The Caller (25 page)

It was late evening when they got back to the office. The atmosphere was grim. The only thing worse than a stalled investigation was riding a rollercoaster of promising leads to nowhere.

‘Do you know what it is tomorrow?’ said Joe.

‘No,’ said Danny.

‘My surgery.’

Danny laughed. ‘You looking for a way out? You looking for me to say – you can’t go now, you’re too tired or the case will fall apart without you?’

‘That’d be great,’ said Joe.

‘Yeah, well I’m not,’ said Danny. ‘You need this.
You want to know it’s an expert who’s drilling into your face, right? Not some student doctor. This is your one chance.’

Joe bowed his head. ‘Drilling into my face …’

‘Yeah, well that’s what it is.’

Joe sighed. ‘So do I go or not?’

‘Go,’ said Danny. ‘You’re off work a day. We’ll survive without you. You can have a rest.’

‘Who the fuck rests in a hospital, I’d like to know.’

‘Well, whatever.’

Joe stood up. ‘OK. OK. I’ll go home, catch a few hours sleep, then I guess I’m going in.’

Danny stood up and reached out his hand. ‘Don’t worry. We got things under control.’

‘OK. Let me know.’

‘Man, I want to wish you the very best of luck with the operation.’

Joe paused. ‘Thank you.’

‘Any last words?’ said Danny.

‘Very and fucking and funny.’

‘I’ll store them up for you,’ said Danny.

‘Right,’ said Joe.

‘Right,’ said Danny. ‘I’ll see you …’

‘The day after tomorrow.’

‘Are you
really
—’

‘Yes I am. Shut the fuck up.’

‘I’ll call Anna for the update.’

‘OK.’

‘You’re DNR, right?’

‘Detective Lucchesi?’ A tall thin man walked into the ward. ‘I’m Dr Branfield, I’ll be carrying out your procedure this morning.’

‘How you doing, Doctor?’ said Joe.

Branfield smiled. ‘Well,
I’m
fine. Just to reassure you, what’s going to happen is a minor procedure, I’ve performed more than any other surgeon in the U.S., so it’s like a walk in the park for me. And it will be the same for you … if you usually walk lying down and sedated.’

Joe made the effort to smile.

‘You have nothing to worry about,’ said Branfield, ‘it will all be over and done with in about thirty minutes. And before you know it, you’ll be going out of your way to eat steak.’ He walked away. ‘See you in theater.’

Four words Joe thought he would never have to hear in his lifetime. His stomach was empty, but it felt like it weighed a ton. He lay back on
the pillow with his arm above his head.
What am
I doing?
His phone beeped. It was a text from Anna: ‘Good luck. We’re all thinking of you! XX’

‘Ready to rock?’ said a bright voice from the doorway.

‘Sure,’ said Joe, against every single impulse in his body and mind.

He found himself on a gurney, staring up at the ceiling, watching the lights fly overhead as he was being wheeled in for his anaesthetic. The male nurse guiding him along was talking at high speed about his cell phone coverage and how bad it was in his new apartment. Joe felt like punching him. His hands were already in fists, tight and rigid by his side. He tried to relax, but something had happened to his breathing, stalling it like a car out of gear. The nurse glanced at him.

‘You’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘Take some deep breaths. Honestly, it will make all the difference. In. Out. In. Out.’

Joe locked eyes with the nurse and realized he was now the only person who could stop him from getting up and running out on the street in a gown. He synched his breathing with him and turned away.

‘Now,’ said the nurse, his voice cheery. ‘It’s all good.’

‘Thanks,’ said Joe.

‘Pardon me?’

‘Uh, thanks.’

‘Oh, not a problem. OK, here we are.’

Joe’s head jerked towards the door. ‘Quick. Great,’ he said.

‘In we go.’

He delivered Joe into the waiting surgical team and said goodbye. Joe didn’t want him to leave. In a corner of the room, a doctor was turning away from the group of theater nurses, laughing. A nurse moved over to Joe and introduced him.

‘This is Dr Graff, your anaesthetist.’

‘Hello,’ said Dr Graff. ‘OK. This is the first step towards you feeling a whole lot better.’ He smiled. ‘But if you’ve made it this far, I guess I’m telling you something you already know.’ He smiled again. ‘OK. I’m going to give you a little something and before you finish counting down from ten to zero, you’ll feel yourself go under …’

But Joe wasn’t thinking about going under. He was thinking about telling somebody something they already knew. Lying on his back, naked and vulnerable, everything started to slot into place. He struggled up from the gurney.

