No Way Back(Jack McNeal #1)(63)

“So, she deserved to die?”

Graff sighed. “Yes, she did.”

“For her behavior? Her treachery?”

“One of my tasks, what my company does, is to safeguard this nation and its secrets. I’ve abided by that principle, always. Don’t you get it? It’s about safeguarding this great nation of ours. And the men who lead us.”

“No matter the cost?”

“No matter the cost. Precisely.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“I’m sacrificing myself. So you know. Before you kill me.”

McNeal’s hand tightened on his gun.

“I know you want to kill me, Jack. I’d want to do the same thing. You know what I see when I look into your eyes?”

“What?”

“I see a man with his own secrets and ghosts from your past never far from the surface.”

McNeal was taken aback for a few moments. “Don’t play mind games with me; you’re so full of shit. You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I know everything there is to know about Jack McNeal. Staten Island, old-school cop father; wife the supersmart political journalist who probably outgrew you, if you’re honest with yourself. And your dead son.”

McNeal pressed the Glock tight to the fleshy part of Graff’s forehead.

“I know what happened at the party. The stray bullet ricochet. Your son died. I wouldn’t have been able to hold the line like you have for so long. I wouldn’t have been able to deal with that pain.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Your cop partner did it, waving his gun around. He was an idiot. And you killed your partner after what he did. In cold blood. You did the right thing. But don’t kid yourself. You have blood on your hands too, Jack.”

McNeal seethed.

“I read all about it. And I began to understand you better. You’re not just a great cop; you’re fearless. Without fear or favor. That partner was an Iraq veteran with a wife and three kids, but you had the nerve to take the fucker down. I admire that. Your NYPD partner was suicidal. He’d seen too much. He wanted suicide by cop. Very selfish, if you ask me. But not just any cop. He wanted you to kill him.”

McNeal’s mind flashed back to that hot night. A night he had killed someone. He realized now that Graff too wanted to be killed. He was trying to provoke him. Suicide by cop. He could see it all now.

“I’ll tell you why he did it, Jack. He was jealous of you. And he wanted you to be put through the NYPD wringer. Internal Affairs would be crawling all over the case. He wrote it all down, didn’t he? How he wanted to be more like you. He was a lost soul, he said. He wanted to be a hero cop. But he realized that would never happen. He was jealous that you were on the fast track. You were smart. You arrested more perps than anyone. You were a superstar. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He wanted to be put out of his misery. I understand those very same feelings. Does that surprise you?”

“It doesn’t interest me.”

“You say that . . . but that’s not true. That’s why you turned up. You were intrigued. I pressed a button. And you came to me.”

“Wrong. You came to me.”

“Fact is, you’re an ice-cold killer. You pretend you’re not like me. But you are. You’re so like me, it hurts. You’re me twenty years ago. Idealistic. Tough. Uncompromised. A lot of water has gone under the bridge in my life. Now the same thing is happening to you.”

McNeal motioned with the gun for Graff to get down. “On your knees, hands on your head.”

Graff complied, bones creaking. “Are you going to kill me? Here? In a fucking bean field.”

“Not before I know the full story. I’m not leaving here until I know the truth.”

Graff let loose a guttural laugh. “Gimme a fucking break, McNeal. What is the truth? There is no such goddamn thing.”

“You’re protecting someone. Not just our country, but an individual, aren’t you, Graff?”

“You’re a very perceptive man. Smartest detective in Internal Affairs.”

McNeal’s finger tightened on the trigger.

“I think you’re wasted there. A man of principle. Stoic. A man like you can make enemies. Was that why you transferred to Internal Affairs? The locker room talk of cops not to your liking?”

“I’m asking the questions. You’re protecting an individual. A powerful individual. You going to tell me? Or are you going to take that to the grave?”

Graff shook his head. “I wish I’d gotten to know you before. I like you.”

“Go to hell.”

“Speaking of which, are you are going to kill me?”

“I might. Is that what you really want? For me to blow your head off? Is that what you’re counting on? You want to neutralize me by making me the triggerman? And I would be implicated in my wife’s murder.”

“Very perceptive. Actually, yes, that is exactly what I was counting on.”

McNeal had thought as much.

“Just kill me!” Graff shouted.

“Who are you protecting? Was it someone fucking your wife? Who was it? A friend of yours? Someone important?”

Graff bowed his head like a lame dog.