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I set the gun down on the pavement and raised my hands. Police leaped out of their vehicles, weapons drawn, shouting at both of us, “ Hands in the air! Get down to the ground! ”

“Don’t shoot! ” I yelled. “Whatever you do, don’t shoot. He’s got my son.”

One of them knelt behind their car door and pointed his gun at us. “ I said put your hands in the air and get onto the ground! ”

Nervously, I crouched down, lowering my knees to the surface of the road, hands raised.

Dev just stood there, ignoring their commands. He shifted back toward me. “Want to know why you’re still alive, doc?” he said, almost smiling.

My hands were in the air, an eye on the approaching officers. “Yes, I do.”

He winked. “Because you still have work to do. Things yet to find out.”

“Tell me what you did with Max, Dev! Please!”

More police arrived on the scene. Six or seven had now basically encircled us, barking for Dev to get down.

“Don’t shoot! ” I hollered, raising my palms. A couple of them were approaching, weapons drawn. “He has my son captive.” Then I turned to him again. “What do you mean, Dev, things to find out?”

“Ever play cards, doc?” the bleeding killer asked.

“No.” I shook my head. “Not since college.”

“You oughta.” He stretched a smile.

A heavyset black policeman came up, pointing his weapon directly at him. He shouted, scaring the wits out of me, “Put your hands above your head and get your ass down. Now! ”

“You know the jack of hearts?” he said, turning away from him.

I nodded.

“You should. I think you might learn something from it. That card just might have your future in it.”

The jack of hearts. I had no idea what he was talking about.

The officer bellowed one last time. “ Get on the fucking ground! ”

Dev seemed to smile, glancing at them, then back at me. “ Me -my future’s run out.” He finally raised one hand high in the air, as if complying-but with the other, kind of in slow motion, reached under his shirt and came out with a knife. The same one he had waved in my face at the motel. That he had used to cut me.

I pleaded, “ Dev, don’t.”

“I think you remember.” He grinned in my direction. “Some people feel I can do just about anything with this thing… The jack of hearts, doc. Don’t forget. One day it’s gonna give you a real smile. The day the devil sprouts horns.”

He started to come toward me, the knife in his fist, raised high.

“Don’t do it,” I said, almost helpless, “please.”

His pace picked up.

Now the police were really pointing their weapons at him and screaming.

“Don’t shoot, ” I hollered, “ please don’t shoot! ” getting up and putting out my hands to push them back.

Suddenly, a couple of them trained their weapons on me. I was almost crying. “Don’t shoot. He’s got my son. Please! ”

Dev got about five paces away. I never budged. I saw only Maxie’s fate in his mad eyes, slipping into darkness.

“Don’t! ” I screamed. “ Don’t! Please! ”

The next thing I heard was a deafening barrage of shots-maybe six, eight, ten echoing pops. Bullets tearing into him, ripping into his clothes with flashes of yellow and orange, the stench of cordite everywhere.

Dev was blown onto his back, the knife clattering against the pavement. From there, he just sort of raised his head and grinned at me. You still have work to do, doc. Things yet to find out.

That was all.

Panicked, I scrambled up to him, against shouted commands to stay where I was. He was making wheezing, guttural noises. Blood seeped out of his mouth.

“Please, Dev, please. Where’s Maxie?”

“Damn” was all he said. “I thought I would see him.”

“See who? ” I asked. “ See who? ” The cops were pulling me away.

His eyes rolled back and what he grunted last explained it all.

“Russ.”

<p>Chapter Seventy-Eight</p>

A moment later I was surrounded by cops, their weapons still drawn, barking commands I didn’t hear.

As they pulled me away, it hurt like hell. I told them my brother was dying back inside the apartment and two additional bodies were in there.

After a quick explanation, they let me go back to the apartment.

Poor Gabby was slumped at the feet of Susan Pollack, dead. Charlie was resting where I had left him propped up against the wall.

“Charlie, ” I said, kneeling down next to him. There was blood all over his palm and a lot more congealed on his shirt.

“Where’s Gabby?” he asked in a hushed voice, staring glassily.

“She’s here, Charlie, she’s here.” I didn’t want him to see her. I didn’t want that to be his last sight.

“She’s dead, isn’t she, Jay? I know she’s dead.”

“Yes,” I said, even as the life slipped away from him. “She is.”

“Evan didn’t do it, Jay.” His eyes showed a sparkle of vindication. “He didn’t jump. She pushed him. He said he wanted to come back down. To be with us. It was just as I said all along, right?” He smiled. “I’m sorry, little brother, for dragging you into all this.”

“You didn’t drag me, Charlie.” Tears in my eyes, I squeezed his bloody hand. “I just wanted to help.”

“Help?” He smiled affectionately. “How could you possibly help me?”

“I know.”

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