Abel Baker Charley Read Online Free PDF Page A

boulder. He lifted Sumo's wrist, feeling for a pulse as he worked loose a heavy chronograph. This pulse was weaker than the other. Biaggi studied the watch curiously, ig noring Sumo, who slid like a flow of mud from the rock and settled to the grass. Funny, he thought, for junkies to own watches. The big one's clothing, both their clothing, were good quality and they fit. They must have bought them new. Dressed like this, he wondered, and they're working the park?
    He bent over and felt for Sumo's wallet. His hand brushed over something wet and hard. Biaggi drew a pen- light from his pocket and cupped his hand over the beam as he sought what he already knew was there. Again he turned his head away. A befouled and dripping bit of chrome gleamed obscenely in the light. The knife was rammed a full ten inches into Sumo's colon.
    “Jesus,” he whispered.
    He fell backward into a sitting position and stared after Baker through the darkness. What the hell was going on here? He shuddered again at what he'd seen, and at the thought that had he not seen it, he might have tried to take Baker himself. Who wouldn't have? The guy was nothing. A commuter. Or he used to be. Just one more grunt who took the train to work and played golf on Saturdays and jogged with his dog on Sundays until it was time to light the char coal. Sonnenberg could take a lump like that and make this out of it? What for? Who the fuck would want him? But you want him, don't you, Mr. Peck? You say, do you have doubts, Michael? Are you up to this task, Michael? We can't let him fall into the wrong hands, Michael. Not Domenic Tortora's hands, not Connor Harrigan's hands, not a couple of punks working Central Park . . . Wait a minute.
    Biaggi patted his raincoat pocket and located the wallet that belonged to Jace. He drew out the soft leather billfold. It was expensive, he realized, even before he snapped on his penlight. Dunhill, maybe. The light made a circle the size of a half-dollar, and it quickly found the likeness on a driver's license of the one who seemed to know Baker. The name printed there seized Biaggi by the throat.
    He was Baker again.
    He had started south, then doubled back when he was be yond the hearing of the man who'd stayed hidden. His arms had begun to burn under the woman's weight, and the mus cles of his back were tightening. Perhaps he'd sent Abel back too soon. No, she was beginning to stir. Abel might have ... He wasn't sure anymore what Abel might have done.
    Beyond the zoo, he found a bench that was deep in shadow and sat the rousing woman there, wondering if it might be best to leave her. The one in the gray raincoat might help her. The one who followed and watched. But he was far behind. He had a gun, Baker realized. Why did he have a gun in his hand this time? No matter. He was getting farther away. If she were left here now, someone else might find her. Maybe someone like the two he'd crippled. Or she'd wake up screaming before he was safely gone. Be sides, he had to know first.. . “Charley?”
    “yes?”
    “This is Tanner Burke. Did you know that?”
    “you did so i did.”
    “How can it be that she's here? Does she know me?”
    “doesn y t know jared baker.”
    “Why was she in the park, Charley? And how did Abel find her?”
    ”i don't knowwww.” Charley lapsed into an irritating singsong that he used when he chose to be vague. The voice in Baker's head was softer than the other and higher pitched. Childlike. Baker despised this one sometimes.
    “You do know, Charley. And the other one back there, the one called Jace. He knew me. He said my name. Who was he, Charley?”
    “ask abel”
    “I’ m asking you, Charley. What has Abel done?”
    “abel says go now. go to the hotel.”
    “Answer me, Charley. I'll bring you out if you don't an swer me.”
    “you can't, she'll see.”
    The woman coughed and one eyelid fluttered. It opened slightly and then closed again, but her breath was coming deeper and faster. Baker waited