Mortal Fear (19 page)

Using Turner would be a mistake, Daniel. If you want an electronics wizard, call the NSA. If you want Strobekker, give me Cole.

Baxter considers this long enough for me to get edgy. Then he says, The Bureau was slow to get on the computer crime bandwagon, Arthur, and Im not ready to say weve caught up. Cole came close to saving a life today, and he says Turners better than he is.

Daniel, Lenz says evenly, if my past work means anything to you, trust me now.

Baxter bites his bottom lip and probes Lenzs eyes. A silent conversation is taking place based on years of professional association, and maybe more than that. It might as well be in Farsi. Lenz is the first to speak aloud.

Hows my alter ego coming?

Baxter does not respond. Then, almost grudgingly, he says, Another hour should do it. Its tough to get access to some of those offices after hours.

While I have Baxter close, I take a chance. Mr. Baxter, Im ready and willing to assist Dr. Lenz, but Id like to do as much of it as I can from home. Theres no reason we cant work together that way. And quite frankly, I promised my wife Id be back by morning.

Baxters mind is miles away. How long do you need Cole to get you started, Arthur?

Impossible to say. Lenz glares at me. He wont make a commercial flight anyway. Not back to Mississippi.

Baxter checks his watch, then looks at Lenz. Id prefer not to use the regional SWAT teams for this. At oh-one hundred hours Im deploying a second Hostage Rescue unit from Quantico to a more southern-lying city. Jan Krislov offered us the use of her corporate jet, and I took her up on it. Cole, you get Dr. Lenz set up and running in three hours, you can hitch with HRT. Ill have the pilot set you down in Jackson. Good enough?

Thats where my truck is. I appreciate it, sir.

Lenz looks like he might argue, but Baxter doesnt give him the chance. With a curt nod he is away and reaching for a telephone.

Lenz motions me toward the door of the command post. Keeping my arms close to my body, I move carefully down the narrow aisle between the shelves of humming equipment, past Baxter, past the short-sleeve poly-cotton shirts glowing in the pixel light. Someone rises to let me out of the trailer, and when my feet hit the pavement I expel the conditioned air from my lungs and drink in the cool forest breeze.

Hearing the scrape of a shoe behind me, I turn and find the square-jawed face of Special Agent Schmidt staring from the darkness.

Why dont you wait in the car? he suggests, opening the door of Lenzs Mercedes.

Two minutes after Schmidt closes me inside, Lenz slides into the drivers seat, holding a fresh Tab in one hand and an Evian in the other. He sets both in a plastic drink caddy, then cranks the engine and closes the door. While I wipe the top of the Tab can on my shirt, he lights a cigarette, then exhales into the Virginia night.

Very smooth, he says. Very smooth indeed.

Dear Father,

The barbarians are at the gate.

It was inevitable, of course. And I have no fear that they will locate me. But I shall have to exercise greater caution when procuring patients. I must assume that the Justice Department will shut down EROS, or that the company will shut itself down for legal reasons. Of course the list makes that academic. I must remember to thank Turner properly.

Or will they shut it down? Perhaps Jan Krislov will resist. It could become quite a cause clbre. Another battle in her crusade for electronic privacy. Someday Ill have to show her just how private her little universe really is.

My God, such noise from the basement. I should never have let Levy catch sight of the O.R. He should quiet himself, or Ill be forced to send Kali down to quiet him.

But first things first. I need new patients, and I suppose my next move depends on the FBI. Will they enter the digital forests of the night? Or will they simply try to fence me out?

No matter.

I shall burn all the brighter now.

Lenzs Mercedes shunts us through the night like spores on a wind. He says were headed back to McLean, Virginia, to an FBI safe house from which his digital decoy operation will be run. In the Delta I can drive for miles at night and see no light but moon and stars, but tonight Im thankful for the busy interstate. The glaring lights and motion help me to suppress the image of the exploding PC and the screams of wounded men in the Dallas apartment.

Are we somewhere near the Manassas battlefield? I ask, recalling a golden summer years ago when my father and I climbed Henry Hill in the chill morning mist to see the spot where Stonewall Jackson earned his nom de guerre.

Ten or fifteen miles to the west, Lenz replies.

Is it a Disney World now?

No, they finally killed that, thank God.

The first uplifting news of a very long day. Back there, I say hesitantly. At the trailer. I was thinking that Strobekker, or whoever he is, didnt really mean to kill anybody.

What do you mean?

I mean the explosion was pretty much confined to the computer. He could have flattened that whole building if hed wanted to.

Lenz ponders this for a few seconds. That helps with the profile, but in the larger scheme it doesnt make a bit of difference. When he killed that Hostage Rescue man, he practically signed his own death warrant. If he doesnt surrender the instant we locate him, hes a corpse.

Lenz lights a fresh cigarette. Why dont we talk about it?

The case?

