Hes probably right about the bomb but wrong about the hitman,
Jake thought. He had testified against mob figures several times before with no aftereffects. The current case wasnt high-level, nor was his testimony vital enough to provoke such violence. But it wasnt worth arguing with Melody, at least not yet. First he needed irrefutable proof that the bombing was connected to the Turner skeletons.
He walked back to his brother, Manny next to him. Sams eyes were open, and his blood-caked lips managed a smile. I said Id like a cocktail when I came, but this is ridiculous.
Theyre going to take you to Lenox Hill Hospital, Jake told him. Probably overnight, just for observation. The commissioners asked me to answer some more questions. Ill come right over as soon as hes finished.
Are you crazy? Sam struggled to raise his head. Is there something wrong with you? Youve got a beautiful woman clutching your arm. Theres no way you can sleep at home tonight, so youll have to go to her place. And you want to look after
me
?
Jake took a long look. Color had come back to his brothers cheeks, and his eyes were bright. Sam, he said, you just might be right.
* * *
What are you holding? Manny asked. Youve had it clutched in your hands ever since I found you. They were sitting on the stoop, waiting for Melody to finish questioning two witnesses about the bombing.
X-rays. He held an envelope out to her. I didnt get a chance to study them all at Galts lab.
She shied away. The commissioner might be right. This could be a Mafia hit and not have anything to do with the bones at all.
His fingers played around the edges of the envelope. I dont think so. The bomb in the car was one-directional, a claymore mine. Only the person standing behind the mine would be hurt, because it exploded in that one direction only.
So our attackers a soldier? This weapon is military ordnance.
Ex
-soldier, probably. Which narrows our suspect list to three hundred fifty thousand.
Or one. Is Wally still in Turner?
On his way home. Why?
We could ask him to look up Sheriff Fisks record. See if he fought in Vietnam.
Probably we can find out from here, Jake said. If not, Im sure Wallyd be glad to go back.
Melody had only a few more questions, and Jake had nothing to add. The police, having secured the area, were leaving; only two patrolmen were standing guard. A third was assigned to drive Manny and Jake anywhere they wanted to go.
Jake stood. Id better see about a place to stay.
Are you crazy? Manny asked. You heard your brother. Youre coming home with me.
IT WAS AFTER midnight when they were dropped off at Mannys building. Good evening, Christopher, Manny chirped to the night doorman, as if she waltzed through the lobby every evening with a tall, sooty man in torn jeans and bloody shoes.
Nice night, Ms. Manfreda, Christopher said, unfazed.
Jake and Manny took the elevator up. You live on the thirteenth floor? he said. Not superstitious?
Very. Almost didnt live here because of it. Are you?
Actually, no. Im a scientist.
They stood in front of her door. Key in hand, she hesitated.
Let him in and my life changes. Do I really want that?
She inserted the key and pushed the door open.
He stood on the threshold, taking in the room. Small.
Would you be more comfortable sleeping with Sam at the hospital?
I slept with him in the same one-bedroom apartment through medical school, and thats enough. Besides, Im cold and hungry.
The Four Seasons has good heating and room service.
No, thanks. Im a man of simple tastes.
She glared at him. When will men ever learn that size doesnt matter?
Its just that you have a lot of things in here. Jake eyed wall-to-wall floor-to-ceiling shoe boxes. Where do you sleep?
There. She pointed to a beach-colored panel upon which hung an oil painting by a lawyer-turned-artist of a half-f milk glass. Its called
Optimism.
A small white round table piled carefully with fashion magazines stood in front of it.
You sleep on a painting?
Its a Murphy bed, dummy. The panel pulls down. The paintings fastened to the bottom of the bed, and the bed sits on the table its known as design. She pulled down the bed, revealing a queen-sized mattress covered with a silk comforter. Mycroft usually takes up most of the space.
He sleeps with you?
Where else?
Some dogs sleep on the floor, in baskets.
Not Mycroft.
Whatd you do with him?
My mother took him back to New Jersey. She doesnt want me walking him yet.
He had forgotten her injured leg. Oh, Im sorry. You shouldnt be standing. I should be fetching for you.
Youre not a dog. Can I offer you something? A shower? Food?
Shower, then food.
Then?
Do you actually have a kitchen here?
Of course, this is my home. She pulled the screen aside to reveal a bar sink in a small counter, with a microwave above, a picnic-sized refrigerator below, and a toaster.
This is your kitchen? You have only a microwave?
With a microwave you need skill. Its a precision instrument. Ten seconds one way or another and
splat
we duplicate your explosion. Happened to my spaghetti squash last week.
He walked past her to look in her refrigerator; then, remembering her discussion of refrigerators and medicine chests at his brownstone, turned and said, May I?
Sure,
Mi casa es su casa.
Peanut butter and champagne. Thats all you have?
