Sleight of Hand - By Phillip Margolin Page 0,89

his health, and he did not want to go there unless all else failed.

At the hospital, Santoro cuffed Benedict’s good hand to the bed and the detectives watched him closely. As soon as he had doctors and nurses for witnesses, Benedict demanded that he be allowed to phone an attorney, leaving the detectives no alternative but to honor the request. Benedict called Marcus Foster and told him to meet him at the jail. He also whispered the number of his secretary, who could let Foster into Benedict’s office so that Foster could get several checks from the register in Benedict’s desk.

Foster was waiting at police headquarters and asked to confer with Benedict as soon as the prisoner was booked in. The first thing Benedict did when the door to the interview room closed was sign one check for Foster’s retainer and a blank check to cover his bail.

Benedict was asleep in his cell when the noise of the bars opening awakened him at 3:30 a.m. Benedict blinked at the guard.

“You’ve been bailed out,” he said.

Benedict’s spirits soared. In minutes, he would be out the door and into the night. Before dawn, he would be gone.

Marcus Foster was waiting in reception. Benedict thanked him for acting so quickly. The two attorneys walked out of the jail into the crisp night air and Benedict looked up at the stars. He smiled and took a deep breath. Freedom was great!

“Can you give me a lift?” Benedict asked his lawyer. “They took my car.”

“Sure. I parked down the street.”

Benedict followed Foster. Before they reached his car, a black SUV with tinted windows pulled to the curb. A very large man got out. Charlie recognized him as someone who frequented The Scene.

“Glad to see you’re out, Charlie,” the man said as he flashed a wide smile.

“It looks like you’ve got a ride,” Foster said. “Let’s meet at my office at noon. That will give you time to get some sleep.”

Warning lights were flashing.

Charlie was about to ask Foster to wait when Peter Perkovic got out of the car and pulled his jacket aside so Charlie could see his gun. When Benedict turned toward Peter, the first man slipped a needle into his neck.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

“Benedict is free on bail!” Christopher Rauh screamed.

“I have people out looking for him,” Stephanie Robb said.

“How did he make bail so fast?” Rauh asked.

“We took him to the hospital because his wrist and arm were broken,” Frank Santoro said. “He lawyered up while he was there. We couldn’t listen to the conversation because of the attorney-client privilege. I’m guessing he told Marcus Foster to spring him right away. Foster was at the jail in record time.”

Rauh swore again.

“Calm down, Chris,” Hamada said. “We’ll find him. Santoro, Robb, and I are working on the presentation to the grand jury. I’ll get a murder indictment so we can hold him without bail.”

“Has Benedict shown up at his condo?” Rauh asked.

“Not so far.”

“So where is he?”

Nikolai Orlansky knew that part of Charles Benedict’s training as a magician involved escape from restraints, so Orlansky made sure that the lawyer was gagged and confined in a straitjacket, with his ankles securely manacled to a ring embedded in the cement floor of the warehouse to which Peter Perkovic had transported him.

Shortly after Benedict regained consciousness he realized that he had little chance of escaping. Even if he could get out of the straitjacket and the manacles, two of Nikolai’s goons were watching him.

Benedict had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, so he had no idea how long he’d been a prisoner. He was starving, so it could have been days. He was still disoriented from the drugs that had been injected into him, so maybe that meant he’d only been out a short time, unless they’d given him more drugs. The lawyer tried calling to the men, but they ignored his muffled cries. He tried to remain calm and think of ways to escape, but nothing came to mind.

After what seemed like hours, a door opened. The guards looked behind Benedict, who could not turn his head far enough to see what was happening. Footsteps echoing off the concrete told him that someone was drawing near. Then Nikolai was standing in front of him, with Peter Perkovic at his side.

“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie,” Nikolai said with a sad shake of his head. “What a mess you are in.”

Benedict tried to speak. Nikolai nodded to Perkovic, and Peter removed his gag.

“What the fuck, Nikolai?” Benedict said as soon