6. Tough Decisions

It was late evening when McCall returned home. Mickey was fit to be tied. "Did you find out anything? Is Elise okay?"

"I have no reason to believe otherwise."

"Tell me what you know."

"Mickey, each of us has our demons, things we can live with, things we can't. You haven't known Ms. Cantrell long enough to know what hers are. You must let it go, for now, at least."

Vinny arrived just then, interrupting their conversation with the delivery of take-out food and a brief report. "No action at your place, Mickey; no sign of the lady at hers. Here's your mail."

Mickey parsed his mail. "No threats, no warnings, nothing. Well, the gas bill is kind of frightening," Mickey said.

"Your pursuer could be patient. He could be building to a climax. Think of who might act that way."

"Oh, Jesus, McCall. It's not like I haven't used that tactic on anyone. Do you really think this might be payback?"

"It is possible."

"I just don't see it," Mickey said. "Hey, whatever happened to that sadistic KGB bastard who grabbed me?"

"I don't really know. He would be the type to play games, however."

"I never even saw his face clearly."

"No, I don't think you could have."

Silence resumed. The months that followed Mickey's kidnapping and torture were difficult. Mickey's "debriefing" required him to relive the experience as the Company mandated that he be cleared by a psychologist before returning to duty. Mickey resented every moment of it. He only wanted to forget it and move forward. Once he returned to work, he was treated as damaged goods for some time. Mickey never capitulated. He just did what he had always done. Even McCall was surprised how fast he came back. Lisa Scarletti had done the same, McCall thought. In a way, they were peas in a pod. He could not tell that to Mickey, however; he had given his word.

Vinny eventually broke the silence. "I'll check on the Russian. The reports on the guys you took out in Chinatown a few years back should be available soon. I'll send that over." Vinny couldn't leave fast enough.

Mickey excused himself quickly. "I'm gonna hit the sack, McCall."

"We'll come up with an idea by morning."

"Something better than standing in the middle of 5th Avenue and yelling 'come and get me,' I hope."

"Something far better than that."

McCall slept uneasily. He could not see why someone with a beef with Mickey would stop with an effort to wound. If so, two days later, there should have been at least a warning or a gloat, something. He kept thinking about Elise Cantrell as somehow being the real target. That was the ultimate torture after all -- to go after someone you care about. If so, given her past, Elise might have cut and run to try to protect Mickey. Apart from a total lack of evidence that it had happened, it worked as a theory. In the middle of the night, McCall decided the theory required further research. At two a.m., he called to request information about the Scarletti family and their successors.

During the rest of the night, McCall replayed Woodham's tale over in his head. Lisa Scarletti was in way over her head. How many times had McCall seen it happen, a young agent brimming with confidence set up for failure? He found it hard to fathom how Lisa Scarletti had come back to the job after that.

In the morning, McCall found Mickey feeling greatly improved. He had cooked breakfast for them both before McCall emerged from his bedroom.

"I'm going home today," Mickey announced. "No one's going to come at me if I stay here. I'll go stir crazy. I say we treat it as an accident and see what happens next."

"With some precautions in place, I have no objections."

"Tired of me as a roommate already?"

"No, Mickey. What would you say if I told you that I doubt anything else will happen to you next?"

"I'd be surprised."

"I have a theory."

"Which is?"

"I do not think you were the primary target of the act."

"Excuse me? It was the car and me, nobody else was around."

"I know that, but I think that you may have been used as collateral to get at someone else."

"Elise? You think someone hurt me to scare Elise off something she was working on?"

"Yes, and if that is the case, they appear to have succeeded."

"Shit. We have to find her."

"I would be happy to help in that, but first you must consider whether that would be the best thing for her."

"Huh?"

"You could respect her decision to disappear."

"A decision made out of fear?"

"I don't think we can presume that."

"I don't follow you."

"She may have disappeared, but that doesn't mean she's yielded the fight. If we try to find her, we may interfere with her own process. We could cause her more trouble."

"How can we figure that out?"

"It will require assistance from someone at the Bureau."