‘It’s OK,’ said the nurse. ‘You’ll be—’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Joe. ‘I gotta go.’

Martinez brought two cups of coffee to Danny’s desk and handed him one.

‘Milk, two sugars,’ he said.

‘God bless your memory,’ said Danny. He
glanced at his watch. ‘I’d say Joe is going under round about – now.’

Martinez sat at the edge of the desk.

‘How long’s he gonna be gone?’

‘Just a day or two,’ said Danny.

‘I’d hate to have anything done to my face,’ said Martinez, stroking his jaw. ‘Anyone fucking with you like that. I don’t even get the whole laser eye surgery thing. Totally freaks me out.’

‘Yeah, well I guess Joe’s desperate.’

Danny’s cell phone rang. ‘Yeah?’

‘Get the hell over to the hospital.’

‘Joe?’ said Danny. ‘Holy shit! Aren’t you in surgery? Where are you right now?’

‘Not dressed enough to be standing in a hospital hallway on a payphone,’ said Joe.

‘Have you been administered any medication?’

‘Just hurry the fuck up.’

‘You got clothes there?’

‘No. I’m going to do this one naked. Course I’ve got clothes. I just need to find my room.’

‘I’m on my way. What about your surgery?’ But he didn’t wait for an answer.

The drive through Westchester was familiar to Joe – he had stayed in his father’s house in Rye with Shaun when they came back from Ireland. Today, they were seven miles further from the city in a quiet stretch of countryside, a perfect setting for the second Colt-Embry Clinic. They followed the
blacktop road that curved through the half-finished gardens and led to the main building. They walked past the empty reception desk and stopped at a stack of signs, edged in protective cardboard, leaning against the walls. They had yet to be mounted, but showed with a neat black arrow the way to Julia Embry’s office. They knocked, but opened the door without waiting. Julia jumped and half-staggered up from her chair.

‘Where is Mary?’ Joe was shouting.

Julia was pale. She nodded. ‘She’s here. She’s safe.’

‘Do you know how many people are out looking for her?’ said Joe. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

Danny put a steadying hand on Joe’s arm. Joe pulled away from it.

‘No,’ he said. ‘What the fuck is going on here?’

Julia started to cry.

‘No fucking tears,’ said Joe. ‘Quit it with the fucking tears.’

‘Joe, come on,’ said Danny. ‘Calm down.’ He turned to Julia. ‘Mrs Embry, we’re glad Mary is safe.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Where is she?’

‘In the new apartments. I moved her out here early. I couldn’t watch her go through any more. I know she was the one who got in contact with you. And I know you’ve been kind to her. But her life has been turned upside down and I didn’t
want her to go through any more. I couldn’t face it.’

‘Is Stan here too?’

‘Yes.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Joe.

Julia sat back down in her chair. ‘You have a close family, Detective, I read about you,’ she said. ‘And it’s a different dynamic than when you don’t. Stan, Mary … they can disappear without people paying too much attention. They have no family to panic when they’re gone. How many missing person reports are filed—’

‘Let me stop you right there,’ said Joe. ‘I’m genuinely concerned. Have I come across as someone who thinks human beings are disposable?’

Julia’s face burned. She avoided his stare. ‘I’m sorry. No, no you haven’t.’

‘Thank you,’ said Joe. ‘Because you need to know there are a lot of people in my line of work who care – me, my partner, the entire task force. We care about the people we meet. You think I come in contact with someone like Mary Burig, she disappears and we’re all going to forget about her? Yeah, you might be able to sleep at night knowing she’s safe. But maybe I can’t. Maybe I’ll wake up wondering what I did wrong. What if it was you? How would you feel?’

‘I’m sorry.’

He shook his head. ‘Look, I can’t argue with what you want to do with the clinic,’ said Joe.
‘And what you
have
done, how many people you’ve helped. There should be a million of these clinics all over the country.’

‘Thank you,’ said Julia. ‘That means a lot.’ Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘I don’t know how I got into this mess – I’m sorry.’ She looked up at him. ‘How did you know?’

