Page 56 of Passion's Wicked Torment

She could barely see, the wind was so strong. She squinted. Her hair flapped about wildly, as did her green skirt. She risked taking one hand away from the handle to shove the gap closed an extra few inches, so it would be less likely to catch her pursuer’s attention. Then she grasped the handle again and held on for dear life.

By craning her neck, she could see through the gap between the accordion closure and the train. She could not hear the sound of the door opening, for her ears were filled with the loud, jarring clickety clack of the wheels on the rails, which seemed to rattle her very bones.

Then she saw him. He came rushing out of the door. He glanced to the other side. Then, just as his head was turning to the side Kristin was on, she jerked back away from the gap. She pressed her cheek, against the cold metal side of the accordion link and prayed desperately that he would not stick his head out to look for her. The tension was so intense, her stomach cramped, and she felt nauseous. For a long moment she waited, her eyes focused on the gap. His head did not appear. Finally she steeled her courage and craned her neck to the side again so she, could peer in.

He was gone. She sighed with incredible relief. She did not return to the inside of the accordion closure though. There was no way of telling for sure the direction he had gone. He had almost certainly continued forward, but how could she be sure? She clung tightly to the cold metal handles. Soon the train depot appeared in the distance. The train began slowing.

When it stopped completely, Kristin jumped down from her perch, landing on all fours. Her palms were scratched, but nothing was broken. She did not dare dart into the busy terminal on the other side of the train. If Peters was watching through the train window, as he undoubtedly must be, he would see her. No, she knew, her best chance was to stay low on the ground and wait him out.

Her strategy was nerveracking, but it worked. Peters did not dare leave the train, for fear she was still on it. He had to take a gamble either way. He could remain on the train and search for her, or get off and bet she was in the depot. Since he had watched all the departures and had not seen her, he chose to remain. Kristin crouched very close to the train so that she would not be visible from the windows. Soon the conductor called “All aboard!” and then the train began moving, steadily picking up steam. The whistle blew.

The train was past her now, disappearing down the tracks. Suddenly she saw Peters come out of the caboose, onto the rear platform, and notice her. He looked horrified. Kristin feared he would pull out a gun and shoot her. The distance by now was too great though. And the speed was too fast for him to dare leap from the train. Kristin felt an enormous sense of relief. She was safe! She smiled and waved at the vanishing man.

She started toward the depot. Now that the train was no longer hiding her, her crouched position on the far side of the tracks had become apparent. One inquisitive woman even went up to her and asked why she had chosen such a provocative means of exiting the train. Kristin mumbled some excuse, not even paying attention to her own words. She was still feeling shaken at her narrow escape. She went to the ticket window and purchased a ticket on the next train back to New York.

When she arrived in the bustling, overcrowded Grand Central Station, it was nightfall. She had slept on the train, despite her command to herself to stay awake and alert. But now she was refreshed and eager to put her plan into action. The first thing she did was phone the Treasury Department’s New York office and ask to be connected to Agent Joel of the anti crime task force.

Joel was astounded to hear from her. He agreed to meet her in four hours at the McCarty Restaurant on Thirty-eighth Street. He sounded wary when Kristin told him that if he contacted Dallas Hunter about this, she would leave the restaurant instantly, and he would never learn the important information she had to give him. Finally he agreed with seemingly great reluctance.

Kristin had not chosen a fancy restaurant, because she was not sure she would have a chance to change clothes, and she knew she could not appear in a nice place wearing the torn, dirty, rumpled dress she now wore. As it turned out, though, she did find a dress shop that was open right in the terminal mall. Only in New York, she thought with satisfaction.

When she appeared in the McCarty, she checked it out carefully from the front lounge before entering the dining room. She did not see Hunter, but that did not mean he was not there. Still, she believed she’d made it clear enough to Joel that she wouldn’t talk to him if he betrayed her. He would probably play it straight with her.

She was wearing a thin fox-fur coat now, belted, which she did not remove. She slid into the booth opposite the federal agent. Joel had the courtesy to motion the waiter over and let Kristin order before beginning to talk business. When her cup of steaming coffee arrived, and the waiter departed, Joel began his questioning.

“Why did you contact me instead of your friend Dallas Hunter? And what is this important information you have that’s so crucial, I’m not supposed to tell it to one of the agents I work with?”

