Rage of Angels by Sidney Sheldon

“Are they treating you all right?”

He cast a covert look at the guard standing near the door. “Yeah. Okay.”

“I’ve applied for bail for you.”

“What are the chances?” Bjork was unable to conceal the hope in his voice.

“I think they’re pretty good. It will be two or three days at the most.”

“I have to get out of this place.”

Jennifer rose to her feet. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks,” Stefan said. He held out his hand.

The guard said sharply, “No!”

They both turned.

“No touching.”

Stefan Bjork gave Jennifer a look and then said hoarsely, “Hurry!”

 

 

When Jennifer returned to her hotel, there was a telephone message that Inspector Touh had called. As she was reading it, the phone rang. It was the inspector.

“While you are waiting, Miss Parker, I thought you might enjoy a little tour of our city.”

Jennifer’s first reaction was to say no, but she realized there was nothing she could do until she had Bjork safely on a plane out of here. Until then, it was important to keep Inspector Touh’s goodwill.

Jennifer said, “Thank you. I would enjoy that.”

 

 

They stopped to have lunch at Kampachi, and then headed for the countryside, driving north on Bukit Timah Road to Malaysia, going through a series of colorful little villages with a variety of food stands and shops. The people seemed well-dressed and prosperous looking. Jennifer and Inspector Touh stopped at the Kranji Cemetery and War Memorial, walking up the steps and through the open blue gates. In front of them was a large marble cross, and in the background an enormous column. The cemetery was a sea of white crosses.

“The war was very bad for us,” Inspector Touh said. “We all lost many friends and family members.”

Jennifer said nothing. Her mind could see a grave in Sands Point. But she could not let herself think about what lay beneath the small mound.

 

 

In Manhattan, a meeting of law enforcement agencies was in progress at the Police Intelligence Unit on Hudson Street. There was an air of jubilation in the crowded room. Many of the men had gone into the investigation with cynicism, for they had been through this kind of exercise before. Over the past years they had managed to accumulate overwhelming evidence against mobsters and murderers and blackmailers, and in case after case, high-priced legal talent had won acquittals for the criminals they represented. This time it was going to be different. They had the testimony of the Consigliere Thomas Colfax, and no one would be able to shake him. For more than twenty-five years he had been the linchpin of the mob. He would go into court, give names, dates, facts and figures. And now they were being given the go-ahead to move.

Adam had worked harder than anyone in the room to make this moment happen. It was to have been the triumphal carriage that would take him to the White House. Now that the moment was here, it had turned to ashes. In front of Adam was a list of people who had been indicted by the special grand jury. The fourth name on the list was Jennifer Parker, and the charges opposite her name were murder and conspiracy to commit half a dozen different federal crimes.

Adam Warner looked around the room and forced himself to speak. “You’re—you’re all to be congratulated.”

He tried to say more, but the words would not come out. He was filled with such self-loathing that it was a physical pain.

 

 

The Spanish are right, Michael Moretti thought. Vengeance is a dish best eaten cold. The only reason Jennifer Parker was still alive was because she was out of his reach. But she would be returning soon. And in the meantime, Michael could savor what was going to happen to her. She had betrayed him in every way a woman could betray a man. For that he was going to see that she received special attention.

 

 

In Singapore, Jennifer tried again to put a call through to Michael.

“I’m sorry,” the switchboard operator told her, “the circuits to the United States are busy.”