Not just any peanut butter. Its Skippy smooth and rose champagne. Everything I need for a balanced meal: fruit juice with bubbles the bubbles are so important and protein.
But as a meal?
Try it for dinner or are you a chunky person? You might like it instead of some two-pound bloody steak, charred on the outside by temperatures that cremate rather than merely cook the cow.
Your place is nice. It feels . . . freeing.
Freeing?
Theres order and not a lot of baggage.
I take it thats supposed to be a compliment.
It is. But personally Id rather be surrounded with my things. Did I tell you that whoever dies with the most stuff wins?
Had to get back to dead people, didnt you?
Maybe I better take a shower before my luck runs out.
While he showered, Manny located a pair of sweatpants and a large white T-shirt, once Alexs. When she heard the water stop running, she knocked.
Yup?
I have some clothes. They might not fit great, but
Jake opened the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. Manny took in hair, abs, muscles.
Nice. Dont stare.
She handed him the clothes and shut the door quickly.
Whose were these? asked Jake, coming out of the bathroom. The sweatpants stopped at mid-calf.
Old boyfriend.
And
I
was keeping back information?
I would have told you. She turned on the TV.
Jake settled into one of the chairs and watched New York 1 News while she took a shower. There were shots of his town house. Francescas lawyers were asking for a mistrial because the attack had stirred up sympathy for the states witness.
Garbage.
Manny came out of the bathroom wearing silver satin pajamas. She had left the top buttons open, but when she caught Jakes stare she closed them. Hungry?
Yes, but first may I use your bathroom?
Sure, but didnt you just
Not for that. I think I can make the vanity into a view box.
Youre going to
work
?
What is he, a neuter? A castrato? Get a life, man only not with me.
I need to talk to you about something before we . . . eat.
Something more important than sex?
If you promise well . . . eat afterward. She sat down facing him.
Promise. Theres something troublesome about the Turner bones. Skeleton Two, the humerus its radioactive.
His seriousness shook her. Desire dissolved in fear. What does it mean?
Something strange happened to that person before he died. Its a finding we might see in the victims of Hiroshima or Chernobyl, if they lived long enough. Come, Ill show you.
They squeezed into the bathroom. Jake switched off the overhead light, using the vanity bulbs for illumination. He opened his envelope, put the film of the humerus on the vanity table, and explained how radiation from the bone had developed the image on the film without the use of the X-ray machine. It means that something radioactive was incorporated in this bone, and this happened before he died. He switched pictures. And heres the mandible from Skeleton Four. The dental work is bizarre, amateurish. And look another pictureheres the metal plate from Skeleton Three. Lyons. I thought the initials were A.V.E., but thats why I couldnt locate the neurosurgeon. The middle letters abraded. The real initials are A.W.E. well be able to find him now!
Pretty amazing, Manny said, in a flat voice. She had long ago stopped looking at the pictures but was staring at him, and all his words about X-rays and radiation and bones were feeble missiles that failed to reach their target. Now, she knew, he had caught her stare and understood it.
She was remembering something that had happened the year before, after she had hired Jake to do the second autopsy in the Terrell case. The local doctor had picked up the postmortem X-ray of her clients chest and had clipped it onto the light box. Just as the doctors left hand had left the X-ray, Jake, without a word, had tugged the film off the light box, turned it around, and put it back correctly in one swift motion, simple yet powerful.
There was something in Mannys tone of voice that made Jake look up from the film he was holding. He looked into her eyes and in the next second leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. With precision and skill, he undid the buttons of her silver pajama top the buttons Manny had so carefully buttoned up and started to massage her breasts.
Wait! Manny said, coming up for air.
What?
Not what. Wait.
Why? Were both grown-ups.
The sight of the blood in the Alessis autopsy flashed in her head. Did you wash your hands?
Manny!
Okay.
He kissed her again. She remembered him holding Mrs. Alessiss heart, drew away, and licked his ear, hoping the pleasure would erase her memory. Then there was the sound of the buzz saw cutting through the skull and the clouds of bone dust around his hands and face.
The movement of her hands had gone from the rpm of a propeller to the speed of a failing engine. Manny, whats the matter? asked Jake.
Im fine. Do you get yourself checked for diseases?
He looked down at her.
Shes serious.
Everyone I autopsy is tested for AIDS.
Thats comforting, she chirped, trying to restart the moment. But there was that autopsy image again, in front of her, as if she were hallucinating. Arent you a little old for me?
You wont be able to keep up.
I love a challenge.
Okay, she whispered, but he didnt hear her.
* * *
She was awakened by the ringing of his cell phone. Jake leaped out of bed and grabbed it.
Hello? . . . Hans . . . Yes, Im fine. . . . Now? . . . Brooklyn? . . . Cant you tell me on the phone? . . . Okay, okay, I understand. The diner near the lab . . . Give me an hour. . . . Bye.