THE BRIDGE TO CARACAS (Volume 1 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 55

The drive back to Toronto was far from pleasant. Mike and Karen were silently lost in thought as they considered the compounding effect of the day's events. The singular consolation in all of their misery was that they were now totally free to be together without fear of Servito's reprisals. Unfortunately, the happiness both had long envisioned was soured by the bitterness of their desperate situation.

The evening newspaper lay on the plush red carpet in front of the ornate front door of Karen's penthouse. On the bottom of the front page was a large photograph of heavily clad firemen removing Allison from the smoldering wreckage of Servito's limousine. The story below the photograph indicated that the driver, Jerrold Allison, who lived alone in a one-bedroom apartment on Spadina Avenue, Toronto, was rushed to North York Hospital, where he was currently in a coma from which he was not expected to wake. It added that the destroyed limousine was registered in the name of Reserve Oil Inc., a company owned by Mrs. James Servito of Toronto.

"That's just wonderful," Mike hissed as he handed the paper to Karen. "The remains of the fat man and the limousine are on the front page. I'm surprised he survived long enough to get to the hospital. And your beloved husband registered the limousine in Reserve Oil. I'm sure the feds are going to love that one."

Karen opened the paper and stared at the photograph. "Do you have any idea where we go from here?" she asked, her soft voice breaking.

"In the unlikely event that Bushing appears, he's the first person I want to talk to. There's no question that he can link your husband to the crimes we know about, and probably some we don't...but if he doesn't show up, we've got a problem."

"You mean the whole thing's dead-ended, don't you?"

Mike tightened his lips and nodded. "I wish we could just call the police and ask them to help us, but that would be a waste of time. They wouldn't believe us."

"Do you still think that going to Buffalo is worth the risk?"

"What risk?"

"Crossing the border. They said we have to stay in Ontario until our trial. If Customs stops us and finds out we've broken bail, they'll put us back in jail and we'll forfeit the bonds."

"I don't care about the risk," Mike said. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to bring this nightmare to an end."

"Don't move. I'll be right back," Karen said. She turned and hurried to her bedroom, returning just seconds later with a chrome-plated nine millimeter Colt Defender revolver in her right hand.

"Where did you get that?" Mike demanded.

"I had it hidden in the bedroom. Jim gave it to me years ago. To protect Phillip and me." She handed it to Mike.

"What the hell am I going to do with this?" he asked, staring at the weapon, which dangled from the grip of his thumb and index finger.

"Persuade Bushing to talk."

Mike shook his head. "That's not me, babe. I could never pull the trigger. All it could ever be is a bluff." He glanced at his watch. "Anyway, I should call him. Maybe he's off the missing list."

"Use the phone in the kitchen. It's just beside the bar."

Mike hurried to the kitchen and dialed Bushing's number. He heard several rings, and then a click.

"What number did you dial, please?" an operator asked.

Mike gave Bushing's office number to the operator.

"I'm sorry, sir. That number is no longer in service."

"Are you sure?'

"Yes sir.'