“Is the doctor in?” I said, interrupting her.
“He’s seeing a patient now. But if you wait-”
“We’ll just pay a quick visit,” I said, heading toward the door. “I know the way.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Carl, that’s not allowed. You can’t go back-”
“It’s all right, Deirdre,” said Torricelli, flashing his badge. “Official business.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. Just make sure nobody leaves, please.”
I opened the door to the hallway, expecting to see Tilda barring my entrance, but no Tilda, no bar. I could hear the whir of a drill in one of the examination rooms. The sound produced an involuntary shudder.
“Let’s go,” I said as Torricelli and I headed straight for the drilling.
The patient lay on the orange chair, wingtips shaking, his mouth agape, suction in place, as Dr. Bob, his back to us, mask on, cap on, rubber gloves tight, plied his barbarous trade.
“Robert Pfeffer,” said Torricelli, “I have a warrant for your arrest on the charge of kidnapping.”
The dentist extracted his hands from the patient’s mouth, turned to stare at the two of us. The patient lifted his head and stared, too, suction still in place, mouth still agape.
“I tried to stop them, Doctor,” said Deirdre, rushing in behind us, “but they just barged in.”
“What’s the meaning of this?” said the dentist. I noticed that his voice had deepened and he had changed the style of his glasses. “I’m in the middle of a procedure.”
He pulled down his mask, showing off a bushy black mustache. Not Dr. Bob, not Dr. Bob at all.
“Uh-oh,” said Torricelli. “Sorry about that. We’re looking for Dr. Robert Pfeffer, also known as Robert Pepper. Do you know where he is?”
“I can’t help you,” said the other dentist.
“Where’d he go?” I said.
“I don’t know,” said the dentist. “I’m Dr. Domsky. This is my office now. Pfeffer sold me his practice.”
“When?”
“Yesterday. I had been trying to buy his practice for quite some time, and suddenly he agreed on the condition I take over right away. I haven’t had time to change the sign.”
“How’d you pay?”
“He insisted on a cashier’s check.”
“I bet he did.” I turned to Deirdre. “Where is he?”
“He didn’t tell me anything,” she said. “But he gave me a very nice bonus.”
“No hint?” said Torricelli. “No nothing?”
“No, sir,” said Deirdre. “But he did leave something specifically for you, Mr. Carl. That’s what I was trying to tell you.”
“He’s gone,” I said.
“Seems so,” said Torricelli. “I wasn’t sure I believed your cock-and-bull story, but it looks like there might be something to it. I’ll tell Mia Dalton the news and put out an APB.”
“You won’t find him,” I said.
“No, I don’t think we will.”
The patient still on the chair said, “Ahweehahooih?”
“Of course,” said Dr. Domsky. “If you don’t mind, gentlemen.”
“No, that’s fine,” said Torricelli, reaching into his pocket. “Here’s my card. If you hear from him, give me a call. Sorry to disturb you.”
Dr. Domsky looked at the card appraisingly. “Torricelli, huh? And you’re Carl. I seem to recognize those names. You don’t happen to be patients of this office, do you?”
I looked at Torricelli, who looked back at me and shrugged.
“As a matter of fact,” I said.
“I would really appreciate if you gave me a chance to keep your business.”
“Dr. Domsky is a wonderful dentist,” said Deirdre. “He has such gentle hands.”
“Oh, I bet he does,” I said.
Back at the desk, while I was waiting for Deirdre to retrieve whatever it was Dr. Bob had left for me, I noticed that the smile hall of fame had been taken down off the wall. It would be up somewhere else soon enough, I was sure, and I had a decent idea of where.
“Here you go, Mr. Carl,” said Deirdre.
It was a manila envelope with my name on it, holding something small and rectangular. I ripped it open, slid the object into my palm. My tape recorder. I pressed play, and out came Whit’s voice: “…went through her neck. He said it was a nightmare of blood. He ran away and called Dr. Pfeffer, who said he’d take care of it, and he-” I clicked it off.
“What’s that?” said Torricelli.
“A parting gift, I suppose,” I said.
I hefted the tape recorder in my hand even as I rubbed my tongue across the inside of my new false tooth. Whatever righteous anger I held toward Dr. Bob seemed to bleed out of me just then, replaced by a perverse gratitude. Maybe it was because of my perfectly fitting bridge. There is something about a medical professional competently healing your maladies that leaves you in his thrall. But there was something else, too. In our own bizarre way, we had battled like two heavyweights, subject to some strange set of rules I had never figured out. Neither of us had won decisively, we had fought to a draw, but that suited me just fine. And by his leaving me the tape recorder, he was giving me a tip of the hat before he moved on toward another prizefight in another town.
“What are you going to do now?” said Torricelli.
“First I think I’ll go over the calendar with Deirdre and schedule a cleaning and checkup for about three months from now. You can never be too careful with your teeth. And then tomorrow I’m going to march into court and win my case.”
And that’s just what I did.
78
One final act of surveillance.
It wasn’t such a tricky piece, this one. There was a sea of cars parked in a wide parking lot. I slipped my car between an Explorer and a red Dodge pickup and set it so I had a perfect view of the big gray door. Then it was just a matter of waiting. But no coffee needed this time, I had company to keep me awake.
“What are we doing here, exactly?” said Beth.
“Surveilling.”
“Why?”
“Well, I can really use the practice. And I also want to know who he called to meet him on his first minute out.”
“He told me he was meeting up with his daughter.”
“That would be nice. But let’s wait and see.”
“I’m just relieved that the whole thing is over.”
“You know who seemed really relieved?”
“Who?”
“Mia Dalton. When Torricelli told her everything about Dr. Bob in the courtroom, you could see her jaw muscles twitch. I think she would have dismissed the case right there, except for what it would have done politically to her boss. I never saw a prosecutor let out such a breath of gratitude at a not-guilty verdict.”
“She offered me the job again.”
“She’s relentless.”
“I told her it doesn’t pay enough.”
“It pays more than you’re getting with me.”
“But the benefits, Victor, the benefits.”
“They get dental over there.”
“Reason enough to stay put.”
It was a hot, sunny day. Our windows were open, but still it was warm in the car. I took off my jacket. I took off my tie. If it had been seemly, I would have taken off my pants, too.
“I’m sorry,” said Beth.
“Okay,” I said.
“I never got a chance to apologize, and I wanted to.”
“I accept.”
“You don’t even know what I’m apologizing for.”
“It doesn’t matter. Whatever you want to apologize for, I’ll take it. It doesn’t happen so often.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay.”
“For being so unprofessional.”
“That’s what you’re apologizing for?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on, Beth, you can do better than that. Being unprofessional is what we do. Derringer and Carl, the unprofessional professionals. In fact, we should copyright that before the CIA steals it. If we had to go around in these stinking suits acting like professionals all the time, what would be the point? I’d quit the business.”