Page 141 of Witness 8

Picking them up, one by one, he stared at them. As a cop and now a mob boss, Buchanan had to have a poker face for situations like this. But there was no way he could keep his feelings in check as he looked at those photographs. His eyes widened, lips parted. Like I’d just shown him a photo of his house in flames.

‘Where did you get these?’

‘I kept an eye on Ben Gray, like you should have done.’

His left arm slammed the table, the photographs jumped and I saw a large dent where his fist connected. He started swearing. I didn’t blame him.

The photographs were taken at different angles in the All American Diner. The place was busier than normal, with almost every available seat taken up by the voluminous number of junior associates in the employ of Al Parish. They had taken the photos for me. When I said they took up almost all of the seats, they did leave one free.

The seat at the counter, beside Sergeant Ben Gray. The photos had been taken last night, at seven in the evening. When I was supposed to meet District Attorney Castro to discuss a plea deal for John Jackson. I didn’t show. But Castro took the only available seat while he waited for me. That was the seat at the counter beside Sergeant Ben Gray. Castro is effectively his boss, and no way was Castro going to sit beside a cop and not at least say hello. They had some small talk while Castro waited for me.

Perfectly innocent.

Perfectly arranged and executed by Al’s associates, who had no idea of the significance of the meeting.

‘I take it that you didn’t know that Ben Gray was talking to the district attorney?’ I asked.

Buchanan rubbed his forehead, closed his eyes. Swore again.

‘You know Castro wears that white suit for a reason. He’s the anti-corruption DA. When my people showed me thesephotographs, I had them watch Gray’s house. He’s scared, Buchanan. He’s making a deal with the DA and then he’s going into witness protection. He’s got his traveling money all ready to—’

‘Traveling money?’ asked Buchanan.

‘If you go to his house now, you’ll find a blue gym bag with about two hundred grand in it. We saw him bring it into the house. I’d check the garage first. Cops are no good at hiding money. I’m guessing you didn’t know about this extra cash?’

Buchanan shook his head.

I didn’t tell him that my friend Bugs had broken into Gray’s house and left the gym bag behind some old cardboard boxes. Bugs had split the other fifty grand we’d taken from Mr. Christmas with his pals and right now they were on a Greyhound bound for Atlantic City.

I said, ‘I’m guessing this is money he skimmed off the top of the tow trucks and God knows what else. But it’s money that should have been split with you in the first place. Gray is getting ready to run. And he’s running straight into the arms of the white knight DA. If you don’t believe me, go over there right now and ask him about the gym bag. I bet he pretends he doesn’t know anything about it.’

The big man rolled his head back, rubbed his eyes, then sat forward and gathered up the photographs.

‘Like I told you,’ I said. ‘I’m not your problem. Ben Gray is your problem.’

Buchanan stood, said, ‘How do I know you’re not going to come after me or my people?’

I sat forward, said, ‘First, I don’t have any evidence against you. Second, like I said, I know how this town works. I can’t change that. I represent people who are falsely accused. Sometimes, I represent people who have made a mistake and got themselves in trouble. If they hold up their hands andplead guilty, I’ll help them change their lives. Everyone makes mistakes.Youmade a mistake by coming after me. If you call off the hit, I’m willing to give you a second chance, but with certain conditions.’

Buchanan studied me for a time. Like he was trying to read me. He had expected me to come in here and beg for my life, to cry for mercy and offer to pay him thousands of dollars to take the contract off my head. Now, he was in a totally different position. I was telling him I wouldallowhim to call off the hit, but he had to do something for me first.

‘What conditions?’

‘I’m willing to accept a truce with one condition. If you come after me, or any of my people again, I’ll kill you. Is that fair enough?’

I thought I detected a slight shiver of fear. A flash that came over his eyes. He looked over at the thin man, said, ‘Call off the hit on Flynn. Then get the car. We’re going to see Ben.’

‘Call the Christmas guy,’ I said. ‘Tell him the contract is off.’

‘He’s first on the list,’ said Buchanan as he got up, gathered the photographs and walked toward the exit. I could hear the mechanism for the roller doors activating.

‘You don’t want the TV guide?’ I asked.

There was no reply. He had already ducked under the doors.

I leaned back in the chair and let out my breath, unclenched my fists. That was damn close. Too close.

I rolled my shoulders to relieve the tension. Got up.