“He’s late,” Jules said after a few minutes.
“No. He’s here,” March said. “He’s just checking the area. Like we did.”
In another two minutes Dukey ambled into view, wearing khaki pants and a polo shirt under a brown jacket. He carried a takeout cup of coffee. The guy really had to learn how to not telegraph the fact that he was a cop. A skinny guy on the edge of a bench caught sight of Dukey and silently, casually moved off.
Dukey sat down next to Jules. “So. I’m here. I said I was out of favors.”
“Yeah, I know,” March said. “But I figured you’d make an exception for the chance to bust the Top Cats wide open.”
“And how would I do that?” Dukey sipped his coffee, his eyes on the tourists.
“You’d have in custody their top operative in the United States, and I think this person would drop a dime on all of them.”
“Who?” Dukey took another sip. “And how?”
“Not so fast,” March said. “I have some conditions.”
“I don’t do conditions. Especially with kids I’m about to bust into juvie.”
“Even kids who know which agent of yours is on the take with the Top Cats?”
Only the split second of hesitation told March that Dukey was hooked. “Why should I believe you?”
March said nothing. If you’ve baited the hook well enough, there’s no need to yank it.
“Give me a name or there’s no deal.”
“Chernoff.”
Dukey looked at him. He couldn’t quite hide his shock. “She’s my best agent.”
March shrugged. “Go ahead and trust her, then.”
“Give me time to check it out.”
“We don’t have time. It’s today or nothing.”
“Then nothing.”
“Fine.” March got up and walked off.
He followed the path a little way and turned back. He could see that Dukey was nettled, and Jules leaned in, talking to him. She was telling him that the American contact was Blue. She spoke, leaning in, then eased back and listened, nodding intently. Finally she smoothed her left eyebrow.
March walked back.
“Let me hear the conditions,” Dukey said.
* * *
Prospect Park
3 p.m. today
Zef will be in front seat, say I’m in the trunk
I’ll be in the car a block ahead w Dmitri & guards
Blue in Mini nearby waiting for stone
Blue meeting Ransome alone Rev War monument, guess you fixed that
Izzy looked up, smiling. “Darius is crushing it.”
March nodded. “He always does.”
* * *
That afternoon they stood in a tight circle, shoulders touching.
“If anything goes wrong —” March started.
“You can’t start a pep talk with ‘if anything goes wrong,’ ” Jules interrupted. “You’re casting doubt on the whole thing. Making us nervous.”
“I’m not casting doubt. I’m just saying, get away if you can,” March said. “There’s no reason for all of us to get caught.”
“Yes, there is,” Izzy said. “We’re in this together. All the way.”
Jules nodded. “Now that’s a pep talk.”
“I just want to point out,” March said, “that I’m supposed to give the pep talk. That’s how we roll.”
“Give it up,” Jules said. “Izzy’s the one who keeps the faith.”
“I’ll go with that,” March said. “Let’s go get our life back. Potato chips and ketchup.”
“Big Stupid Hollywood Movie Night,” Izzy said.
“Meatless Mondays,” Jules said. “With pepperoni for Darius.”
They all smiled.
“Let’s go get our family back,” March said.
It was a beautiful September Sunday, and Prospect Park was crowded with lively energy. Kids, dogs, couples, moms, dads, skateboards, bicycles, soccer balls, and roller skates. A mom and dad swung their toddler between them. A couple shared a frozen lemonade while a wedding party made their way up to the Picnic House, a mariachi band trailing behind. The bright music rose and tangled in the leaves.
It was a perfect day for a double cross.
The players were in place. It was too conspicuous to use earpieces this time, so March had to rely on everyone’s split-second timing. He glanced at his new burner phone as they each checked in. Hamish. Mikki. Joey.
March, Jules, and Izzy walked along the curving drive that led along the lake. It was just as the text from Dmitri had said they’d see: a black SUV sat idling a couple of hundred yards away. They were supposed to walk up to it to make the deal with Zef.