‘I see people cry a lot,’ said Joe. ‘I see real tears and fake ones. When I told you about Stan and Robin, I saw real tears. But I knew you were crying for another reason. I got the impression I was telling you something you already knew. Does that make sense? You know sometimes you see people cry at a funeral – and you just get from them that something else is going on. That’s what it’s like.’

She smiled sadly. ‘You’re right. I was crying for something else.’

‘For what?’

‘Because it reminded me yet again that I had a son who wanted to die.’

‘What?’

‘Robin drove straight into Stan’s path.’

‘And you believe that?’ said Joe.

‘Yes. Life was unbearable at home. I knew he wasn’t … well. It was all too much for him. He had attempted suicide before. Stan confirmed what I had suspected.’

‘How did you know about Stan?’ said Joe.

‘He broke down and told me. It was as simple
as that. After he had been working for me for years. He said he just couldn’t take the guilt. He said me being nice to him made it worse. He couldn’t just leave, because he knew how important he was to me, but he couldn’t stay because every day, he felt like a fraud.’

‘How did you react when he told you?’

‘Well, I was devastated.’

‘But you recovered …’ said Joe.

Julia looked up at him.

‘You recovered when you realized you had someone for the rest of your life that would do anything to make up for taking away your child.’

‘I’m not that cynical,’ said Julia.

‘Come on,’ said Joe. ‘You knew what you were doing.’

‘It’s not like that,’ said Julia. ‘Stan had become a really dear friend. I lost my son, I lost my husband. I could not lose someone else. I just couldn’t. No-one could bring Robin back. Stan wasn’t a bad person. There was nothing to be gained by shutting him out.’

‘It sounds to me like a little circle of people—’

‘Of friends,’ said Julia. ‘Families have blood ties. We had … different loyalties. But we were all friends.’

‘OK. What happened that night at the clinic?’

‘The killer came back for Mary. No-one was in the building except me. I heard noises in one of the apartments, so I walked in. He swung
around and his gun went off. It was a reflex. He wasn’t aiming. He missed me. I was screaming, Mary was screaming. Stan came rushing in and … Stan shot him. It was self-defence. It all happened so fast.’

Joe’s face was impassive. Inside, he was raging. ‘What happened to Mary?’

‘It was all so confusing, the noise, the gunshots … she crawled past us and ran down the hallway. We were all in shock. She hid in one of the rooms. I ran after her.’

‘Where was Stan?’

‘He … wrapped the body in the sheets that were in the room, then in plastic and … buried him.’

Joe shook his head. ‘So that’s when Mary called us?’

Julia nodded. ‘I guess so. I told Stan to find her and take her away to the new clinic. She’d made it down to the supply room in the lobby. You probably ran past it on your way in …’

Danny let out a breath.

‘It was terrible,’ said Julia. ‘It nearly broke Stan’s heart having to take her away the way he did. He had to restrain her. Someone he cares about so much—’

‘You and Stan are going to have to come with us,’ said Joe. ‘And we need to see Mary.’

‘She’s just outside. Please, though, let me call Magda Oleszak and tell her. Maybe you can bring
Mary to her. I don’t want her having to come to the police station.’

‘OK,’ said Danny.

Mary was kneeling in front of the flower-beds, slamming her hands on top of them, weeping and crying out her brother’s name. Joe walked across the grass towards her and watched her destroy the freshly planted flowers, leaving orange and yellow petals strewn across the soil.

Joe hunkered down beside her. ‘Mary?’

She looked up at him, tears shining in her pale eyes.

‘Mary. Did you see something?’

Tears spilled down her cheeks. Joe laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

‘You’re not in any trouble, Mary.’

She shook her head. ‘I have to be.’

‘No,’ said Joe. ‘You don’t.’

She bowed her head and cried harder and harder.

Julia turned to Joe. ‘This clinic is my life. I just didn’t want it associated with any negative publicity. We’re just about to open this one. There’s a lot at stake. A lot of people’s lives depend on us. I am so terribly sorry for how this has ended. But it was for the best intentions.’ She paused. ‘Do you know what it’s like to want something at all costs?’

The sulphurous smell of death filled the crime scene tent that stood in the quietest corner of the grounds behind the Colt-Embry Homes. The flower-bed ran through the centre, its bright blooms in contrast to everything around it: the steady rainfall on the roof, the set faces of the detectives, the body under the surface.

A tall blond crime scene tech stood in front of Danny and Joe, squeezing the contents of a clear plastic bag to blend the powder and water inside it.

