frightened. He had always been a self-assured, almost arrogant man, and now that self-assurance had disappeared.

“Thank you for coming, Senator.” Colfax’s voice sounded strained and nervous.

“I understand you want to talk to me about Michael Moretti.”

“I can lay him in your lap.”

“You’re Moretti’s attorney. Why would you want to do that?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Let’s say I decided to go along with you. What would you expect in return?”