Driscoll leaned forward and held his head in his hand. He thought of the once-vibrant Colette, a wonderful and doting woman who would change heaven and earth for him.
An epiphany unfolded. It was a vision of Colette, his loving wife, who smiled and took hold of his hand. You poor soul, he heard her say. You poor troubled soul. It’s all right, my dear. I know you love me, and I know you always will. But, it’s time you moved on. Beyond my illness. Beyond your worries. It’s time for you, my darling, to live among the living.
He felt a rush, not unlike the surge of adrenaline he felt when he apprehended a criminal. Then a calmness settled over him. He had thought his guilt would cripple him, but it did not. Relief. That’s what he felt. He knew in his heart she understood.
Chapter 42
The five-year-old boy stuck his head out the Maxima’s rear passenger-side window. “Whirr! Whirr!” he intoned, mimicking the sound of the emergency vehicle sirens that could be heard in the distance.
The boy’s mother veered the sedan off onto East Fifty-seventh Street. She’d have to travel four blocks to Mill Avenue to avoid the traffic jam, but the detour would be worth it.
A beep erupted, startling her. “What was that? Robbie, did you unfasten your seat belt?”
“No, Mom.”
The boy stuck his hand in the pocket of his jacket and produced a telephone pager.
“Where’d that come from?” his mother asked, craning her neck.
“I found it.”
“You found it? Where?”
“At the mall. In the store with the candy.”
“Sweet Delights?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But that was last week.”
The boy shrugged.
A phone number showed on the device. She used her cell phone to punch in the number.
“Hello?” It was a male voice.
“Hi! Did you just beep someone?”
“Ah! I see you found my pager. I’ve been trying the number for days.”
“Well, my son found it.”
“Thank God! Where are you?”
“On the Belt Parkway. Why don’t you give me your address? I’d be happy to drop it in the mail.”
“Are you near Exit 10? We could meet at The Lobster Trap. It’s a great new eatery on Emmons Avenue. I can retrieve the pager and thank you personally.”
“That’s the sweetest offer I’ve had in weeks. But I really can’t. I teach violin, and my class is giving a recital on Sunday. I’ll be tied up with practice tonight, tomorrow, and into Sunday morning. I’m on my way now to drop my son off at his grandmother’s.”
“Oh, a single parent?”
“Well, yes.”
“That makes two of us. C’mon, let’s not snub fate.”
“This is starting to feel like a date.”
“No, just gratitude.”
“Well, I suppose it’d be all right. I’ll only have time for a cocktail, though. And I’ll have to drop Robbie off first.”
“OK. Let’s say we meet in an hour.”
“That’s sounds about right. How will I recognize you?”
“I’ll be the man with a red amaryllis next to his drink at the bar.”
Apprehension and a strange sense of curiosity flooded her. She hadn’t asked to meet this man, and yet they had a date. She turned to look at her son. The child was asleep. She breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t heard the longing in his mother’s voice.
Chapter 43
The drive to Sheepshead Bay was a sluggish one. There was construction on the Belt Parkway at Ocean Avenue. Workers in overalls and hard hats were plugging potholes that the snows of last winter had carved into the asphalt.
She veered the Maxima off at Knapp Street and, turning right, headed for Emmons Avenue. Pulling up in front of a parking meter, she turned off the engine. She could feel the hammering of her heart. Flipping down the visor, she checked her eye makeup and took a deep breath.
When she entered The Lobster Trap, she was struck by the din of a hundred conversations in progress. She was momentarily disoriented but recovered as her eyes searched the bar for the telltale flower. There was no amaryllis on the bar. Was she too early? The grandfather clock at the end of the bar said otherwise. Maybe she should go back to the car, wait fifteen or twenty minutes, and return to the bar appropriately late, or perhaps she should make herself comfortable and order a glass of Chablis. Could he have been detained? she wondered. Maybe that glass of wine would settle her nerves, after all. She stepped up to the bar and ordered her drink.
The bartender smiled as he poured the wine into a stemmed crystal glass. She felt as if her femininity were exposed to the world. She hadn’t been out to meet a man in eight years.
She glanced at her watch. What was keeping him? As she watched the second hand sweep past the twelve on the face of her Timex, a thought occurred. How much time was left on that meter? She believed there was a two-hour limit. Or was it one?
With purse in hand, she headed for the revolving door. As soon as she stepped out onto the street, she spotted him. He was standing there, facing the restaurant, a strikingly dressed man holding an amaryllis.
“Hello,” she said as her heart raced.
Chapter 44
She stared at him, shock and bewilderment still ablaze in her eyes. The rope singed swollen flesh at her wrists and ankles, worsened by her futile attempts to loosen the restraints that held fast to the wooden chair.
Colm heard her mutter something through the plumbing tape. It was unintelligible, but her eyes flashed a threat. How audacious some of them remained, even at the end, he thought.
“You would have been a gracious dinner guest,” he said. “Unfortunately, given the circumstances, I thought it best to wait outside. It wouldn’t have been wise to have us seen together, now, would it?”
Vengeful eyes stared back at him.
“I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d come out. Thank goodness you were alone. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if you had brought company.” He pulled up a chair and took a seat across from her. “I hadn’t planned this ending, you know. I kept thinking it might be OK to simply recover the beeper and be done with it. I even considered the thought of actually keeping my promise and sharing a meal with you. But my resolve dissipated and a more familiar yearning kicked in…pure rapture. You’re sure to rival some of my most cherished trophies.”
Realization settled, in her dilated pupils as she watched him nonchalantly reach for the blade.
Chapter 45
“OK, here’s what we’ve got,” said Margaret, her voice strong, her eyes focused on Driscoll’s, giving the Lieutenant the sense that she was OK with how things were. “Deirdre McCabe was hooked up at America Online. We got zip on Monique Beauford, our drifter. And the tea heiress, well, we’re not sure what she used, although the whiz kid claims she had an account with Juno. The folks over at Juno list an A. Stockard on their books. But, their Internet service is free, so-”
“So they have nothing more than an A. Stockard. No billing address. No phone number.”
“You got it.”
“Juno. Netscape. I tell you, it’s all Greek to me. Moira even thinks in another language.”
“You’ve gotta realize that these kids are miles ahead on the information superhighway.”
What was Margaret up to? Driscoll wondered. She sounded like she had become a fan of the technogeek. She’s just being contrary, he surmised.
“The Internet is the tool of tomorrow,” Margaret continued.
“And possibly a killing field today.”
“I’ve been doing a little research. Thought I’d sharpen my skills.”
“And what did you discover?”
“Did you know that the Internet got its start as a project of the Defense Department? They had urged certain universities to link their computers in the name of scientific exploration. The idea caught on, and before anyone realized it, everybody, scholar, peddler and soothsayer alike, was linked. They’re predicting 400 million cybersites by the next millennium.”