The Caller (16 page)

‘Well, nothing. I just—’

‘Did we not have this talk, like, a few years ago?’

‘With everything that’s happened … I want to make sure you’re staying … sensible.’

‘I am… sensible.’

‘Good. Because if you’re having sex …’ He trailed off. They sat in silence.

‘I’m not,’ said Shaun eventually.

‘What?’ said Joe.

‘I’m not. We’re not, OK? I’m having a hard time … with … being close to someone.’

‘Oh,’ said Joe. ‘I thought—’ He stared at the floor.

Shaun stared at the floor. ‘The first time with Katie, I never. I mean, you know, it didn’t really
happen. And that’s my last memory of … sex. If I come close to that, I freeze. Like obviously, I can get … you know … but I just don’t want to go any further …’

‘Right. Shit. OK. Do you think … I mean… are you really ready, Shaun?’

Shaun frowned.

‘You’re young, you’re only just eighteen,’ said Joe, ‘and if things had been different in your life, I’d be giving you very different advice. I mean, you can’t always separate sex from emotion, whatever you might think. You have things to work through and I’m not so sure rushing into something with another girl is the right way to go.’

‘People are gonna think I’m some kind of weirdo.’ Shaun shook his head. ‘I can’t get Katie out of my mind. Anything that makes me go back to how I felt that night, I just can’t do it. I have this same dream where I meet her in the street or in a coffee shop or whatever, she’s always with some guy and there’s this feeling of hate coming from her. I’m trying to be friendly. Then everything goes all white and when I try to reach out to her, she slips back into this fog and I don’t get to touch her. And her face is always blank. She doesn’t smile at me. All I can think of is she died probably hating me.’

‘That’s not true. She loved you. You know that. You had an argument that night that was
because
of how much she loved you. If she was still here,
you would have made up the next day. So she thought it was your first time too – you wouldn’t hate someone for that. You might feel dumb, but that’s all.’

‘She wouldn’t have walked home alone …’

‘Don’t,’ said Joe. ‘You’ll go over and over it until you go crazy. Everything that happened was out of your control. That’s one of the hardest parts about life – you don’t know what’s around the corner.’

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Joe wondered what game Tara was playing.

‘Shaun, are you and Tara exclusive? I mean, could Tara be seeing other guys?’

‘Jesus Dad, bad enough you’re on my case, I’m not going to start getting into Tara’s sex life with you … or lack of it, thanks for your sensitivity.’

‘Just, what’s your relationship with her exactly?’

‘OK, now you’re just sounding freaky.’

Anna knocked on the door and stepped in. ‘What do you think?’ she said. ‘New dress.’

‘Cool,’ said Shaun.

‘You’re going out tomorrow night,’ said Anna, ‘so I’m inviting your father to a special home cooked meal.’

‘You look beautiful,’ said Joe. ‘Very … healthy.’ She caught him staring at her chest.

‘Thank you,’ said Anna. ‘And thank Tara,’ she said to Shaun. ‘I bought some of her SplashBronze.’

Joe studied his reflection in the mottled mirror in the cool basement of Augie’s on East 48th Street. He was wearing the same pale grey shirt and charcoal tie he wore to work that morning, but with a tuxedo that Anna had bought him in Paris two years earlier. Old Nic had discovered Augie Penrose in the seventies. He was one of New York’s finest tailors. For forty years, his basement was open only to a loyal band of customers. Joe, Danny, Old Nic and Bobby, even Giulio Lucchesi, all had Augie alterations or suits.

‘Beautiful tuxedo,’ said Augie, ‘beautiful.’

Joe nodded. ‘My wife …’

‘I saw the label was not from around here,’ said Augie. ‘Fancy guy. Guys give you a hard time for the European suits?’

‘Jealousy,’ said Joe, straightening each jacket sleeve. ‘That’s all it is, Augie.’

Augie laughed and walked over to him. ‘Pants,’
he said, pulling at the loose waistband. ‘Usually you guys come in, I’m letting the suit out,’ he said.

‘I’m running now,’ said Joe, ‘getting back in shape.’

