Harry smiled.
'Black it is,' he said.
Maura had never paid a great deal ofattention to her looks. One ex-lover had said that was because she had neverhad to. Today, though, she took a bit more time than usual getting ready — alittle makeup, the enamel earrings Harry liked, and a cotton dress instead ofher trademark jeans.
She felt keyed up at the prospect of whatlay ahead — frightened that the session would be a bust, but almost equallyapprehensive about other possibilities. Over the two and a half years of herdownward spiral she had been a blackout drinker, with little regard for theplaces she went or the company she kept. Now she wondered just how selectivePavel Nemec could be in unlocking her memory. Most of what was hidden away inher subconscious might as well stay right where it was.
Nemec lived and worked at an address onthe Upper East Side. Before going there, she and Harry took a cab to hisoffice, stopping at her place to pick up an artist's sketch pad, some pencils,and some pastels, and at his bank to withdraw fifteen hundred dollars.
'I've canceled another half day at theoffice and gotten someone to make rounds on my patients in the hospital,' hetold her. 'Most of my practice is pretty loyal, I think. But I'm reallybeginning to put some of them to the test.'
She nodded sympathetically. 'This is theday,' she said. 'This is the day it all begins to turn around. Trust me. Hey,speaking of turning around, turn this way a bit. I want to try something.'
He did as she asked, and in less than twoblocks she had sketched a passable likeness of him. By the time they reachedthe office, the drawing was quite good.
'That's amazing,' he said.
'I can do better. But at least this tellsme I can do it at all. It's been a while. I actually once spent a summer inItaly doing sketches and caricatures for the tourists on the Piazza Navona.'
Walter Concepcion was already in thewaiting room, chatting with the woman behind the reception desk, whom Mauralearned was Mary Tobin. Maura was glad to see him again. Today he wore a blackT-shirt, and she noticed that his arms were sinewy and more muscular than shewould have expected. He had a tattoo over his left deltoid, artfully done, of askull with a serpent slithering out of one eye.
'They called from Dr. Erdman's office atthe hospital,' Mary said. 'The meeting is scheduled for ten tomorrow morning inthe conference room next to his office.'
Harry sighed.
'I guess you'll have to call my morningappointments and cancel them again.'
'I already did.'
'This is getting ridiculous. You know,maybe we should just close up shop for a while.'
The older woman's eyes flashed.
'You do,' she said, 'and I'm gonna find meone of those bamboo canes. You know, the ones that take flesh off with thesecond stroke. .'
'Okay, okay. We'll see what happenstomorrow.'
'Fine. I called your attorney to tell himthe time. He wants you to call him later today, but he said he'll be there.'
'At three hundred fifty an hour, whyshouldn't he be?'
'Pardon?'
'Nothing, Mary. Nothing. I'm just in myirritable idiot mode is all. It never lasts long.'
'Thank goodness,' she said.
Harry handed Concepcion the money in anenvelope. It was clear to Maura that Harry still had doubts about the man. Butshe had absolutely none. Walter had already given them a place to start — thefirst steps of a counterattack.
'Okay, we're in business,' Concepcionsaid, pocketing the envelope. 'And don't worry, Harry. Every dollar of thiswill be accounted for on paper — receipts and all. I actually think we got offto a running start last night. After I got home I called about forty escortservices. My line to them was that a woman named Desiree had given me the nightof my life when I was last in town six months ago. Unfortunately for me, afriend had made the arrangements, and I had no way of getting hold of him forthe name of the escort service. Money was no problem, but only if it was forDesiree. Three of the services made it sound as if they knew her. They saidthey'd try to get in touch with her and I should call back. A fourth one,Elegance, said she wasn't working for them anymore. That's the one I'm homingin on.'
'Why that one?' Maura asked.
'Because the woman I spoke to initiallygave me vague answers about Desiree. She took my number and said I'd be called.About an hour later, a different woman called. She said her name was Page. Ithink she runs the business. We played cat and mouse for a time. I mentionedmoney as often as I could. She denied knowing anyone named Desiree as often asshe could. Finally I told her that I knew Desiree was dead, and I just wantedsome information about her. I offered her five hundred dollars just to talkwith me in person for half an hour. Not one minute more. And she didn't have toanswer any questions about Desiree that she didn't want to. I was sure she wasgoing to say no. But when she said again that she didn't know Desiree, I knew Ihad her. We're meeting tomorrow morning.'
'That sounds promising,' Maura said.
'It sounds like we're about to be takenfor five hundred bucks,' Harry muttered.
'You just hang in there with me, boss,'Walter replied, the tic at the corner of his mouth firing off several times.'You don't seem to know it yet, but what you got here is the detective bargainof the century. Just keep in touch. Maybe we can get together tomorrow nightand compare notes. By the way, Maura, I'll check on an AA meeting for us to goto then if you still want to.'
'I'm ready.
'You have my number at home,' Harry said.'Call anytime if you learn something.' He hesitated and then added, 'Walter,I'm sorry to be giving you a hard time. I'll try not to.'
Concepcion pinched his own forearm.
'Hey, skin as thick as rhino hide, man,'he said. 'Besides, I haven't done anything yet except cost you money. When I doproduce, and I will, I expect you to get off my case.'
He shook hands with them both, waved toMary Tobin, and headed out.
'Come on,' Harry said. 'We can catch a cabon Fifth.'
'Okay,' Maura said, battling a sudden,inexplicable case of nerves, 'let's do it.' She started toward the door andthen turned back. 'Cross your fingers, Mary,' she said. 'We're off to see thewizard.'
The discreet brass placard above the bellread:
P. Nemec Behavior Modification
Pavel Nemec greeted them warmly and servedthem tea and cakes in the oak-paneled Victorian waiting room of his office. Heand Harry spent some time catching up on Nemec's family and on Harry's lifeover the years since they had last spoken. He was in his early sixties, Mauraguessed, graying and very slight, but fit. She found him charming andunpretentious.
Even so, the free-floating anxiety thathad begun to take hold of her in Harry's office intensified. Maura had tried sohard to reconnect with the face of the man in the white clinic coat. But theharder she tried, the flimsier the memories became. Now, she wondered whetherthe DTs, and the surgery, and the drugs had distorted reality so much for herthat the man, in fact, never did exist.
Her hands were shaking ever so slightly.She abandoned trying to hold her teacup and instead sat quietly as Harryexplained their situation. Nemec also listened intently. But midway throughHarry's account, he stood and began pacing slowly behind her chair, pausingtwice to rest his hands gently on her shoulders. Then suddenly he bent down,his lips close to her ear.
'There's nothing to be frightened about,Maurie,' he whispered. 'Nothing.'
Maura was startled. Maurie, notMaura. He had definitely said that. No one except her father had ever calledher Maurie. And then only until she was ten or so.
Harry stopped talking. Maura becameacutely aware of the traffic noises from the street. It was happening, sherealized. No couch, no watch-on-a-chain, no New Age music, no gimmicks at all.Pavel Nemec was at work — right here, right now.
He moved around to face her and placed hisfingertips on her temples. Her face had closed now, but her mind was racing.Images and faces cascaded through her thoughts like a video on rapid search.Faces from her childhood — teachers, playmates, Tom, Mother. . houses androoms, rural scenes and city streets. She connected easily with some of thepictures, not at all with others. . Then suddenly, one scene began repeatingitself over and over. It was her father, a drink sloshing in his hand, turningtowards her. His rheumy eyes were cold with contempt. His words were thick andslurred. Spittle sprayed from his mouth as he railed at her.