Impulse by Catherine Coulter Read Free Book Online Page B

and he now wore a short-sleeved shirt with a fresh pair of white slacks. He looked urbane and quite cool despite the carnage that had swept over the western side of the island, leaving him shot, his men gassed, and a deal gone sour. He was fifty-seven years old and looked younger. He had fine bones, Marcus thought, studying him. And good muscle tone for a man of any age. Coco insisted in that understated French way of hers that all of Dominick was well toned. Pale blue eyes, starkly deep eyes, that saw everything. His once-black hair was peppered with white that made him look all the more powerful, all the more charismatic. Marcus kept silent now, knowing that Dominick would talk when he chose to do so. He forced himself to be patient, trying to relax and not fight against the waves of pain. He knew well enough that tensing his muscles would only make it worse. He remembered suddenly that first time he’d believed Dominick to be utterly human. He’d been showing Marcus his art collection. He’d been the proud father praising his children, and Marcus had nearly forgotten. Marcus shook away the memory.
    “Is DeLorio back?” he asked finally.
    Dominick shook his head. “I told him to remain in Miami, to have that meeting with Mario Calpas. He’s not needed here. Haymes says you’ll be just fine. The bullet tore muscle, but you’ll heal if you don’t overdo for a couple of weeks. He also said you’d get back all your rotation and your strength. I know it’ll be hard, but you’ve got to heal, Marcus.” He absently rubbed his wounded arm. Then, “The deal with the Dutchmen was set. You know that, you went to Boston to wrap up the final details with Pearlman. Their appearance today was primarily one of diplomacy, if you will. A show of our continued goodwill; their continued desire to do business with us. They were, supposedly, the consummate middlemen.” He shrugged.
    “Who or what is
Bathsheba
?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “That word was on the side of the helicopter. It was in green letters—
Bathsheba
.”
    “I don’t know. Painted on the side of the helicopter? Like a company name or logo?”
    At Marcus’s nod, Dominick said slowly, “Well, there was Queen Bathsheba, a woman I’m sure was nothing like Tulp. It’s interesting, though. A name of an organization. We’ll find out. I’ve already got contacts working on Tulp. Pearlman claims, ah, vociferously, that he doesn’t understand a thing. As for the phone number in Amsterdam, it’s disconnected. The two Dutchmen are in the tool shed, doubtless contemplating their sins.” Dominick fell silent a moment, then added, looking bewildered, “It’s amazing. They actually believed they’d get away with killing me and getting off this island.” He patted Marcus’s arm and rose. “You get some rest, my boy. Then, when you’re feeling up to it, we’ll question our guests and find out what the hell happened. But, you know, Marcus, I’d be very surprised if the two men know anything. Apity, but I hate coercion-forced persuasion, if you will.”
    “But there’s no need to wait, Dominick. Bring them in here, or I can go—”
    “No, Marcus.” Dominick shrugged. “Perhaps that’s why I’m content to wait. They won’t know anything. You know I’m right.”
    “All right, then, but at least tell me how three people managed to knock out all our men.”
    “It was cleverly done, yet very, very basic. They came in friendship, but Link, you know, is the most suspicious of men. He wanted them searched. I’d already sent Merkel to get you. Before any searching could begin, the woman, Tulp, after shaking my hand, stuck her nasty little automatic in my ribs. I knew, strangely enough, that she was fully prepared to kill me if the men didn’t drop their weapons and agree to be herded like donkeys into the dining room. They went, and Koerbogh gassed them. As for DeLorio, he’d already left for Miami. Paula was at the resort, and my poor Coco