They bumped fists.

“I was just at the crosswalk,” Carmody said. “You up to talking?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t see any tire marks over there,” Carmody said. “It means the driver never applied his brakes. Never tried to swerve out of the way.”

Musil nodded.

“I thought so,” he said. “I told Director Morse.”

“Something else,” Carmody said. “Having to do with Ki. Still all right with this?”

“Please, go ahead.”

“His body was thrown backward. Over the taxi’s roof. That tells us it was accelerating. Probably doing fifty, sixty miles an hour in midtown traffic.”

Musil nodded. “He came right at us.”

“So it seems,” Carmody said. “You get a look at the driver?”

“No. I had no time.”

Carmody stood quietly alongside Kali for a second, then cocked his chin down the avenue toward the Share Punjabi. Morse was still at the taxi stand with the police and drivers.

“A cop back at the crossing told me the van was stolen from a cabbie in the restaurant. He says it’s got a keyless ignition. Claims he had the only key with him. That there are no spares.”

“Then, how would someone start it up?” Musil said. “He would need a transponder. Something to relay the signal.”

“Exactly.”

Musil looked at him. “They’re very expensive. Tens of thousands of dollars on the black market. And they have a short range.”

“Probably the thief scouted out the territory in advance,” Carmody said. “I don’t know how else he’d be sure where the cab driver was. Which seems like a lot of time, effort and money just to drive the cab a couple of blocks and ditch it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He left it sitting at a traffic light. Practically around the corner.”

Musil let that sink in. “Do you think he deliberately planned to hit us?”

“I think you were targeted.”

“Why?”

Carmody said, “It doesn’t really matter. Like it doesn’t matter if it was you or Ki. Or both of you. He’s still out there. And he knows what he’s doing.” He paused. “We have to pull in. Assume he’ll find some other way to come after you.”

Musil looked thoughtfully at the ground. He almost seemed lost in his own world. But after a minute he suddenly snapped his head up. He glanced from Carmody to Kali and back at Carmody, the skin tightening on his face, shrinking in around his eyes and cheekbones.

Some other way.

“Blessed Lord,” he said. “My children.”

15

April 19, 2024
New York

Grigor pulled up outside the Woodmere Middle School at a quarter past two in the afternoon. He called the direct number Hausman had given for his assistant, told her he was there and waited with the engine idling.

Within five minutes, Giovanna came out a side entrance with Musil’s daughters. She spotted the Mazda at once and brought them over.

“Terrence?” she said.