Hard Fall Read Free Page B

Backman a little too quickly, a little too hopefully.
    Backman asked, “What if there is no deal? What if we’re merely awaiting the papers to deport you? Ten-twenty-three was British. You realize that, don’t you?”
    The roar of a jet taking off made it feel hotter. Daggett loosened his tie further.
    â€œYou want that again?” Backman asked with an authority he had previously lacked. Daggett sensed the man’s rebound. Backman, it suddenly seemed, was not weak but merely soft. Out of practice. He seized the moment effectively by asking the Smoker for a cigarette, as if he had all the time in the world. He didn’t smoke, but Bernard didn’t know this.
    Bernard repeated, “There is or is not an offer?”
    A sharp knock on the door shattered the resulting silence. The Smoker rose and opened it, spoke to an unseen person in a hushed voice, and then pulled the man’s briefcase through. He closed the door. Daggett came off the table as the Smoker placed the briefcase at Bernard’s feet. Backman said, “Your briefcase. Shall we have a look-see?”
    They knew what was inside: deutsche marks. But to what purpose? A payoff? Financing? This briefcase had been a vital part of their investigation. What was Backman doing?
    â€œYou are not going to open that,” Daggett stated. “Are you forgetting this man’s occupation?”
    â€œIt was X-rayed,” the Smoker said. “Twice. No sign of any wiring. No explosives. It’s been cleared: we have nothing to worry about.”
    â€œHas it been sniffed? Has it been checked with ultrasound? That bag should be handled by the bomb squad. That bag has been on the move since—” He caught himself before making the same mistakes Backman had made. He dried his palms on his pants legs. He was terrified. His eyes jumped between that bag and Bernard.
    â€œPut yourself in his position,” Daggett said, stepping close to Backman. “What if the suitcase is rigged? Unless he cuts himself one hell of a deal, he faces life imprisonment, at best. But what if he could take out the chief of C-three and the investigator responsible for ten twenty-three all in one move? What kind of a hero would that make him?”
    â€œA dead hero,” Backman said, unimpressed. “No one kills himself over principles anymore, Daggett. Use your head.” He bent down toward the bag and released one of its two latches.
    Daggett jumped forward and pushed him away from the bag. Backman slipped, reached for purchase, but fell to the dirty floor. His weight gave him trouble getting back to his feet. It was a pitiful attempt. Daggett offered his hand, but Backman refused any help. It took him several, embarrassingly long, seconds to return to his feet. “Get out of here, both of you,” Daggett shouted at the two others.
    When the Smoker didn’t move, Daggett added, “Now!” his focus still on the briefcase. Hairless pushed his friend quickly out the door.
    Backman mopped his face with his handkerchief. “That was a stupid thing to do, Michigan. Really fucking stupid. That’s going to cost you, big time.”
    Bernard said nothing. His attention remained fixed on the briefcase with its one open latch.
    â€œYou can order me to leave this room with you. Right? You can report me. Christ, you can probably get me fired.”
    â€œDamn right I can.”
    â€œSo do it! Come on, let’s go. Your only witnesses are getting away.”
    Backman pouted his lips and nodded. “Okay, I guess you’re right.” He took a step toward the door. Then, abandoning his ruse, he threw his weight into Daggett and knocked him off his feet.
    Daggett hit the floor hard, slid, and careened into the door.
    Backman lumbered back to the briefcase and struggled with the other latch.
    Bernard glanced up hotly and looked at Daggett with dark, wet eyes.
    Daggett knew. “No!” he shouted as he reached for the