take with them. They would all leave the city as millionaires tonight, each with enough money to buy whatever they wanted. The shotgun in his hands, aimed at where the door would open, Regan smiled. His bags were all packed. His apartment was ready. He was good to go, to leave this dump and never return.
But all he wanted was the English asshole before he left.
He’d thought about what he would do if the guy showed up or if Carmen found him down on the street on Steinway. He wouldn’t fire straight away. That would alert the neighbours and people on the street. He’d put the gun on him and make him wait. Then he’d pull his phone and call Farrell. After he arrived, they’d tie up and gag the pretty-boy then take him somewhere isolated, somewhere with soundproof walls. Probably the lower, thick brick rooms at the back of the gym, behind the steel door. Then they would go to work on him. Leave a nice, nightmare-inducing crime scene for the FBI and NYPD.
He smiled and leaned back in his chair, the barrel of the shotgun aimed flush at the door. He checked the time.
10:31 am.
He was going to come back here one last time.
Regan could sense it.
NINETEEN
Back across the city inside the Marriott Marquis Hotel, Archer stepped off the elevator for the 21 floor and stood still for a moment, letting the doors close behind him. Once he’d explained where the memory card was, he and Sanderson had discussed what to do next. Sanderson said he was going to head to Federal Plaza immediately and get back-up, both to find Siletti and O’Hara and to set up an ambush for the Flushing truck heist Farrell and his team were planning for tonight. Archer said he’d handle getting the memory card from the camera. They had risen, shaking hands and parting ways, Sanderson headed downstairs to the taxi rank, Archer back to the hotel room.
Walking down the corridor to the room, he slid the key-card into the slot and pushing down the handle, walked into the room. Shutting the door behind him, he saw that Katic and the girl were awake, both enjoying a room-service breakfast. They were perched side by side on the edge of the bed, a table pulled up in front of them with some toast, spreads and cereals on the counter. They looked up and smiled as he entered, closing the door behind him. He also saw Katic withdraw her left hand from her handbag sitting beside her on the bed, no doubt her 9mm Sig inside, on her guard. He smiled.
‘Morning, ladies,’ he said.
‘Morning,’ Jessie said, through a mouthful of toast.
Archer looked at Katic, who got the message that he wanted to talk. She rose and moved outside past the screen door to the balcony, Archer joining her and pulling it shut. The sun was shining across the city and there was the usual chorus of car horns and shouts from the streets twenty one floors below.
‘What did he say?’ Katic asked, biting off a chunk of toast.
‘He’s gone to call for back up. An entire Division from D.C will be here before sundown.’
‘That’s perfect.’
‘Also, the proof my father said he had. Apparently it’s photographic.’
‘Really? That’s great. Who were the shots of?’
‘He didn’t want to reveal any names over the phone. He was getting ready to drive down straight away and deliver it all himself. Then he got killed.’
‘Siletti and O’Hara.’
Archer nodded and pictured the pair. Siletti, lanky, that pencil-thin moustache, his slicked back hair. His narrow face, Gerrard’s stolen suit too big for him. His broken nose. O’Hara, all red hair and Irish fury, standing on Katic’s fire escape, shotgun in hand.
‘Sanderson said my father was using a digital camera, not the traditional ones, according to the details of his assignment on the report,’ he said. ‘The team investigating his death haven’t been able to recover it.’
‘So we need to find the camera. Or just the memory card.’
‘I know where it is.’
Her eyes widened. ‘What? Where?’
‘Inside the drawer of the nightstand at his apartment. I saw it in there the day I arrived.’
She cursed.
‘Shit. You can’t just walk over there and knock on the front door, Archer. Farrell and Siletti will both have that place staked out, guaranteed. The NYPD will probably be around too. You won’t get within thirty yards of the place.’
‘I know. But I need that card. We get that, we have actual physical proof. They won’t be able to