"You can call in some favors?"

"Yes, I can. However, I want you to think it over carefully first. Take into account her point of view and what you know of her personality."

Mickey shrugged.

"Also, if we proceed, I will need to know every detail you can give me about Ms. Cantrell."

"Every? I don't think so, McCall."

"You know what I mean. Go home, think about it, and call me."

Mickey left with Vinny. His ribs seemed greatly improved, which encouraged McCall. One hour later, Jimmy dropped off a package. "It's the first round of what you asked for."

McCall started with the skinnier file first, the one on "Elise Cantrell." Besides her employment dossier -- the computerized version Jimmy had told him of before -- there were a few newspaper clippings. You couldn't see her face very well in the pictures, but the taut body of the fighter she'd become was evident in the clippings from the specialty sports papers: Elise Cantrell, Western Region champion in American Karate. Aside from that, there was nothing.

The Scarletti file didn't have much more on her. Consistent with what Frank Woodham had said, Lisa Scarletti was nearly invisible in the pictures, clippings and reports. The only file photos of the female members of the family were not public, but Bureau taken pictures. None were very good.

The report of John Scarletti's death didn't enlighten McCall in any way. Nor did pictures and reports of the funeral. The only member of the immediate family who appeared at John Scarletti's funeral was his wife, Barbara Scarletti. Their only children had both died on the same night. In the sole picture from Scarletti's funeral, Mrs. Scarletti looked distraught and lost beyond description.

In the aftermath of Scarletti's death, a power void followed. Six months later, after some violence ensued, a new leader emerged: one Joseph Bonnano. He had been a leader under Scarletti, albeit one with a very different style. Bonnano was a widower with one son, less than cleverly dubbed Joseph Bonnano, Jr., who was also involved in the family business. The son had been educated at Princeton and was predicted to succeed his father in the distant future. The reign of Joseph Bonnano had, to date, proved much less brutal than Scarletti's.

The Company's quickly thrown together research ended there. The Bureau's files would be much deeper, and McCall considered whether he might need them, when a lingering question disturbed him. McCall called the Company. He heard back twenty minutes later.

"Joseph Bonnano married her."

Lisa Scarletti's mother survived and married her father's successor. McCall asked for detailed follow up on the mother. Next he called Frank Woodham. "What do you know about Barbara Scarletti?"

"She was perceived to be a nonentity, a mother to his children, but otherwise of little import to John Scarletti."

"Where was she the night that Scarletti was killed?"

"I don't know. Home, I assume. I never even thought about it, she was such a quiet presence."

"I see. Thank you very much."

McCall had a bite for lunch and headed over to Mickey's.

"Anything new?" Mickey asked as McCall entered.

"No, it may be several days."

"We should check her apartment."

"It's been watched for the last two days."

"We should go in and look for ideas."

"I assume that means you've made a decision."

"I'm not going to leave her hanging her out there. You know me better than that."

"So did she, Mickey. Still, she expressed a wish that you do so."

"I don't need to be protected."

"What if she does, but not the way you think?"

"McCall, if you know something, just tell me."

"I do not. It is just a supposition."

"What do you suppose?"

"That the best thing for her is not to feel responsible for another life being injured or taken as a consequence of her actions, especially not someone for whom she cares."

"Huh?"

"Put yourself in her position. If she were endangered because of her association with you, what would you do?"

"She's one of us, McCall."

"That makes it different?"

"It should."

"Yet it doesn't really, does it?"

"No, I guess not."

"Then is your answer different?"

"No. I want to make sure she's safe. I'll personally stay away if I have to, but I need to know she's okay."

"All right, then. It is time to tell me all you know about Ms. Elise Cantrell."

"It was all kind of here and now, McCall. She'd only come back to New York a year and a half ago or so, after kicking around in Texas, Georgia, Miami and Vegas. She doesn't like deserts or Texas."

"Where did she like to go out in New York?"

"Mostly we stuck to Manhattan."

"Where did you go?"

"Restaurants, movies. Caught a Knicks game once."