No. This thing thats eating you.

Jesus, dont you ever let up?

Believe it or not, Cole, Im trying to help you. You fear my knowing anything about you. Having leverage over you. But if youd really listened to me earlier, youd know this case means life to me. Its my personal resurrection. Dont you see the leverage that gives
you
? One anonymous e-mail message to Strobekker and he knows Anne Bridges is me. Id never be able to prove you did it.

But Id never do that.

And Id never betray a confidence from you. He cracks his window slightly and blows a stream of smoke at the opening. I respect you, Cole. You risked civil prosecutionmaybe financial ruinto come forward with the names of these women. Turner didnt. Krislov didnt. I dont know that they ever would have, so long as they werent staring the corpses in the face.

I start to argue, but Lenz may be right.

Guilt is a funny thing, he says. A sense of guilt, I mean. Its what separates you from Strobekker. Ironic, isnt it? This cross you bear makes you a better man. I ask you to talk about it only because I know the pain of secrets so intimately. Ive seen what it does to people. Dont get me wrong. I dont advocate unburdening yourself to your wife. That would make you feel better, but it would make her feel much worse. The noble thing is to bear the weight yourself. But that doesnt mean you cant share it a little. Even Christ did that.

I study Lenzs face for any trace of cynicism, but he seems sincere. I dont think I could just tell you. You or anybody. The bare reality of it is... I dont know... too simple.

Just start talking. These things have their own rhythm. Anything else is just facts.

You dont want facts?

Facts are for men like Daniel. Im a truth man. And thats altogether different.

After a slow breath, I push my hands back through my hair and say, You know my wife is an OB-GYN.

Yes.

You probably dont know we were high school sweethearts.

Youve been married that long?

No. We were high school sweethearts who got married twelve years after high school. Weve only been married three years.

No other marriages before that?

No.

I give Lenz a thumbnail sketch of Erin and Drewes family history, focusing on the opposite personalities of the sisters and the deceptions they used to hide them. The glow of Lenzs cigarette bobs up and down as I try to describe Erins unique combination of beauty and sensuality, but Im not sure he gets it. He seems more interested in Drewe.

She graduated first in her class at Tulane Medical School?

Tied for first.

No mean accomplishment. You never slept with her in high school?

Plenty of times. A lot of making out, fooling around. But we only actually had intercourse once, and it was a disaster. I think she just wanted to get the whole virgin thing out of the way. It was a mistake.

You didnt have sex with other girls during this time?

Too many.

Did your wife know this?

Eventually.

And she knew some of the girls.

Like I said, small school.

Was her sister one of these girls?

No. Erin and I were enemies then. Almost like brother and sister.

What life path did Erin take?

Four days after she graduated, she left Mississippi for Manhattan and never looked back. A guy saw her in a restaurant and
wham,
she was a model. She went through the usual celebrity arcWhos Erin Anderson? Get me
Erin Anderson. Get me someone
like
Erin Anderson. Whos Erin Anderson?but at ten times the usual speed. A year after she left home, she was drying out in a clinic in New Hampshire with a very wealthy friend footing the bill.

For the next few years she kicked around New York and L.A. on the arms of various actors, artists, musicians. I actually ran into her a couple of times on the road. But we just played the roles wed played since childhood.

Lenz stubs out his cigarette and lights another. How so?

Friendly but sarcastic. She made fun of Drewe, the saintly sister pursuing her medical degree with the commitment of a nun. She joked about my waiting for Drewe.

Were you?

I dont know. I had affairs during those years. Long, badly ended relationships.

Did you have sex with Erin then?

Hell no. I told you.

Yes, but its obvious that theres always been a strong attraction between you and your wifes sister.

Any
man who sees my wifes sister feels a strong attraction to her, okay?

But Erin doesnt feel reciprocal attraction to these masses of other men, does she? Not the kind of attraction she felt for you.

I didnt know that at the time.

Of course you did. Continue.

No matter what relationships I was in during those years, I always stayed in contact with Drewe. Sometimes a year would go by without our seeing each other. Just a couple of late-night calls. But other times shed call me in tears about something and I would drop whatever I was doing and drive ten or twelve hours to New Orleans to be with her.

Still no sex between you?

Not in the complete sense. Shes a different sort of girl. Very old-fashioned.

Was she involved with other men during these years?

She dated. But it never worked out. I dont think she
ever meant for it to. When Drewe didnt put out after a few dates, the guys usually went elsewhere.

But you werent holding to a similar code of abstinence.

Didnt even try. It was the classic dilemma. She wanted total commitment from me before giving up what she held precious. I wanted what she held precious as proof of her love.

Smart woman.

Okay, okay. Cut ahead a few years, to when my last band self-destructed. Where do you think I ran to lick my wounds when that happened?

New Orleans.

