IMPACT (Supreme Court Thriller) by Paul Levine

Author:Paul Levine
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Herald Square Publishing
Published: 2014-02-17T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

One Man’s Poison

THE MAN CALLING THE CHAMBERS OF Supreme Court Justice Samuel Truitt asked for Ms. Lisa Fremont. “Who’s calling?” Elly inquired.

“Scott Berenger.”

When she came on the line, Lisa was annoyed. “Who is this?”

“Granny said you were looking for me.”

“Greg! That was very macabre.”

“You know the name?”

“Scott Berenger was sitting in seat fourteen-C of Flight 640.”

“So you’re as obsessed with the crash as I am.”

“We’re on the same side. Greg, I want to help. We can do this together.”

The only sound was the buzz of the long-distance line.

He doesn’t know if he can trust me.

“Greg, someday I’ll explain everything to you. I’ve known Max Wanaker since I was seventeen. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for him.”

“But you’ll work against him?” he asked

“Yes. You’ve got to believe me.”

Another pause, and then he said, “I do. If you tell me we’re working for the same goal, I believe you.”

Thank God.

“Now what?” she asked. “How can I help?”

“I have a terrific plan,” Greg said.

***

Shank didn’t want to be here, but he had no choice. When Katsushika Koshiro summoned, you damn well appeared. It didn’t matter if he was in Osaka, London, or here, on the Hawaiian island of Molokai.

He was called “The Kat”—though Shank would never have attempted such familiarity—both because of his name and because of his ability to tread safely through a minefield of illegal activities that would have seen a lesser man imprisoned or killed. With his hazel eyes and a nose that occasionally twitched, The Kat also reminded Shank of an overfed feline in a Savile Row suit.

Now, riding in the Humvee with the tinted windows over a gravel road that ran parallel to the sea cliffs, two silent thugs in the front, a third sitting next to him in back, Shank chain-smoked and tried not to show his concern. Why had he been summoned? What had he done wrong?

The road ended at a pile of volcanic boulders, and when the Humvee pulled to a stop, the driver motioned Shank toward the cliff where Koshiro and another man stood. They all got out and Shank walked toward the precipice while his three escorts waited, leaning against the Humvee. The sun had long since set in the Kaiwi Channel to the west, and the only illumination came from a three-quarter moon. A light breeze blew from the sea, and the air was sweet with jasmine and white ginger. Walking along the highest sea cliff in the world, his mind raced.

It can’t happen to me.

For a man as fearless as Shank, an unsettling feeling crept over him. Just the sight of the placid little man silhouetted against the night sky by the moonlight filled Shank with dread. He pictured himself floating face down in the angry ocean just like Joe Drayton.

What the hell does The Kat want?

Katsushika Koshiro stood at the edge of the cliff looking out over the peninsula and the Pacific Ocean. He was a short, plump man in his sixties whose expensive tailoring hid his paunch and disguised his rounded shoulders.

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