Talley glanced over. Her eyes were steady and cool, meeting his without guile. He liked her measured attitude, and her direct manner. He thought he would probably like her, given the time for it; she was probably a pretty good cop. The weight of the day suddenly pressed down on him with an intensity that left him numb. There were too many things to control and too many lies to tell. It was all too complicated, and he couldn't afford to mess this up. Like a juggler with a hundred balls in the air, he was going to drop one sooner or later. A ball would hit the ground and someone would die. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't fail Amanda and Jane or the kids in that house or even Walter Smith.

'I need help.'

'That's why we rolled out, Chief.'

'Do you know the name Sonny Benza?'

She searched his face, Talley thinking that she couldn't place the name, but then she did.

'That's the mob guy, right?'

'Smith works for him. Smith has something in that house that can put Benza away, and Benza wants it.'

'Jesus.'

Talley looked at her, and felt his eyes go wet.

'He has my wife and daughter.'

Martin looked away.

Talley told her about the disks, the Watchman, and Jones. He told her how he had played it, and how he intended to play it. She listened without question or comment until he was finished, then she crushed her cigarette beneath her heel and stared at the two vans where Jones's people waited.

'You have to bring this to the Bureau.'

'I can't do that.'

'Turn it over to Organized Crime. With what you have they could move on Benza right now, pull him straight out of bed and hang him by his thumbs. We breach into that house, get these disks he wants, and that's all she wrote. That's how you save your family.'

'It's not your family.'

She considered the dead cigarette, and sighed.

'No, I guess not.'

'All I have is a voice on a phone, Martin. I don't know where they are, I don't know who has them. Benza has people out here; he knows what we're doing. He could make Jane and Amanda vanish even before we read him his rights, and what do I have? Three men I can't identify in cars I can't identify, and Jones over there. I don't give a shit about making a case. I just want my family.'

Martin stared at the two vans, and sighed again. It was getting to be a long night for all of them.

'I am not going to let murder happen out here, Talley. I can't do that.'

'Me neither. Jesus.'

'Then what are you going to do?'

'I can't let those disks go into evidence. They're the only leverage I have.'

'What do you want from me?'

'Help me. Keep it between us, but help me get those disks. I can't let Jones go into that house alone.'

Talley watched her, hoping that she would go along. He couldn't stop her from going upstairs. All he could do was trust her. She looked back at him, and nodded.

'I'll do what I can. You keep me informed, Talley. I don't want to get shot in the back. I can't let my people get hurt, either.'

Talley felt better, the load lessened because now she helped bear it.

'All I need are those damned disks. I get those disks, and then I'll have something to trade.'

She considered him, then put her cigarettes back into her jumpsuit. Talley knew what she was going to say before she said it.

'You need more than that. You know too much for Benza to leave you alive. You realize that, don't you? You, your family, Smith; he can't leave any of you alive. What are you going to do about that?'

'I'll deal with it when I have the disks.'

Talley's cell phone rang, loud in the silence of the night. Martin jumped.

'Shit.'

Talley thought it might be Thomas, but it was Mikkelson, sounding far away and strange.

'Chief, Dreyer and I are still out here at Krupchek's trailer with detectives from the Sheriff's Bureau. We got some stuff to report.'

Talley had forgotten about Mikkelson and Dreyer. It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts.

'Go, Mikkelson.'

'Krupchek isn't Krupchek. His real name is Alvin Marshall Bonnier. His mother's head is in the freezer.'

PART FOUR. TACTICS

CHAPTER 23

Saturday, 12:52 A.M.

TALLEY