Naturally. Drewe was entering her final year of residency at Tulane. My career was in flames. It was start over or get out for good. What do you think happened?

She started sleeping with you.

Youve heard all this before, I guess.

Not quite in this way. But Im starting to feel as though I know your wife. Lenz allows himself a smile. I like her.

I asked Drewe to marry me, but she said we had a year before real life started. She said we should use that time to make sure we were sure. What she really meant was, I had a year to make sure
I
was sure.

I reach down to the drink caddy and take a long swig of Tab. I did a repeat of what Id done after high school. Packed up my clothes, twenty grand Id saved from gigging, and headed north to Chicago. I was going to relearn everything I ever forgot about the markets and earn our stake for the future. I took a tiny apartment near the Board of Trade. A bed and a TV. No guitar. Books stacked waist-high everywhere, even in the bathroom. Drewe and I had planned to see each other as often as possible, but we only managed it twice. The timing was too tough. But we talked on the phone constantly.

I feel a last flush of anxiety, but I force myself to go on. And then it happened.

Erin appeared magically in Chicago.

Standing in my hallway in the dead of winter without even a coat. She was flying cross-country with some
actor, had a layover in Chicago, and she just walked off the plane.

As beautiful as ever?

More so. White linen blouse buttoned to the throat, black jeans, plain silver earrings, sandals on her tanned feet.

You slept with her that night?

No. We just talked. I lent her a ski jacket and gloves and took her out to dinner. We took a cab up and down Michigan Avenue, rode the elevator to the top of the Hancock like a couple of tourists. I was lonelier than I knew. I found myself holding Erins hand as she looked out over Lake Michigan. The intimacy of it was... I dont know. Thirty seconds of connectedness in a winter when my only connections had been with greedy assholes and numbers. She didnt look at me while we held hands, but she squeezed hard before she let go and walked back to the elevator.

I stop talking for a moment and watch the constellations of headlights around us, racing toward us, overtaking us from behind. You want details, or just the Jack Webb version?

Oh, details, please. But for the details,
Mourning Becomes Electra
would be no different than the Oresteia.

I grope for the allusions, but all I come up with is an absurd image of Jack Nicholson trying to get Diane Keaton to sleep with him in
Reds
. We talked some more at the apartment. Sitting on the floor and drinking coffee laced with bourbon to keep warm. We talked about Erins time in New York, her getting clean, my giving up music. She seemed surprised Drewe and I had only seen each other twice. She had no grasp of the demands of medical school. When she fell asleep, I tucked her in my bed, then slept in an easy chair Id bought thirdhand from another tenant.

The next morning I forced myself out of the chair, brushed my teeth, and got in the shower. I felt like hell. I turned the water as hot as I could stand it. Then I felt a quick draft of cold air. The bathroom door had opened and closed. I heard Erin say, I couldnt wait.

I pulled the shower curtain away from the wall and
saw her sitting stark naked on the commode with her elbows on her knees and her chin propped on her hands. She shooed me away with one hand when she realized I was watching. I let go of the curtain and started washing my hair.

A few seconds later she stepped into the shower. Id seen her naked once before, in high school, skinny-dipping, and her body looked no older than that in Chicago. Her skin was much darker than mine, her hair almost black. Long and thick falling over those shoulders, and the same... you know. Lots of it. She looked up and smiled, then hugged me and laid her cheek against my chest, as if she meant to go back to sleep standing there in the spray. I didnt hug her back, but I wanted to. Im sure it all sounds calculated now, but then it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Unavoidable.

Lenz makes no comment.

She was so casual about it. Like walking in to pee as if I wasnt there. Like wed been married for years. She just didnt worry about things like that. Propriety. That affected me. Seeing her on the commode like that affected me. Weird maybe, but its the truth. And she... she just wasnt like other women. She kissed my nipples before she ever kissed my mouth. She seemed to sense it had been a long time since Id had a woman, long enough that any serious lovemaking would have to wait until shed gotten that first release out of the way. She used her mouth for that, and her hands. She knew before I did where I was, you know? And when I started to finish, she didnt pull away. She just... I trail off, unable to find words to communicate the experience.

Afterward, she stood up and hugged me again. She didnt speak, but I saw she somehow knew her sister didnt complete that act in the way she just had. I thought of Drewe then, but she seemed removed from all this, wholly apart from it. It was as though Erin and I were meeting in some place where Drewe didnt exist. The way it might be if Erin found herself in grand rounds at the hospital with Drewe. In that environment, Erin simply would not exist. The analogy isnt perfect. Drewe certainly has a sexual identity of her own, but

I understand.

You want me to skip ahead?

Its you or the radio, Lenz says in a strangely thick voice. Just keep going. From the shower.

A bleak image from
Fahrenheit 451
suddenly passes behind my eyes: I see myself driving through its wooded film location, a living book spouting my soft-core text for Lenzs strange pleasure.