They ignored it and turned left. Down the road another SUV was parked, half-hidden under some trees. Just where Darius said it would be. Beside it was a yellow Mini. They walked up and stood outside the passenger window of the SUV.
A smoked-glass window slid down. The burly driver stared straight ahead. In the passenger seat a familiar-looking man smiled at March.
“You still like breaking rules,” Dimmy said.
No, Dmitri. The puppy-dog look was gone, the vague happy smile. It was replaced by sharp intelligence and the mild amusement of a man who could flip in one second to titanic rage. The baggy T-shirt and shorts had been replaced by a sharp gray suit and dark tie.
“Hey, Dimmy,” March said softly. Pressure was in his head, hot anger racing through his veins, but he had to stay as cool as a floating iceberg. “Thought you loved Florida, like pretty girl’s braid, hanging down from A-mer-i-ca.”
“Still a funny boy. I prefer Dmitri.”
“So, Dimmy, why would I go to the other car, when Darius is in this one?”
The door to the Mini opened. Blue stalked over. “I don’t have time for games. You’ve been in my way one too many times. Give me the sapphire.”
In the side mirror, March saw the other SUV approaching from behind. Zef must have seen them. Good. He’d expected him to.
“You know there’s no cars allowed on this road, right?” March asked.
“Rules are not for me,” Dmitri said with a shrug.
“So let’s make the deal. First, let me see Darius.”
“He’s in the trunk. Let me see the stone.”
March reached into his pocket. His fist closed around the stone. He withdrew his hand slowly. The black SUV had slid forward and was now pulled up behind Dmitri’s car. He could see Zef in the driver’s seat.
He opened his palm and held up the stone against the sky, blue against blue.
He snapped his fist closed again.
“I need to examine it,” Dmitri said. “Who do you think you’re dealing with?”
“Let me see him or no deal,” March said.
“You are a very foolish boy,” Dmitri said. His gaze was flat. “You want your friend to end up in that lake? You, too, with your pretty girls? Very easy to do.”
March swallowed against the dead menace in Dmitri’s tone. “Lots of people around.”
“You think that matters? My boys are quick.”
He put his hand in his pocket. “Darius or no deal.”
The rear window slid halfway down. Now March could see Darius in the backseat between two very large men.
“Don’t worry, I can take them,” Darius said before the window slid up again.
Dmitri tapped his fingers on the car door. “I am surrounded by comedians.”
Izzy took a step toward the car. “Don’t you hurt him,” she said. “Or …”
“Or what, little sparrow, you will peck me with your beak?” Dmitri flicked a finger at Izzy, as though she were a fly. “Be quiet.”
Izzy threw herself up against the car, inches from Dmitri’s face. “I am really tired,” she said through her teeth, “of people telling me to be QUIET!”
“Dmitri, ignore them,” Blue said. “Just get the stone! I’ve got an appointment to keep.”
“Hand over the sapphire,” Dmitri said. “Or we
drive away. And I don’t think you want that. My men don’t like your Darius.”
“I want Darius out of the car,” March said. “Then you get the stone.”
He heard the sound of the lock flipped up. The door opened. Darius got out, his hands handcuffed in back of him. The big guy was there, too, holding him by the upper arms. The door stayed open. It would only take a quick shove to get Darius back in the car again.
“Okay,” March said. He dropped the stone into Dmitri’s open hand.
“Dmitri?” Blue held out her hand. Dmitri held the stone, examining it.
“They wouldn’t dare give us a fake,” Blue said.
Dmitri shrugged and dropped the sapphire into Blue’s hand. “Go.”
Blue took off, rapidly walking to the Mini. She started the car and drove off.
March concentrated on the sounds of the park. A bicycle whizzing by. A child far away shouting in happiness. And the sound of a car accelerating.
“Naturally we will keep your friend until we know the stone is real and the deal goes through,” Dmitri said. “Maybe you get him back. Maybe not.”
