People Die by Kevin Wignall

Author:Kevin Wignall [Wignall, Kevin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780743212670
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2001-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

11

The Fallen Pine Inn was actually a roadside motel, low-rise, sprawling, like it wanted to be something else, a holiday village or something like that. As an opening gambit he called from the pay phone out front and was surprised when they happily answered his request for the Russian gentleman’s room number, describing even where it was in the motel.

He went back and sat in the car for a while, with dusk beginning to dull the edges on everything, and he thought through the possible ways of dealing with the Russian. He had to kill him, that was certain, it was just a question of how and where.

The motel room itself was the easiest but didn’t seem like a good idea. A Russian murdered in some city was one thing but JJ was in no doubt it would make big local news in Vermont, cause a lot of speculation. And though it was probably overcautious he couldn’t help but think that kind of speculation would gravitate toward him, not least in the mind of Susan Bostridge.

So he’d get the Russian out of there, play on what he knew already to get the guy somewhere out of sight. He spent another ten minutes working it through in his mind, checking his map, then loosened the buckle on his small rucksack and strolled over to the far wing of the building, counting along the doors till he got to the right one.

He knocked and as he waited he savored the smell of the woods that surrounded the motel and the faint encroaching sounds as day shifted toward night. It was beautiful, even there. Then he heard the door opening, the security chain bracing itself across the narrow gap. The Russian’s face was peering through; he had cropped fair hair, a military look like his partner.

JJ didn’t smile but said matter-of-factly, “I’m Hooper. Berg sent me.” The guy looked at him suspiciously, not like he didn’t understand but like it still didn’t explain JJ’s presence. “We know where Holden is.”

“Why are you here?” he asked, softly spoken, one of those Russian accents that was pitched halfway between mournful and musical.

“To show you where Holden is, and to help. He has two bodyguards.” The guy still looked unconvinced but then JJ added like he was breaking bad news, “The CIA killed Korzhakov.”

“When?” The Russian’s eyes began to dance around a little.

“I don’t know. Sometime today.”

“I make a phone call,” he said and JJ responded, blasé, “Okay, I’ll wait.” The guy left the chain on but didn’t close the door, so JJ could see him as he walked across the room and was ready to make a move if he had to.

But the Russian checked his watch and didn’t bother with the phone, obviously realizing that any place he wanted to phone was already in the middle of the night. Instead he put on a shoulder holster, put the gun he was carrying in it, disappeared from view, and appeared again at the door a minute later, wearing a suit jacket now and carrying a briefcase.

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