“You didn’t see him? He broke in here, tore up the living room, and punched me.”

“He’s looking for Jackie,” Ted said.

Concern for Jacqueline overcame Jill’s own pain. “She’s not at the office?” It was more a plea than a question.

“Your grandfather has people looking for her. The guy who punched you: Big? Bald? Squeaky voice?”

She nodded.

“When did he leave?”

“Just before I heard you calling me.”

The elevator had come up from the basement. Nicky Greco had taken the same exit Ted had used the day before.

A trickle of fresh blood ran from Jill’s nose. She seemed unaware of it. Ted took the towel and gently held it to her face.

“Keep this on,” he said. “That’s it. Help is on the way up right now. They’ll get a doctor to check you out. When you hear them come off the elevator, yell real loud.”

She grabbed his arm. “Don’t let him get her. Promise me.” She looked fierce. This was no simple request; she was demanding a sacred pact.

“I promise.” He looked into her eyes. The nose wasn’t broken, but she’d be wearing oversized sunglasses for the next week or so.

“Listen to me,” she ordered. “I want you to promise me you will do everything in your power to keep Jacqueline safe.”

“I did. I do. I promise.”

As he ran to the foyer, Ted heard the elevator click. He ducked into the dining room and watched from behind a towering brushed-steel-and-ebony display cabinet as the two marshals came through the broken front door. They were followed by a uniformed NYPD cop. All three had their guns drawn. With an index finger and a glance, the woman silently ordered the other two to check the archways. Ted was about to be discovered and most probably shot on sight. The chase was over. He raised his hands and took a last breath before facing three guns.

“We are police,” she called out. “We are coming in.”

Jill started yelling. The three thundered down the hall.

Ted went out of the dining room, slunk out the door, and slipped into the waiting elevator.

-73-

-73-

Ted ran out the basement door, knowing that he was far too late. He looked up the alley. The bottom half of the metal gate had been folded up like a piece of cardboard. It would have been a tight fit, but the giant had made his escape. Ted had held no illusions of catching the killer, but he had hoped to keep him in sight.

Ted walked up the concrete steps, ducked under the folded gate, and came out onto the quiet side street. No pedestrians waved frantically, pointing out Nicky Greco’s escape route. No cars tore off, tires smoking. There was simply no sign of the big man.