‘Yeah, I see it in guys your age all the time.’

‘Really, Augie. My age is making me run?’

‘For the hills. You’re a handsome guy, Joe, but maybe you’re looking at those grey hairs, a few lines around the eyes and wondering “Have I still got it? Do the hot chicks still check me out?”’

Joe looked down at Augie, sixty-seven years old, with his skinny, hairy white arms and his powdery pale scalp. He flashed forward twenty-five years, then looked back in the mirror to reassure himself.

‘It’s not over yet,’ said Joe. ‘Sure the hot chicks still check me out.’ He smiled, but it fled quickly. Everywhere he looked that morning, women were pregnant, wheeling strollers, struggling with children and grocery bags and car seats and tantrums. Sharp surges of panic were overwhelming him. He waited for them to be replaced by something warmer. He couldn’t work out whether the last year had disassociated him so much from life that he had lost all sense of what he wanted.

Augie picked some pins from a leather pouch at his hip and went to work on the waistband. ‘Do you want some doughnut room?’

Joe shook his head. ‘No. Give me something to aspire to.’

Nothing felt normal anymore. When Shaun was born, Joe was twenty-three, had loads of energy that was all channelled into his work. By the time the new baby was born, he would be almost forty-two and pictured himself tired and with no energy to channel anywhere. He tried to imagine himself with a stroller walking through Owl’s Head Park, but the image wouldn’t happen. His stomach was a knot of guilt and fear.

Augie stood up from his kneeling position at the hem of Joe’s pants.

‘I’m out of pins,’ he said, disappearing into the back office to give the quiver in the expensive black fabric a chance to settle.

Dean Valtry sat at his desk, his manicured hands flat on the surface. In identical black glossy frames on the wall behind him was a row of photos showing eight dazzling Hollywood smiles.

‘Beautiful,’ said Valtry. He pointed to one celebrity icon. ‘According to her dentist? She had the worst set of teeth he had ever seen. She was this breathtaking Southern belle … until she opened her mouth. Her teeth were rotten. She was a child model, developed an eating disorder, all she did was drink soda, eat crap. Now look at that smile. A thousand watts. That’s what gets her the attention. And we did that. We gave her that career.’

Joe nodded. He was used to people like Valtry.
Cops were shit on their shoes, but they still needed to impress them.

Valtry kept talking. ‘Of course, the dentists are the glory hounds. We create the perfection. They get their faces out there, in magazine ads, on TV, pat themselves on the back for my work. They just whack up the price, charge the patient five times what they’re paying me – so you can imagine what they’re taking in – and get their ass kissed by the rich and famous. What I do is like fine art. You know what a tooth looks like: individual, ridged, indented, curved … we replicate that exactly. In school, ninety per cent is a good grade. But there’s only room for one hundred per cent in my line of work. When I make a crown, a dental implant, a bridge, it has to fit perfectly, like God himself put it there. Perfection doesn’t do percentages.’

‘It sure don’t,’ said Danny.

‘That’s how it is,’ said Valtry. ‘So, how may I help you?’

‘Mr Valtry, do you use Trahorne Refining in Philly?’ said Joe.

‘Yes we do. Why?’

‘We received a report,’ said Joe, ‘that a bloodstained lab coat was found in a package sent to them from your laboratory.’

Valtry frowned. ‘Yeah, that can happen.’

Danny and Joe exchanged glances.

‘Sure it can,’ said Valtry. ‘My technicians work
with these spinning wheels. They’re mounted on lab benches and they file down metal with them. These things can break, quite explosively, actually. You could certainly get cut from flying debris.’

‘That’s not the quantity of blood we’re talking about,’ said Joe.

‘Show me the coat. I’ll tell you.’

‘We don’t have that in our possession,’ said Joe.

‘What?’

‘It was incinerated.’

‘I’m confused, gentlemen.’

‘By accident,’ said Danny loudly. ‘It wound up in the incinerator.’

Valtry let out a snort, but slowly took in the demeanour of the two men standing in front of him. ‘Just how bloodstained was this lab coat?’