March touched his eyebrow. “Mikki’s going to be here at six o’clock.”
“What do I care? We’ll be gone.”
Dmitri made a quick movement with his hand, and the big guy started to muscle Darius into the backseat.
Darius was out of the handcuffs in a second. The guard grabbed for him, surprised, just as a turquoise T-bird screamed down the street, swung in a wide fishtail, and slammed into the back of Zef’s car.
“NOBODY MESSES WITH MY BOY!” Mikki screamed.
The impact sent Zef’s car crashing into Dmitri’s. The air bags inflated. Dmitri ended up with a face full of plastic. White powder clouded the air, released with the deployed air bag. Dmitri howled, unable to move. The driver tried to get out but couldn’t open the door.
Meanwhile Darius had been ready. Before the collision he’d already pushed away from the startled bodyguard, who lost his grip when he’d been hit by the open door. Darius had leaped out of the way, rolling on the sidewalk and rising in one fluid move.
Mikki blew a kiss at Darius as she reversed, wheeled the car around, and took off.
“Awesome wheelman move,” Jules said.
The air bags were deflating. Pushing it out of the way, Zef was trying to start his engine.
“Time for phase two,” March said. “RUN!”
They raced back the way they came, then up the road toward the meeting spot, a Revolutionary War monument. Up ahead, a yellow Mini was pulled over, blocking the jogging trail.
Blue exited the car and walked the short distance to the monument. They stopped at the tree line, waiting.
“They won’t chase us?” Darius asked.
“Ransome doesn’t know about them. They won’t risk the deal,” Jules said.
“You’d think Blue would worry about a ticket, parking like that,” Izzy said.
“She thinks Chernoff is keeping away the cops,” March said. “Actually, it’s Dukey. He’s on the other side of the hill.”
Darius dusted off his pants. “Don’t know that I like being this close to the FBI, Marcello. Not a fan of captivity.”
“Dukey is waiting for our signal. He wants Blue, and he wants the payoff money. Here’s how it will go down. Hamish told Ransome that Blue is going to try to pass off a fake sapphire. Ransome agreed to come in a Mini.”
“The Italian Job,” Darius said.
“Exactly,” March said.
The Italian Job was an old British caper movie. One rainy afternoon, March and Darius had watched it three times in a row. In the movie, the crooks steal a bunch of gold and then escape by all driving Mini Coopers through the traffic-clogged streets of Turin.
“The money is in the trunk,” March explained. “He and Blue are supposed to exchange cars after he gets the jewels.”
“She’s going to drive away with our money?”
“She’s not going to get the chance. If this works.”
“Don’t say if,” Darius said. “I don’t like the if.”
“When.”
“That’s the word I like.”
Another yellow Mini pulled up. Ransome got out, carrying a brown box. “There’s our mark,” March said. “He followed instructions. Izzy, send Dmitri our message.”
Ransome reached Blue, and the kids walked forward to the monument. When Blue saw them, her face hardened.
“I think you might want to reconsider what’s about to go down,” March said to Ransome. “She’s about to cheat you.”
“So I hear,” Ransome said.
“Get lost,” Blue snapped at March. She reached into her pocket and brought out the jewels. Three sapphires flashed blue fire.
March reached into his own pocket and held up a gem. The gem was bluer than blue, more blue than the sky or the sea. “The Morning Star,” he said.
Ransome turned to Blue. “I’m waiting.”
Blue turned on March. “You little cheat!”
“It’s simple,” March said. “Either your stone is real, or mine is.” Actually, Blue’s stone was real. If something had gone wrong back at the car — if Dmitri had insisted on authenticating it on the spot, for example — it would have to be genuine or they never would have gotten Darius back.
Now it didn’t matter which one was real. It only mattered that Ransome didn’t know.
“Tell your little friend I need a solution, fast,” Ransome said to Blue.
Blue glared at March. “He’s no friend of mine.”
“If we start looking for friends of yours,” Jules said, “we’d have to do a worldwide search, and we’d still come up empty.”