Kristin took a sip of the rich, hot coffee and felt its delicious warmth go all through her. “Forget about all that. Just answer this: Do you want to get Ironman Gianelli behind bars?”

Joel looked impressed. “You can help do that?”

“Yes.”

“Well, yeah. I want to get him behind bars. I want it real bad. The entire department has been frustrated for years, trying to get something solid on that hood, something that would stick. As for me, well, it would be a real personal coup, a feather in my cap, if I could be the one to put him away.”

“Would it be a big enough coup so that you’d be willing to follow the plan I tell you, without letting Dallas Hunter know about it?”

Joel looked uncomfortable. He worded his reply carefully, as if fearful he might get into trouble if he said the wrong thing and it got back to his superiors. “Let me put it to you this way, lady. If I could bring in Ironman without having to share the credit with any Johnny come lately flyboy, who used to be a criminal himself, then so much the better for me. However . . . I’m obliged to tell you that my duty is to report this meeting and all subsequent information I receive to Hunter and to the other agents on the case.” He looked at her slyly. “Unless, of course, you insist that I don’t do that. And you tell me you’ll break off all contact with me if I do.”

“I do insist. And that’s exactly what I am telling you.”

“Good. That means I’m honor bound to not tell Hunter, under pain of jeopardizing the capture of this notorious hood. So you get what you want—though Lord knows why you want it—and I get full credit without having to share it.”

“There’s a catch,” Kristin said. “If you can’t get a contingent of armed agents to do as I want, on your own authority, then this won’t work.”

“How many agents?”

“A dozen or so, I should think.”

He snapped his fingers. “Easy.” He leaned forward across the table and looked at her seriously, like a carnivore after fresh meat. “All right. Now, what’s the plan?” He was clearly skeptical that she really had any ideas that might work. By the time Kristin finished explaining her plan to him though, he was more than convinced. He leaned back in the booth and whistled softly, highly impressed. “Lady, that is some plan you got there.”

The plan was very simple and straightforward. Kristin knew that she could not testify against Ironman’s previous illegal acts, because she was considered to be a biased witness. (Hunter had told her this on the plane ride back from Europe. The defense would claim that, since she believed Ironman was responsible for her brother’s death, she was out for revenge against him, and therefore she was not a reliable witness.) Kristin could, however, be the bait that was dangled in front of Ironman to entice him into committing another illegal act, such as abducting or trying to kill her. And this could be done before the eyes of hidden witnesses.

“You’re sure you can get these agents?” Kristin asked Joel. “The whole thing hinges on their being hidden on

the pier, watching as Ironman tries to kidnap me.

“Or tries to kill you,” added Joel dryly.

“Yes, or that. In which case I’ll want your men to shoot him instantly, before he can kill me. If you hesitate even a moment on this, I’m likely to end up dead.” “We’ll be there to protect you. I promise. You’re sure you can get Ironman there, huh?”

“The prosecutor won’t let me testify against him, but Ironman doesn’t know that. He thinks I can testify against him, and that my testimony would put him in the penitentiary. He’ll try to stop me, no two ways about it.”

“But how do you know he’ll show up personally to do it? He might send one of his boys. That’s his usual modus operandi. Sending some hood who’s low down on the operational ladder, rather than get his own hands dirtied.”

She thought a moment. “I’ll tell him I won’t show up unless I see he’s there alone. I’ll tell him I’ll be watching the spot on the pier from a hiding place, and if I see anyone show up but him, I’ll run away, and he’ll never see me again.” Kristin was so convinced that her plan would work, confidence practically radiated from her.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Joel!” Kristin continued. “I’ll get him there. I’ll tell him he can buy me off, that if he brings twenty thousand in cash, I won’t testify against him. He’ll show up. With no intention of parting with his money. He’ll try to kill me or kidnap me. Either way, you and your men can catch him red-handed, right in the act. That’s certainly enough to put him away for a long time, isn’t it?”

“Attempted murder? Kidnapping? You bet your life, lady.” Joel gave her further instructions about what he wanted her to do. Then he raised his whiskey glass in salute to her. “You are one gutsy lady, Miss Fleming.” He finished his drink, then left to gather his men and arrange the trap.

Kristin remained in the restaurant. She was not feeling very brave, just nervous. Everything depended on Joel’s men being in place and ready to shoot Ironman the instant he pulled a gun on her. If they failed, she would die. It was as simple as that.

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