He turned to look at her. His expression was somber. Yes.
But you said he was dying anyway. Why murder a dying man?
Dont you see? There was exasperation in his tone. Because of the bones.
* * *
The cottage had been broken into again. This time it had been trashed. The cardboard boxes of everyday household furnishings that Jake and Sam had packed were strewn about haphazardly. Furniture was overturned and pillow feathers dusted the floor like snow.
They walked through the rooms, assessing the damage like residents returning home after a tornado. How long ago do you think this happened? Manny asked. She realized she was now holding on to his arm, but he seemed to take no notice of it.
I spoke to Mrs. Alessis day before yesterday. She never mentioned another burglary, only that she worried about getting everything sorted and packed for the Salvation Army, said she was tired. It mustve been the carbon tetrachloride affecting her.
What do you think they were looking for, the Johnnie Walker Blue?
I dont know. You wouldnt have to do this much damage to figure out it isnt here.
Maybe they trashed the place because they couldnt find it.
More likely they were looking for something else. He stopped. Jesus!
I
may have it. I took home a lot of stuff from the study, piled in boxes and plastic bags. Ill have to go through it as soon as I get home.
Ill help you,
she thought, but felt too shy, too foreign, to say so. Instead she said, Why do I get the feeling that you know more about this than youre letting on?
I dont. Really. Its one thing I learned in the MEs office: people dont change not that often, anyway. You see someone come in dead of a knife wound, theyve got half a dozen healed scars from other fights. We find old bullets in people whove died of new gunshot wounds; its like theyve been rehearsing their own ending. Why would a sophisticated killer, whos gotten away with an apparently undetectable murder, risk exposure?
Feeling dizzy, she righted a chair and sat down. Youre scaring me. Sophisticated killer? We meet tonight to discuss a forty-year-old case of malpractice. Now youre telling me we have two murders, one of them, the housekeepers, unintentional. And Mycroft may have been threatened. What does that mean for us?
They know were looking!
The last was almost a howl. The possibility of danger made her exhaustion unbearable.
Was the trip to Poughkeepsie in my lifetime?
He put his hand on her shoulder. All I mean, he said, is that I dont believe someone smart and organized enough to poison Pete Harrigan with a poison as obscure as carbon tetrachloride, making it look like a natural death, would trash Petes house. He reached for her hand. Youre exhausted. Time to go home.
At last.
She started to rise. Did you hear that?
He stood still. Hear what?
Something outside. Noises.
He dashed for the lights, extinguished them, and drew her toward the front door. What did you hear? Be specific.
Footsteps on the gravel? Im not sure.
Jake cracked open the door and peered outside. In the light of the quarter moon, nothing was visible. I dont see anything. Are you sure you really
She glowered at him.
Sorry. He shut the door silently. Ill check the back door. You stay here.
Very funny. She followed him.
He opened the door. I cant see anything.
She pulled out her cell phone. Im calling the cops. The NO SERVICE light flashed.
No towers, he said. In this part of the world, pristine views are more important than pristine service. Lets try Petes phone.
It had been disconnected. What are we supposed to do? Manny whispered. We cant just hide here till the sun comes up. Im supposed to have breakfast with Patrice Perez.
Which means no sleep for me.
He took a breath. Then lets go. His voice was resolute.
Fine. So was hers.
Before we leave, he said, I want to drop the Johnnie Walker bottle off for the sheriff. I could have left it at the scene, but I didnt want to risk it.
They started out the front. She had locked the car, yet the Porsches door was wide open. Oh my God! Manny said. Mycroft!
She raced to the car, her heels crunching on the broken glass from her cars passenger window. Mycroft was missing. Mycroft! she shrieked into the darkness. Where are you? She turned to Jake, her eyes wide. Hes gone. Mycroft!
Keep it down, he urged. They may still be around here.
She glared at him. My dog is missing, she said sharply. Some of us actually care about living things.
Mycroft materialized from a neighbors yard and leaped into Mannys arms. The sobs she had suppressed for hours exploded from her throat.
* * *
Carrying her beloved as she would a newborn, she got into the car and reached for the Prada tote with his treats. Gone, she breathed. She twisted to check the backseat. Gone! she screamed. Jake!
He was on his hands and knees, searching the ground. She rounded the car and stood over him. Jake, my new Prada tote bag is gone!
He looked at her, eyes blazing. Its only a thing calm down.
Hes cracked. Hes a monster.
Jake. Someone stole my
bag.
Dont you understand? It had some of my confidential legal work in it.
He rose slowly, using the door handle to help him to his feet. His pants were covered with dirt; his hair was filthy. Obviously, he had crawled under the car.
Searching for what?
When he looked at her again, his expression had softened, and when he spoke it was with his habitual calm. Im sorry I snapped at you, he said. But they took something even more important. The poisoned bottles missing. It means whoever took it has been following us all evening and knows we know that Pete was murdered. Worry creased his forehead and made lines at the sides of his eyes. Jesus, Manny, Im sorry I got you into this. But weve been sucked into the vortex and theres little you or I can do about it now.
