Free Long After Midnight by Iris Johansen Page A

outside the house. Safe. A young officer got out of the car and waved at her. She waved back and turned away from the window. Everything was all right now. She could go to bed. . . .
    The hell she could. She wasn’t going to be fooled again. She took down the license number of the black-and-white and called the station to verify it.
    It checked out.
    She still didn’t go to bed. She went to Joshua’s room.
    She checked the locks on the window and then stood looking down at him. He was sleeping deeply, thank God. She could feel tears sting her eyes. She had almost lost him. If he’d obeyed her urging to go with Michael and Benny, he’d be dead too.
    To save your life. And maybe your son’s life too.
    She wouldn’t think about Noah Smith’s words. No one had a reason to kill her.
    The timer that set off the bombs at my plant was Czechoslovakian built.
    For all she knew, that could be coincidence.
    And the thief with amazingly authentic credentials who had staked out her house?
    All the more reason for her to stay here safe and sound and not tear across town on a wild-goose chase.
    Joshua stirred and turned on his side.
    Oh God, she had almost lost him.
             
    Jonathan Ishmaru punched in Ogden’s number on the Ford’s car phone.
    “Ishmaru,” he said when Ogden picked up the phone. “It can’t happen tonight.”
    “Why not?”
    “I had to leave the neighborhood. She came out and questioned me.” He stared ahead at the lights streaming down the highway, remembering Kate Denby standing only inches from him. He had been tempted to get out of the car and finish her, but that would have meant getting only one of his targets. “And then she said she was going to call Eblund.”
    “Where are you?”
    “About twenty miles from the house. I’ll go back tomorrow night.”
    “And get your ass thrown in jail?”
    “I’ll be prepared.”
    “So will she. The place will probably be crawling with cops.” Ogden paused. “A bomb worked before. We’ll find a way of making it look like some kind of mob hit. It’s not unusual for them to make an example of the whole family. It will be safer than trying to go inside and kill them. That’s what you’re to do.”
    He had expected this from Ogden, Ishmaru thought contemptuously. He always chose the coward’s way to vanquish enemies. “I gave you your bombs in Seattle. I even planted one here. You promised me the next one I could do my way.”
    “You bungled it. I want you to change cars and go back tomorrow and plant a device. But don’t let her see you, for God’s sake.”
    “My way. I’ll go in and kill the grandmother and the child and then make Kate Denby’s kill look like a suicide because she murdered the others.” He added regretfully, “But it would have been more effective tonight after the funeral.”
    “You stupid Indian, who do you think is paying you?” Ogden hissed. “You’ll do what I tell you.”
    Ishmaru smiled. It was Ogden who was stupid for thinking that he did this for the money. Ogden didn’t understand the glory. He didn’t understand the triumph.
    He didn’t understand coup.
    “I’ll call you tomorrow night,” Ishmaru said. He hung up the phone, reached into the glove compartment, and drew out the Polaroid he’d taken of Kate, Joshua, and Phyliss Denby at Michael Denby’s funeral. He propped it on the dashboard where he could occasionally catch glimpses of the three as he drove. It always gave him pleasure to anticipate the coming triumph.
    That Kate Denby had not been in the car he’d rigged with the bomb was actually a good thing. On no account would he use a bomb again. It was too frustrating. All those lives gone and not one coup.
    But he would have three tomorrow night. A knife for the child and the grandmother and a bullet for Kate Denby. Pity. He regarded using his hands as the ultimate coup, but he had to give Ogden something. Ogden wanted no questions asked, and Ishmaru tried to comply as long as he was