‘Dental stone,’ said Joe, shaking his head.

‘Makes sense,’ said Danny.

The technician crouched down by a boot print and released the liquid so it poured slowly around the ridges without disturbing the soil. He let it spill out over the top, then stepped back and sealed the bag. Three more technicians used small shovels and sifters to gradually expose the body, buried
just two feet under the surface.

One of them looked up. ‘So someone finished him off for you.’

Joe looked through him.

‘Least you got him,’ said the tech.

Joe shrugged. ‘You know what? I have a funeral to go to Saturday. The guy you’re digging up there killed one of my men. We did not get him … not the way we wanted.’

‘I was ready for a perp walk,’ said Danny. His tone was flat.

Joe stared at the leather cuff on Blake’s stone-white wrist, his hand half-pushing through the soil as if he was trying to reach out.

‘The beetle,’ said Joe. ‘I was right. He had all that leather in his house …’

‘Nice work, detective,’ said Danny.

‘Come on,’ said Joe. ‘Let’s go get some air.’

Shaun was sitting alone at the dinner table when Joe got back.

‘Where’s your mom?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I heard about Tara …’

Shaun nodded.

‘How are you doing?’

Shaun smiled at him. ‘Dad, it’s OK. You don’t have to talk to me about stupid stuff when, like, Old Nic’s son has died and you nearly got—’

‘How you are doing is what I’d like to know,’ said Joe, shrugging. He grabbed a plate and helped himself to spaghetti.

‘I’m OK,’ said Shaun.

‘Good,’ said Joe.

‘My heart will go on.’ He was smiling.

Joe laughed. ‘Look … about college …’

Shaun’s smile faded. ‘Yeah?’

‘Well …’

‘Look, I’m going to college, Dad, OK? I have another few months before my applications have to be in. I need to think about it.’

‘But you
are
going? That is what you want?’

Shaun rolled his eyes. ‘Of course it’s what I want. It’s just it was all too much trying to think about it. I mean, it’s deciding where I want to live for the next few years, what I want to do with my life. That’s big stuff.’

Joe breathed out. ‘Well, I’m glad.’

‘How are you?’ said Shaun.

Joe raised his eyebrows. ‘Me? I’m great.’

Shaun didn’t question him.

Joe’s cell phone rang – private number. He stood up and walked into the darkened living room.

Duke Rawlins’ voice was quiet menace: ‘The grave was a beautiful touch.’

‘Yeah? I thought you’d like it,’ said Joe.

‘You got your old friend to take a little trip here, didn’t you? I guess he did as you told him. Paid
some teenage dirtbag to dig right alongside Donnie. There’s not a whole hell of a lot of space there. Probably fit a small woman. Or a child.’

Joe said nothing.

‘He can’t be much of a friend if you sent him my way,’ said Duke.

Joe’s heart pounded as he thought of Patti Nicotero, already bereaved.

Rawlins’ voice was quieter when he spoke again. ‘I guess you knew it was the one place I’d come back to. You couldn’t stand not knowing where I was for all those months, what I was doing, who I was doing it with …’

Anna walked into the living room. Her eyes sparkled. Her hair was newly cut. It fell to her shoulders, dark and shiny, split at one side. He smiled at her. She held out her arms. Her white top rode up and he could see her tiny belly. He was hit with love, regret, fear, guilt, shame. She opened her mouth to speak. Joe held a finger to his lips, but kept smiling. And listening.

It’s a powerful thing to be up close, sucked into the dead space of a killer, having to touch him, observe him, get answers from him, invest in him. Most people saw Duke Rawlins only in a photograph in a newspaper, from a safe remove – where they couldn’t sense what was rotting from inside him. In the flesh, it seeped out every way it could – through the soulless eyes, through unbrushed teeth and unwashed skin. Joe had forced Anna to
cross that boundary unprepared. She was torn from the comfortable world Joe had helped create and plunged into Duke Rawlins’ twisted little universe. It felt like an illusion now, that Joe had sold her some bullshit dream he could never follow through on.

Joe looked at Anna and a shiver ran up his spine. Duke Rawlins had stalked her, held her, breathed on her, carried her, struck her, drawn a knife across her perfect skin …

Anna turned to leave and looked back at Joe over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up, her smile going right to his heart.

He hung up the phone.

One thing Rawlins hadn’t done: he hadn’t broken her.