* * *
They found the Baxter County Sheriffs Office in a brick storefront just off Main Street. At 3:30 a.m. it was locked up tight, lights off. A sign on the door gave business hours as 7 a.m. to 4 p.m. and a number to dial in case of emergency. Jake flipped open his cell phone. The signal was faint but there.
He got a dispatcher who reluctantly agreed to patch him through to Sheriff Fisks line. The sheriff was not pleased to hear from him.
Rosen. I thought you were in New York. Whats so very important you have to wake me in the middle of the night?
Jake told him about the results of his autopsy on Theresa Alessis, his suspicion that both she and Harrigan were poisoned, the condition of Petes cottage, the missing bottle. Its a double murder, he finished. I wanted to alert you as soon as possible.
I surely am grateful, Fisk said, but I gotta tell you: I never heard such a pile of horse manure in my life.
You mean you dont believe me?
Rather than Harrigans doctor, who already signed the death certificate:
Died of natural causes
? Not a chance.
Hes an enemy, Jake realized with surprise.
Be careful.
Besides, Fisk went on, you dont have a motive or a suspect. Can you imagine the repercussions if I halt the mall project again because of some city doctors cockamamy theory? Maybe there was a bottle of scotch, maybe there wasnt. Maybe Harrigan killed himself because he didnt want to live through the pain of the cancer. Sickness can screw up your head. He probably never thought about the maid. Maybe you put poison in the bottle before you gave it to him for certain youd be my first suspect. And maybe well say good night nice and polite, and you and your lady friend can get back to the city and not bother us again. The receiver slammed down.
He was just as defensive about the bones, Jake thought. I wonder if he gets a kickback on the mall deal? He told Manny about his conversation as they got in the car. Hes right about the hard evidence, Jake said. Theres no proof anybody was murdered. He stretched. You sure youre okay to drive?
Unless youve learned to use a stick in the past eight hours, what choice do I have? She started the car. She was so tired she envied his shabby loafers.
They drove in silence for a while. Jake dozed against the window, a contented Mycroft curled on his lap. His eyelids are twitching, she noticed. Ill bet he saws people in half when he sleeps. She wanted to touch him, to ease his tension and her own. She wanted to feel the warmth of his hand on her face. She wanted to
Manny! He sat bolt upright.
Whats the matter?
Fisk told
both of us
to get back to the city. But I never mentioned you. How the hell did he know you were with me?
JAKE STOPPED at his apartment only long enough to shower and change clothes before heading to his office next to Bellevue Hospital, his mind not tired even if his body was.
Was Fisk the man who had followed them, terrified Mycroft, and stolen the Johnnie Walker bottle? Did he know who the murderer was? Was he the murderer himself?
A murder investigation would halt construction of the mall, even if the unidentified bones didnt.
Did Fisk have a financial interest in the mall? Did Mayor Stevenson? Was there a conspiracy with Reynolds Construction to bilk Baxter County and the State of New York out of millions?
These were the questions that obsessed him, and he found it difficult to concentrate on the paperwork that lay before him.
How much time can I afford to give to the case when my duty is to this MEs office? What responsibility do I have to solve it? Would I involve Manny again? If not, should I ask her to go out with me?
He shook his head to clear it
What in Gods name are you thinking about?
and decided his allegiance was to Pete Harrigan.
Long as it takes. Dont let his murderer go free.
A knock on the door brought his mind back to his office. Come in, Wally.
Dr. Walter Winnick always knocked, though Jake had told him a hundred times he didnt have to; the office was as much his as Jakes. The man was excessively shy, probably because of his clubfoot, but his education was superb Harrigan, after all, had been his mentor at Columbia. Wally had taken Petes death hard, and he took over much of Jakes paperwork uncomplainingly. The two often ate lunch together, usually at a cheap health-food restaurant close to the office that Wally liked more than Jake did. Their talk avoided the personal, though Jake knew that Wally had worked for years near Santa Fe, New Mexico, in a school for autistic and schizophrenic children: an ideal place, Jake thought, for a man uncomfortable in normal society. Still, Wally had matured enough to survive in the city, and Jake had been happy to hire him on Petes recommendation. When he once asked Wally if he could look at his foot in the hope of finding some treatment, Wally had bridled like a wild horse under a saddle. Actually, once a man reached Wallys age about forty, Jake guessed, though he seemed much younger there was little one
could
do. Clubfoot is a congenital condition. The tendons in the foot and ankle are too short at birth to produce a normal foot, and the best time for surgery is when the patient is still an infant. Jake never learned why Wallys parents had not opted for surgery, but then again, the sixties were another time. Jake never brought up the subject again.
Wally lived in a tiny apartment (Jake had visited once; his impression was of wall-to-wall books and mutual unease), liked Harrison Ford movies and medical thrillers, and dated a girl built like a minaret who occasionally picked Wally up at the office. Wally always seemed happy for what he had, not angry about what he didnt have.
Reporting for duty, Wally said, as he had every morning in the three years hed worked for Jake. He was wearing his signature blue button-down shirt under his white coat. Early on, Jake had wondered if he owned any other kind. The answer seemed to be no. Whats on the agenda?
How would you like some fresh air?
