They reached the baggage carousel and pressed in among the other passengers. The baggage from Derek’s flight was just beginning to appear.
“There’s one thing that I think you ought to know,” Shanahan said. “There was a botched attempt on the doctor’s life last night.”
“Thank you for your forthrightness,” Derek said. “That is indeed an important point. What you mean to say, of course, is that the man will be highly vigilant.”
“Something like that,” Shanahan said.
A shrill beeping sound made the tense Shanahan jump. It took him a moment to realize it was his pager. Surprised at being paged since Bobby Bo knew where he was and what he was doing, Shanahan snapped the pager off his belt and glanced at the small LCD screen. He was further confused because he didn’t recognize the number.
“Would you mind if I used a phone?” Shanahan said. He pointed to a bank of pay phones lining a nearby wall.
“Not at all,” Derek said. He was contentedly studying the information sheet on Kim.
Finding a few coins in his pocket en route to the phone, Shanahan quickly dialed the mysterious number. The phone was picked up on the first ring. It was Carlos.
“The doctor is here!” Carlos said in an excited, forced whisper.
“Where the hell are you talking about?” Shanahan asked.
“Here at Higgins and Hancock,” Carlos said, keeping his voice low. “I’m using the phone in the lunchroom. This has to be fast. The doctor is working here as a slop boy. He looks crazy, man.”
“What are you talking about?” Shanahan asked.
“He looks weird,” Carlos said. “He looks like an old rock singer. His hair’s cut short and what’s left is blond.”
“You’re joking,” Shanahan said.
“No, man!” Carlos insisted. “He’s also got stitches on his face where I cut him. It’s him, I know it is, although I had to look at him for a couple of minutes before I was sure. Then he came all the way around to my station and stood there for a couple of minutes until the boss came and dragged him away.”
“What boss?” Shanahan asked.
“Jed Street,” Carlos said.
“Did the doctor recognize you?” Shanahan asked.
“Sure, why not?” Carlos said. “He was staring at me. For a minute I was thinking he might come after me, but he didn’t. If he had I would have done him in. You want me to do it anyway? I can get him while he’s here?”
“No!” Shanahan shouted, losing control of himself for a moment. He knew that if Carlos killed Kim in the middle of the day with a hundred witnesses it would be a disaster. Shanahan took a deep breath and then spoke quietly and slowly. “Don’t do anything. Pretend you don’t recognize him. Just stay cool. I’ll get word to you. Understand?”
“I want to do this guy,” Carlos said. “I told you I don’t want the money.”
“That’s very generous of you,” Shanahan said. “Of course, you were the one who screwed up to begin with, but that’s not the point at the moment. I’ll get word to you, okay?”
“Okay,” Carlos said.
Shanahan hung up the phone. He kept his hand on the receiver while he looked over at Derek Leutmann. This was a quandary. For the moment he didn’t know what to do.
An unexpected tapping on the driver’s-side window made Tracy’s heart skip a beat. During the time that she’d been parked at the end of the slaughterhouse, she’d seen occasional people coming and going from their vehicles. But no one had come near her car. Hastily Tracy pulled off the stereo headphones and turned to look out the window.
Standing next to the car was a grisly man clad in soiled overalls and a dirty turtleneck. On his head was a baseball hat turned backwards. Glued to his lower lip was an unlit cigarette that bobbed up and down as he breathed through his open mouth.
Tracy’s first impulse was to start the car and drive away. That idea was abandoned when she remembered the antenna teetering on the roof. Feeling she had little choice, she cracked the window.
“I saw you from my truck,” the man said. He pointed over his shoulder at a neighboring van.