"What kinds of restaurants?"

"Nothing in particular. She likes Chinese food, ethnic food. Kinda cool on Italian."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I wanted to take her to that place in Little Italy I like. Took some convincing."

"But she went?"

"Yeah."

"But what?"

"It was an off night."

"In what way?"

"She just didn't seem relaxed. Kept looking around as if she was working almost. Too much time on organized crime details to enjoy the place, I figured."

"Did she spot someone?"

"Not that she mentioned. Is there some reason you think this matters?"

"Any lead at this point is helpful."

"Something odd did happen, now that I think about it. The waiter brought over a bottle of wine. Said a lady across the room sent it."

"Why?"

"Jeez, McCall, do I have to?"

"Yes."

"She said we reminded her of when she was young and in love."

"And you drank it?"

"It was a good bottle and it was sealed, so yeah."

"How did Elise react?"

"As I said, she seemed on edge that night. That didn't change it."

"Did you see the woman who sent it?"

"Yes, on the way out."

"And?"

"She said something nice, I don't remember exactly what. Wished us well or the like."

"Could you identify this woman?"

"Not from memory, no. Out of a line up, maybe."

"How did Elise react to her comment?"

"As I said, she seemed tense from the moment we got there. That never changed."

"After you left, did you learn what was bothering her?"

"We didn't discuss it."

"When was this?"

"Saturday, a week ago."

"Who paid for dinner?"

"I did."

"How?"

"Cash."

"Did you have reservations?"

"Yes."

"Under your real name?"

"Yes."

"Where did you go after the restaurant?"

Mickey hesitated. "My place."

"Together?"

"Yes."

"How did you get there?"

"We walked awhile and then took a taxi. And no, we weren't followed."

"You are certain of that?"

"McCall, we're not sixteen and we're both professionals."

"Did you see Elise again after that?"

"I tried. That was Chinatown. McCall, I see the line you're drawing, but I don't see any connection."

"No, I wouldn't expect you could."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"When I know more, so shall you."

"That's evasive."

"Yes, it is." McCall reached into his briefcase for a picture. "Do you recognize the woman in this picture?"

"That's the woman who sent the wine."

"I see."

"That's all you have to say?"

"Yes, for now."

"Why do you have her picture?"

"I had a hunch."

"Who is she?"

McCall hesitated before responding, deciding whether he should tell Mickey that much yet. "Her name is Barbara Bonnano."

"As in Joseph Bonnano?"

"Yes, his wife."

"He wasn't there with her. She was at a table full of women."

"No, I expect you would have recognized him had you seen him. If Elise recognized Mrs. Bonnano, the receipt of the wine from her must have made her uncomfortable, especially if she works organized crime detail."

"Maybe, but she didn't say anything to me about it or refuse the wine. And I'm pretty sure that she's been working on the Asian mob."

"Still, she'd probably know a good deal about the Bonnano family."

"Elise, yeah, she'd tune in even if it wasn't her detail. Still, I don't see how the wife could have known Elise was a fed. It would have to be just a coincidence."

McCall said nothing, for nearly anything he said would be a lie. He shrugged instead.

Mickey knew him too well. "Do you know something, McCall?"

"No, it's just a possible connection."

"How'd you make it without even knowing about our date at the restaurant?"

"Mickey, you will have difficulty accepting this, but you must. There are facts about which I am aware that I am not at liberty to tell you just now. In the end, these facts may have nothing to do with the attempt on your life or Elise's departure. I shall continue to follow up these facts. Meanwhile, it would be most helpful -- assuming you feel well enough to do so -- if you and Jimmy work towards finding the driver of the taxi. He is a crucial missing link."

Mickey nodded, stifling the many questions he had and showing his trust in McCall.

"Mickey, I am serious. Stay away from her apartment. Don't call, don't visit. You will do her a disservice if you do so."

"Sure, McCall. Jimmy and I are in the mood for Vietnamese food anyway."

McCall smiled and left. In his car, he called Vinny. "I will meet you at her apartment house in thirty minutes."