Joe leaned forward. ‘Enough that two homicide detectives are paying you a visit.’

Valtry paused. Joe had seen these pauses before. The person absorbs the information they’re given, speeds through what he knows, weighs it all up, then decides how to play it.

Valtry threw his hands up. ‘You’re coming in to my office with tales of a bloodstained lab coat – no, wait – an imaginary bloodstained lab coat and
I’m
supposed to enlighten
you?
’

‘Look,’ said Danny. ‘We’ve got the guy who found the coat. We have reason to believe it is linked to an investigation we are working on. We’re asking for your help here.’

‘This is crazy. Have you spoken with Bob Trahorne? You need to talk to Bob. He can vouch for me, my character, my reputation, whatever you need.’ He gestured to the photos on his wall. ‘You think someone like me, who has a successful professional relationship with New York’s top Park Avenue dentists is going to be involved in a homicide? I’m going to risk my income and social … position in the community? Or employ someone who would be involved in a homicide? Give me a break. I’m top of my game, ask anyone. I earn a lot of money doing what I do, I don’t piss people off, I make beautiful teeth. That’s it. Talk to Bob. I’ve been dealing with him for fifteen years. I have no idea a. how that lab coat came to be there or b. if the lab coat even exists at all.’

‘Yeah?’ said Danny. ‘You’ll understand how that won’t cut it with us. First off, can you tell us your whereabouts on March 13th last?’

Valtry paused, then leaned over to his computer and called up his calendar. He scrolled back six months. ‘March 13th? I was at home with a very bad hangover. The night before, my ex-wife and I had dinner in Gordy’s on 63rd and 8th. Gordy is my friend, with a generous hand in spirit measures. You need that while dining with a raving lunatic. You can call Gordy at—’

‘But on the evening of the thirteenth you were home. Alone?’

‘Alone.’

‘What were you doing?’

‘Watching TV. I went to bed early.’

‘And on September 4th last?’

Valtry smiled broadly. ‘Now that one, I’ve got an even better answer for. And I’ve got audiovisual aids.’ He grabbed a remote control from his desktop and pointed it at a plasma screen on the wall. The screen lit up, showing Valtry standing at a podium in a sharp grey suit and silver and navy blue tie.

‘There I am,’ said Valtry, turning up the volume on the television.

Danny and Joe watched as he talked to his audience about ceramic and porcelain veneers and clicked through slides projected onto the wall of the conference room behind him.

‘Where was this?’ said Danny.

‘The International Cosmetic Dentistry Convention, Las Vegas.’ said Valtry. ‘August 31st to September 5th. And that night is, as you can see from the banner, September 4th.’

‘So, how many times you watched that?’ said Danny.

Valtry stared at him. ‘I like to learn something from everything I do, Detective.’

‘It’s that perfection thing again, right?’ said Danny, leaning over and turning off the television.

‘We’re going to need to talk to all your employees, Mr Valtry,’ said Joe. ‘Could you please
fax a list of their names over to my colleague – Detective Fred Rencher – at this number, please?’

‘Not a problem, detectives,’ he said. ‘A man who has nothing to hide, hides nothing.’

‘And we’d like to come in here tomorrow morning and speak with all of them,’ said Joe. ‘Would you have a room we could use?’

Valtry sighed. ‘If you really feel that’s necessary.’

‘Everything we do we feel is necessary, Mr Valtry. That’s why we do it,’ said Danny.

‘Good to know,’ said Valtry. ‘I’ll get that list sent over. I have fifteen trusted employees, so it shouldn’t be too taxing.’ He gestured to the door.

Joe and Danny walked towards it. ‘We would appreciate your cooperation on this,’ said Joe.

‘Just so you know?’ said Valtry, ‘I
like
helping people. It’s part of what I do. My lab does pro bono work for a facial reconstruction charity. I
want
to help you. I mean you must be desperate, right? Following up on some invisible piece of evidence.’ He shrugged. ‘But one thing? If I see or hear my laboratory’s name mentioned anywhere in a negative context because of the investigation you are running, I will sue the New York Police Department’s ass from here to the next century.’

