Read Online 24 Hours by Greg Iles - Free Book Online
Authors: Greg Iles
Tags: Fiction, LEGAL, Suspense, Psychological fiction, Thrillers, Suspense fiction, Large Type Books, Psychopaths, Physicians, Kidnapping, Jackson (Miss.)
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to get the ransom money?”
“Your husband is going to call his financial advisor here—Gray Davidson—and tell him a great little story. He’s just discovered the missing centerpiece of Walter Anderson’s largest sculpture. It’s a male figure with antlers called ‘Father Mississippi.’ Only one photograph of it exists, and many people believe it was stolen from Anderson’s house. The value is—”
“Higher than any painting he ever did,” Karen finished. “Because he didn’t do much sculpture.”
Hickey grinned. “Pretty good, huh? I do my home-work. These goddamn doctors, I tell you. Every one of ’em collects something. Cars, boats, books, whatever. Look at this kitchen. Every gadget known to man. I bet you got eighty pairs of shoes upstairs, like that Filipino hog, Imelda Marcos. You can’t believe the money these guys piss away. I mean, how many freakin’ gallbladders can you take out in a month?”
“Will’s not like that.”
“Oh, no, he doesn’t spend more money on paintings every year than he pays all his employees put together. These guys . . . a slip of the knife, somebody dies, and it’s ‘Gee, sorry, couldn’t be helped. Wish I could stick around, but I’ve got a two o’clock tee time.’”
Karen started to argue, but she sensed that it wouldn’t help her situation. Hickey knew a lot about their lives, yet there were huge gaps. Abby’s diabetes. Will’s work. Will didn’t even use a scalpel. He was an anesthesiologist. He used gases and needles. She watched Hickey closely, trying to get a handle on the man beneath the bluster. One thing she knew already: he carried a chip on his shoulder the size of the Rock of Gibraltar.
“Anyway,” Hickey said, “tomorrow morning, Will’s gonna call Davidson and tell him he needs two hundred grand wired to him in Biloxi. He’s got a one-time opportunity to buy this statue, and the owner wants cash. And just in case Mr. Tight-Ass Gray Davidson is suspicious, Will’s lovely wife, Karen, is coming down to the office to authorize the wire. It isn’t strictly required, but it’s a nice touch. Then you and I are going to drive down to Davidson’s office. I’ll wait outside while you go in and bitch a little. ‘That Will, he goes absolutely off his head when he makes a discovery, but what can you do? Boys will be boys.’ Then you sign off on the money, and the two hundred grand is off to Biloxi at the speed of light. My partner drives Will to the bank in Biloxi, Will goes in, comes out with the cash, and hands it to my partner. And that’s all she wrote.”
“You’re doing all this for two hundred thousand dollars?”
Hickey laughed and shook his head. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. To you, two hundred grand is nothing. A down payment on a house. You won’t even feel two hundred. And that’s the point. The money’s liquid. You can get it easy, and you don’t feel any pain when it’s gone. You’re happy, I’m happy, and your kid’s back safe at home. What more could you ask for?”
“Abby here now! Why can’t she stay with us? Or us with her? That won’t hurt your plan a bit.”
Hickey’s smile vanished. “This whole little machine runs on fear, Karen. Your fear for Abby. Will’s fear for you, and for Abby. Fear is the only thing keeping you from pulling that trigger right now. Right?”
She didn’t answer.
“Most kidnappers are brain-dead,” he said. “They get busted the minute they go for the ransom. Or right after. They try all kinds of complicated shit, but the truth is, no ransom pickup method is safe from the FBI. Not even wiring the money to Brazil. The technology’s just too good now. You should see the statistics. Damn near zero kidnappings-for-ransom succeed in this country. Why? The drop. Picking up the ransom. But I’m not picking up any ransom. Your husband’s doing it for me. You’re sending it, he’s picking it up. I’m not even involved. Is that beautiful or what?”
Karen
“Your husband is going to call his financial advisor here—Gray Davidson—and tell him a great little story. He’s just discovered the missing centerpiece of Walter Anderson’s largest sculpture. It’s a male figure with antlers called ‘Father Mississippi.’ Only one photograph of it exists, and many people believe it was stolen from Anderson’s house. The value is—”
“Higher than any painting he ever did,” Karen finished. “Because he didn’t do much sculpture.”
Hickey grinned. “Pretty good, huh? I do my home-work. These goddamn doctors, I tell you. Every one of ’em collects something. Cars, boats, books, whatever. Look at this kitchen. Every gadget known to man. I bet you got eighty pairs of shoes upstairs, like that Filipino hog, Imelda Marcos. You can’t believe the money these guys piss away. I mean, how many freakin’ gallbladders can you take out in a month?”
“Will’s not like that.”
“Oh, no, he doesn’t spend more money on paintings every year than he pays all his employees put together. These guys . . . a slip of the knife, somebody dies, and it’s ‘Gee, sorry, couldn’t be helped. Wish I could stick around, but I’ve got a two o’clock tee time.’”
Karen started to argue, but she sensed that it wouldn’t help her situation. Hickey knew a lot about their lives, yet there were huge gaps. Abby’s diabetes. Will’s work. Will didn’t even use a scalpel. He was an anesthesiologist. He used gases and needles. She watched Hickey closely, trying to get a handle on the man beneath the bluster. One thing she knew already: he carried a chip on his shoulder the size of the Rock of Gibraltar.
“Anyway,” Hickey said, “tomorrow morning, Will’s gonna call Davidson and tell him he needs two hundred grand wired to him in Biloxi. He’s got a one-time opportunity to buy this statue, and the owner wants cash. And just in case Mr. Tight-Ass Gray Davidson is suspicious, Will’s lovely wife, Karen, is coming down to the office to authorize the wire. It isn’t strictly required, but it’s a nice touch. Then you and I are going to drive down to Davidson’s office. I’ll wait outside while you go in and bitch a little. ‘That Will, he goes absolutely off his head when he makes a discovery, but what can you do? Boys will be boys.’ Then you sign off on the money, and the two hundred grand is off to Biloxi at the speed of light. My partner drives Will to the bank in Biloxi, Will goes in, comes out with the cash, and hands it to my partner. And that’s all she wrote.”
“You’re doing all this for two hundred thousand dollars?”
Hickey laughed and shook his head. “See? That’s what I’m talking about. To you, two hundred grand is nothing. A down payment on a house. You won’t even feel two hundred. And that’s the point. The money’s liquid. You can get it easy, and you don’t feel any pain when it’s gone. You’re happy, I’m happy, and your kid’s back safe at home. What more could you ask for?”
“Abby here now! Why can’t she stay with us? Or us with her? That won’t hurt your plan a bit.”
Hickey’s smile vanished. “This whole little machine runs on fear, Karen. Your fear for Abby. Will’s fear for you, and for Abby. Fear is the only thing keeping you from pulling that trigger right now. Right?”
She didn’t answer.
“Most kidnappers are brain-dead,” he said. “They get busted the minute they go for the ransom. Or right after. They try all kinds of complicated shit, but the truth is, no ransom pickup method is safe from the FBI. Not even wiring the money to Brazil. The technology’s just too good now. You should see the statistics. Damn near zero kidnappings-for-ransom succeed in this country. Why? The drop. Picking up the ransom. But I’m not picking up any ransom. Your husband’s doing it for me. You’re sending it, he’s picking it up. I’m not even involved. Is that beautiful or what?”
Karen
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