Ah, Jesus , thought Kurtz. This old fart gets his material from villains in B movies.
"I'm a police officer," said Rigby. It was the first full sentence she'd completed since Kurtz had been sitting on the grass with her.
"Yes, Miss King Detective King," said the Major. "We know who you are."
"Then you know what a bad idea this is," said Rigby, her voice low but solid. "Get these cuffs off us this minute and we'll let it slide for now. We were trespassing."
The Major smiled again, shook his head almost sadly, and turned toward Kurtz. "I think it was very clever of your masters to send the policewoman along, Mr. Kurtz. If circumstances were different, it might might have been a disincentive to what has to happen next."
Aw, shit , thought Kurtz. He said, "What masters?" The Major's smile disappeared. "Don't insult my intelligence, Mr. Kurtz. It makes perfect sense that they sent youwith your policewoman chippie here as an escort From what we can glean, you're one of the few people that both the Gonzaga and Farino families do business with."
"Chippie?" said Rigby. She sounded more amused than insulted.
Colonel Vin Trinh stepped forward and slapped Rigby hard across the mouth. He wiped the blood from his knuckles with a silk handkerchief, took Kurtz's holstered.38 from one of the Vietnamese men, and held his arm at full length, the muzzle inches from Rigby's temple. Kurtz was reminded of a famous photo from the Vietnam era, taken during the Tet Offensive he thought, where a Saigon chief of police had summarily executed a Viet Cong suspect in the street.
Trinh cocked the pistol. "If you say one more word without being told to," he said in almost unaccented English, "I will kill you now."
Rigby looked at the tall man.
"What do you want?" Kurtz said to the Major.
The old man in the wheelchair sighed. The bodyguard in the blazer had moved behind the chair, hands on its grips, obviously ready to move the crippled man back deeper into the shade should the sun encroach or Kurtz or Rigby make any sudden move. Or to get him out of the path of any arterial sprays , thought Kurtz.
"We want the obvious, Mr. Kurtz," said the Major. "We want an end to this war. Isn't that what your masters sent you down here to discuss?"
War ? thought Kurtz. According to both Toma Gonzaga and Angelina Farino Ferrara, they didn't have a clue as to who was killing their junkies. They certainly had never talked about fighting backabout any war. Was all that ignorance a ruse to get Kurtz involved? It didn't make much sense.
He said nothing.
"Did they send you with terms?" asked the Major. "Or shall we propose our own?"
Colonel Vin Trinh's arm was still rigid, the hammer on Kurtz's.38 was still cocked. The muzzle ten inches from Rigby's head did not waver by so much as a millimeter.
Kurtz said nothing.
"For instance, what would it be worth to you for us to spare Miss King's life?" said the old man.
Kurtz remained silent.
"She means nothing to you?" said the Major. "But you were fellow orphans together as children. You were in the army together. Surely that must have created some bond, Mr. Kurtz."
Kurtz smiled. "If you've got my military records," he said, "look at them more carefully. This bitch is one of the reasons I was court-martialed."
Major Michael O'Toole nodded. "Yes, that fact is in your records. But you were not, as it turned out, dishonorably discharged, Sergeant Kurtz. The charges appeared to have been dropped. Perhaps you and she have made up?" He showed hard white teeth.
"This isn't about her or me," said Kurtz. "What do you want?"
O'Toole nodded at Trinh, who lowered the hammer, stepped back, and slid Kurtz's pistol into his belt The man had a stomach flatter than most fences.
"We need to meet, your masters and I," said the Major, speaking in a rapid, clear clip that must have been perfected in a thousand briefings. "This war has become too expensive for both sides."
Rigby glanced over at Kurtz as if seeking to find out if any of this made any sense to him. Kurtz's face revealed nothing.
"When?" said Kurtz.
"Tomorrow. Noon. Both Gonzaga and the Farino daughter must come. They can each bring one bodyguard, but everyone will be disarmed before the meeting."
"Where?"
"This town," said the old man, sweeping his powerful-looking right arm toward Neola visible in the valley to the northwest. With the sunlight gone, all color had faded from the trees and the steeples visible were more a dismal, chimney gray than a New England white. "It has to be in Neola. Sheriff Gerey here" The Major nodded toward the sheriff who never changed his bassett-hound
expression or blinked. "Sheriff Gerey will provide security for all of us and offer the meeting space. You still have that secure conference room in the back of the station, Sheriff?"
"Yeah."
"There you have it," said the Major. "Any questions?"
"You're letting both of us go back, right?" said Kurtz.
The Major looked at Colonel Vin Trinh, then at Rigby, then at Kurtz, and smiled. "Wrong, Mr. Kurtz. Detective King stays as our guest until after this conference."