Joe and Danny stopped for water in the lobby, then walked out to the car.

‘Have you ever noticed people who are pissed off never say the letters?’ said Danny. ‘They. Like. Saying. Every. Word. New. York. Police. Department.’

‘What is going on with that lab coat?’ said Joe.

‘And he’s got to be some kind of fruit, thinking that actress gets all her attention from her goddamn smile. It’s the dual airbags that put her on the front pages. He hasn’t noticed that? Christ, it took me ten minutes to find her mouth when he pointed at her. Anyway, doesn’t matter one way or another, the guy’s a jerk.’

‘The type who could easily have a disgruntled worker,’ said Joe. ‘We could find out it’s his own blood. Maybe he wanted to put one over on Valtry, take that smug fucking look off his face.’

‘Have you been listening to me?’ said Danny.

‘No.’

Joe arrived home just after eleven, his whole body tensed. Anna didn’t look up when he walked in. She was curled on the sofa in pyjamas too comfortable for her to be about to entertain Joe or anything he had to say.

‘Hi,’ said Joe. He sat beside her and pulled her legs onto his lap.

Anna glanced towards him and back at the TV. In that instant, he saw the tiniest smudges of mascara under her eyes. She wore expensive makeup. It took a trained eye to notice signs of tears. He watched her for a while, the lights from
the television flickering across her face. There was an air of tired defeat about her. He knew tonight had represented all that was right in their marriage and all that was wrong.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘We got busy.’

‘You should have called.’

‘I know. Did you eat?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Did you?’

‘Yes.’

She frowned. ‘And in the time you were waiting around in a diner to get served, do you think you could have called me? You knew I had planned this.’

He sighed. ‘I’m tired. I’m sorry. I have so much going on.’

‘I made a real effort tonight,’ she said. ‘For us to have a nice meal.’ Tears were back in her eyes. She shook her head. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying.’

‘I do,’ he said.

She looked up at him. ‘What?’

‘I know.’

She read his face. ‘Oh.’ Her mouth hovered on a smile.

He rubbed his face hard. ‘I hoped you were going to tell me I got it wrong.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s true. I’m pregnant.’

‘How did this happen?’ he said.

‘It’s what happens when you don’t take precautions.’

‘But you’re on the—’

‘Not since the … not since Ireland.’

‘And you didn’t think to tell me that?’

‘How did you not
know
?’ Her voice was rising.

‘What, did you think I knew and I was actually taking some kind of risk? That I really thought “hey, whatever happens happens and wouldn’t it be wonderful to bring a child into the world”?’ He surprised himself with the intensity of his anger. But not as much as he surprised Anna.

‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘You really wanted this, didn’t you?’

Panic flickered in her eyes.

He put his head in his hands. ‘That night in those little shorts and … you were …’

‘I wanted to be with you.’

‘You wanted to get pregnant.’

‘You think I’m that calculating.’

‘Funny how we have sex once last month – great stats by the way – and you manage to get pregnant.’

Tears welled in her eyes. ‘Why are you being so horrible?’

‘Oh, Anna. Anna, what were you thinking?’

‘Looking at you now,’ she said, ‘I really don’t know.’ She tried to leave.

‘Wait,’ said Joe. ‘Please wait. I’m sorry. I’m off balance. This is just, this is huge. It’s a shock to me. I … I’ve been thinking about it all day. I don’t know.’

He reached out and held her shoulders. ‘I’m
worried about you,’ he said quietly, ‘why you wanted this to happen. I don’t know where to start with why we shouldn’t be doing this. Your health, your age, where your head is at …’ He lifted her chin with his finger. ‘Sweetheart?’

She cried, her eyes closed, unable to meet his. ‘I’m so scared. What have I done? Being a mother is such a … it’s terrifying. The world is terrible. I hate it. I never used to be like this. I mean, even if nothing had happened to us, I’d still feel this way: there is no peace out there. Do you know what I mean? You can’t escape to anywhere any more. Everywhere seems to be getting touched by … evil.’