“Who am I supposed to believe?” Ransome looked from March and Jules to Blue.
“You’re the one who came to me,” Blue told Ransome, switching to her rich, hypnotic tone. “You know you can trust me.”
“I don’t trust any of you!” he yelled. “You’re thieves!” He shook his head. “Hamish tells me to come in a yellow car, I come in a yellow car. He says there’s a fake stone, but the real one will be there, too.” He sounded almost petulant. “This was supposed to be easy.”
“I have an easy solution,” March said. “Take all four.”
“Fine. You lot can fight over the money,” Ransome said. “Once I get the stones inside my boxes, I’ll know if they’re real.”
Blue smiled. She thought she’d won. She knew that the Top Cats were nearby. March and the gang wouldn’t get far if they tried to leave with the money.
But right now March’s fingers weren’t itching to scoop up the cash. He wasn’t thinking every minute about the fortune sitting in a car trunk. He was thinking about the posse around him. He was determined that every step they took would remove the Top Cats and Blue from their lives. Protect Mikki. Protect them all.
Ransome laid out seven boxes on the grass as a white panel truck pulled over in the bicycle lane. A sign on the side read BABYSMART BABYSAFE. The driver began to reverse, then go forward, trying to ease onto the grass. He pulled up and parked, now blocking the Minis from view.
Blue and Ransome didn’t notice. Blue watched Ransome intently as he carefully scooped the stones into the smallest box, then placed it inside the next, and the next.
They heard the squeal of a truck door being rolled up. Joey Indiana appeared a minute later, carrying two strollers and dumping them on the grass. Back and forth he went, steering more strollers onto the lawn and lining them up.
Ransome closed the seventh box.
Suddenly the air grew blurry and thick, as though it was full of water. The tree in front of March shimmered and seemed to crackle. Izzy’s braid rose straight in the air. March felt someone — something — brush his shoulder. Static electricity made every hair on his arm rise. A sudden push propelled him forward, and he stumbled. Ransome gripped the box, his knuckles white. His comb-over uncombed, flapping in a sudden breeze.
Then whatever — whoever — was g
one, rushing into a vacuum that left them stunned and blinking.
Even Blue looked unnerved. She took a shaky step backward.
“Zillah’s gone,” Izzy said to Ransome. “The stones are reunited.”
“Hand over your keys,” Blue said to Ransome, sounding rattled. She tossed her keys to him.
“Motor’s running,” Ransome said. He hugged the boxes to his chest and jerked his head toward the cars, now visible next to the white truck, which had pulled forward a few feet. Joey continued to unload more strollers, and a small crowd had gathered. “I’ve got my luck back. I don’t care who gets the cash.”
Blue dashed toward Ransome’s car. She opened the trunk and peered inside.
March and the gang walked leisurely down toward her. She gave a thumbs-up to Dmitri, who was glowering in the SUV across the street. Even from this distance they could see his face was bright pink from the impact of the air bag.
“Free strollers!” Joey shouted. “Get ’em while they’re hot! I mean, they’re not hot in the stolen sense. Just a free promotion from SafeBabySmartBaby! Or should I say SmartBabySafeBaby!”
Joey had dropped flyers about the free offer in apartment buildings all over Park Slope and Prospect Heights. Brooklyn was full of young parents, expecting parents, and people looking for a deal. More and more of them arrived, some of them hurrying. There was some pushing involved.
The gang reached Blue just as she opened the driver’s door. “I can’t believe you thought you could beat me,” she said. “Give it up, will you? If I were you, I’d take off. You’re not very popular with my friends.”
“There it is!” A couple holding hands hurried toward the truck. The woman was pregnant. More couples began streaming toward them.
“What is this, a Mommy and Me class?” Blue asked. “Move it!” she yelled at the pregnant women browsing the strollers. They were blocking her car. She leaned inside the car and hit the horn.
“Noise pollution!” a pregnant woman yelled. She patted her belly in a meaningful way.