Chapter 8

Chapter 8—Jack worries 

as Kate heads home

6:40 p.m., Thursday, December 25

Jack and his daughter continued walking until they emerged from Penn Station. Jack kept a tight grip on her arm, and an equally tight grip on his knife, as he led her out of the Terminal—east, away from his hotel. For a moment Jack considered telling her about his earlier encounter with Ice Pick Man, but thought better of it. “No need to worry her,” he concluded.
“Where’re we headed, Dad?” Kate asked, as they walked along.
Jack was so intensely preoccupied with their surroundings that he failed to respond to her.
As the two of them approached Sixth Avenue and Broadway, Handler pulled his daughter off the sidewalk and into a small delivery alcove off 34th Street. The smell of urine was powerful, suggesting that it was a favorite spot for the homeless at night. Kate scrunched up her face, placing her forefinger under her nose. “Dad, this stinks,” she complained.
“I know, but we need to make some plans. We’ll have no competition for this spot, at least not until later.”
Jack took a long and careful look around, making sure that they had not been followed. “Kate, I’ll take a closer look at that puzzle tonight. I don’t have business until tomorrow. I’ll call you, and maybe we can get together then.  Do you have plans for lunch, or perhaps dinner?”
“Only you, Dad. I’d love to spend as much time with you as possible,” she said. “Just tell me what works.”
“That sounds good,” Jack said. “But you had better watch your back. I do not trust that Jefferies. And we do not have any idea who he works for, or who else might be involved. You can be sure that he is not working alone.”
“What do you suggest?” she asked.
“Take a cab home,” Jack said.
“All the way to the Island?” she asked.
“All the way to your door. I’ll hail it for you,” Jack said, signaling his daughter to wait while he went out on the street. He walked right out in front of the first cab, and forced the driver to stop.
“Get the hell out of my way, you ignorant bastard!” The driver yelled at him, after he had opened his window.
Jack flashed two one hundred dollar bills, and walked over to talk to the mouthy driver.
“My daughter needs to go to Long Island, will this cover it?”
“Yeah, I think it might.”
Jack signaled his daughter to get in the cab, and he walked around to the rear passenger door to open it for her. Before she got in, he gave her a hug, and kissed her on the top of her head.
“Love ya, Dad,” she said, getting into the cab.
“Love ya back, Kitten,” Handler said, closing the door after her.
He then signaled the driver to lower the front passenger window, as he reached in and handed the driver the money. “You take good care of this woman,” he said, with his usual level of intimidation.
“I will take good care of her,” the driver said, checking out the bills to be sure they were not counterfeit. “You can be sure, I’ll take very good care of her.”
Jack waved to his daughter as she rode east on 34th. She then turned and gestured through the rear window for him to give her a phone call. He smiled broadly, and waved one last time.
Still blocking one lane of traffic, Jack remained in the street, taking care to make sure no one was following his daughter’s cab. Finally one of the cars he was hindering started honking at him. Not acknowledging the irritation, he remained in place for another few seconds, and then casually walked over to the curb. He pretended he did not hear one cab driver who had rolled down the front passenger window to share his thoughts with Jack. “What’s wrong with you, Buddy, you got some kinda death wish? Stand in front of me a little longer and I’ll make it come true. You stupid fool.”
Smiling slightly, but not looking in the direction of traffic, Jack checked his watch, and headed back to his hotel. He had the evening free, and he was anxious to tackle Kate’s puzzle. “Perhaps,” he thought, “I can help her get to the bottom of this case before someone else gets hurt.”