The Millionaires by Brad Meltzer

Author:Brad Meltzer
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Bank robberies, Fiction, Embezzlement, FIC030000, Suspense, Thrillers, Suspense fiction, Banks & Banking, Business & Economics, Brothers
ISBN: 9780446527293
Publisher: Warner Books
Published: 2002-01-08T19:57:15.863161+00:00

38

She knows,” Gallo said.

“How could she possibly know?” DeSanctis asked.

“Just look at her,” he said, jabbing a fat finger at the computer that rested on the seat between them. “Her sons are missing… it’s another night alone… but does she report it? Does she cry on the phone, sobbing to a friend? No—she just sits there, sewing away and watching the Food Channel.”

“It’s better than watching soaps,” DeSanctis said, pointing the thermal imager up the dark block.

“That’s not the point, ass-face. If she knows we’re watching, she’s less likely to—”

The chime of a doorbell blared through the laptop’s speakers. Gallo and DeSanctis shot up in their seats.

“She’s got a visitor,” DeSanctis said.

“Was that from downstairs?”

DeSanctis aimed the imager at the glass windows of the lobby. In the camera, a muddy dark green image of the lobby came into focus. Green was cold; white was hot. But as he scanned between the buzzer area and the lobby, the only thing he saw were two white rectangular starbursts along the ceiling. No people—just fluorescent lights. “No one’s down there.”

“Coming…!” Maggie shouted toward her door.

“How’d they get past us? Is there a back door?” Gallo shouted.

“Could be a neighbor,” DeSanctis pointed out.

“Who is it?” Maggie asked.

The answer was a mumble. Microphones didn’t work through doors.

“Just a minute…” Maggie said as she shut off the TV. Undoing the locks with one hand, she straightened her hair and her shirt with the other.

“She’s making an impression,” DeSanctis whispered. “I’m betting a client.”

“At this time of ni—?”

“Sophie! So nice to see you,” Maggie sang as she opened the door. Over Maggie’s shoulder they saw a gray-haired woman wearing a cable-knit brown cardigan, but no coat.

“Neighbor,” DeSanctis said.

“Sophie…” Gallo repeated. “She said Sophie.”

DeSanctis tore open the glove compartment and yanked out a stack of paper. 4190 Bedford Avenue—Residents—Real Property.

“Sophie… Sofia… Sonja…” Gallo suggested as DeSanctis frantically ran his finger down the printed list.

“I got a Sonia Coady in 3A and a Sofia Rostonov in 2F,” DeSanctis said.

“How have you been?” Sophie asked in a thick Russian accent.

“Rostonov it is.”

“Fine… just fine,” Maggie replied, inviting her inside.

“Watch her hands!” Gallo barked as Maggie reached out and touched Sophie’s shoulder.

“You think she’s passing something?” DeSanctis asked.

“She doesn’t have a choice. No fax, no e-mail, no cell phone—not even an electronic organizer—her only hope is getting something from outside. I’m guessing a pager or something small that can do text-messaging.”

DeSanctis nodded. “You take mom; I got Sofia.” Crouching down toward the laptop, the two agents were silent. In the darkness, their faces glowed with the pale light from the screen.

“I took almost an inch off all the sleeves—let me get them off the line…” Maggie said as she walked toward the kitchen window. From his bird’s-eye view in the smoke detector, Gallo only saw her back, but he studied everything she touched. Hands at her side. Opening the kitchen window. Pulling in the clothesline. Unhooking two women’s blouses and angling each onto a hanger.

“You put them out in this weather?” Sophie asked.

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