3.
Against Mark's vehemently expressed wishes, he and Hardcastle had left the relative safety of Gull's-Way to visit Frank Harper in his office. They were followed to the station by the sole police guard that Hardcastle reluctantly agreed to have.
"What are you two doing here?" Frank asked wearily.
"Just checking on the progress you've made," Hardcastle replied.
"Nothing. No one has seen a sign of Carlos Guzman."
Mark's laugh was curt. "Or if they did see him, they weren't stupid enough to tell the cops."
"Yeah, there's that." Frank's sigh was heartfelt.
"What's being done about the surviving members of the hit list?" Mark asked.
"Five of them and their families have been put up in a local hotel which is surrounded by cops. The District Attorney is trying to decide whether to go on a round the world tour or be brave for his constituents."
Hardcastle had no doubts about the D.A.'s ultimate decision. "He's a political animal, Frank, with an eye on the Governor's Mansion. He'll stay, but he'll demand three times the number of police officers as are watching the remaining jurors."
"You said five."
"What?" Frank turned to face McCormick.
"You said five jurors were under guard. What about the sixth?" Mark dreaded the answer, not just because another person would be dead. With each name crossed off Guzman's list, he'd be one closer to Hardcastle.
"According to his neighbors, Mr. Giddens is on a cruise to Europe. We're still trying to discover which cruise line."
"So what happens now?"
"Police work. Mind-numbing, back-breaking, paper-producing police work."
"And can you get him? Before anyone else is killed?" Before he gets to the Judge?
"Honestly?"
Mark nodded.
"Unless he makes a stupid mistake or we get lucky, I doubt it. Guzman's a professional, Mark. He knows what he's doing and few people close to him would take the chance of betraying him. They know that it would be a death sentence, a very painful death sentence."
"Damn it, Frank!" McCormick slammed his fist against the file cabinet next to where he was perched on Harper's desk.
Hardcastle leaned forward in the visitor chair. "They'll get him, McCormick. People like Guzman think they're untouchable. His own arrogance will get him caught." He slapped McCormick on the leg. "I know you're worried, kiddo, but don't take it out on Frank."
Sheepishly, Mark apologized. "I'm sorry, Frank. I know you're doing the best you can."
"I understand, believe me. All I can do, Mark, is advise you and the Judge to take as many precautions as possible. And keep your trips outside to a minimum."
-- H&McC --
"Got the plans you wanted, boss." Leo brought rolls of paper into the small living room where Carlos Guzman was waiting. He spread a detailed map of the area on a table. "As far as I can tell, the best way to get onto the grounds is from the beach, but it's also the most exposed. Any successful attempt would have to be made at night." He pulled an envelope from his jacket. "I took some pictures of the area from a sightseeing helicopter."
Guzman flipped through the photographers. "Once you get on the grounds, there's plenty of cover. Looks like trees are everywhere."
Leo reached over and took two photos from the pack. "This is the main house. Hardcastle lives in it alone." He gave Guzman the first picture.
"There was a housekeeper, back when I was on trial."
"Sarah. She retired a couple of years ago, never was replaced."
Leo placed the second photograph on the table. "This is the Gatehouse, a small guest area. It has a living room with a loft bedroom. There's a bathroom and a small kitchen…somewhere."
"Somewhere? It's a small building, Leo. It shouldn't be that hard to find."
Leo shrugged. "I found plans for the house, but there are no plans to the Gatehouse. Anyway, McCormick lives there."
"McCormick doesn't live in the main house? Well, that might make our job a lot easier if we plan it correctly. And that might save McCormick's life."