You 're worthless, Maurie. .hopeless and worthless. .
You can't do a damn thing rightexcept give me headaches. Just like your mother. .
Except for marrying her, you'reabout the worst mistake I've ever made. . In fact, if it weren't for you,I'd never have had to marry her in the first place. .
'Easy, Maurie,' Nemec said with gentlefirmness. 'He will never, ever speak to you like that again. . He was sick.That's all … You never deserved to be spoken to like that. He just couldn'thelp it.' Nemec cupped his calming hands behind her ears. 'You did your best toplease him. . He hated himself too much to show love for anyone. . Henever thought about what he was doing to you. . You can let it go now, Maura. . You can let it go forever …'
The swirling images began to recede. Mauraknew her eyes were closed, but she could see the mystic in his gray cardigan,pacing in front of her. Her apprehension was gone now — the shroud ofself-loathing that had blanketed her life for so long had lifted, leaving herwith an incredible sense of peace. All those times her father had crushed herpride, belittled her. Even news of his death couldn't kill the terrible seedshe had sown. Throughout her life, each time success was in her grasp, herpathological self-doubt would lead her to find some way to sabotage and destroyit.
Worthless. . How old could she have beenwhen he began calling her that — seven? Eight?
Now, finally, she knew that it had neverbeen her. Not once. She never deserved what Arthur Hughes had done to her. And,like Pavel said, he could never hurt her again.
Her eyes still closed, she saw Nemec moveto the table and retrieve her sketch pad and charcoal. Then she felt him set iton her lap.
We have work to do. She heard his voice, but knewhe had not spoken. You're free now, Maura — free to see what needs to be seen. .
Harry would later tell her that she hadnever opened her eyes until the detailed sketch was complete. He would describethe eerie way the charcoal in her hand darted over the paper, the disjointedbut absolutely unified process by which the man's face took shape. He wouldtell her about the moment, as she was still shading and shadowing him with hercharcoal stick and finger, when he recognized him.
Maura stretched her arms and worked herneck around. She felt relaxed and refreshed, as if she had just stepped from awarm spa. She knew that she had produced a drawing of the man who had murderedEvie DellaRosa. She also knew that Pavel Nemec had helped her in ways notherapist or counselor ever had. There were flaws in her perception of herself- gaping flaws for which she had never been responsible, flaws that keptdriving her self-destructive behavior, flaws that made her time and again breakthe promises she made to herself.
No more. . Not one more drop. .
She opened her eyes and looked down at therendering. Then she drew in the man's clip-on tie and shaded it green with goldaccents. Pavel Nemec was back in his chair, casually sipping tea.
'How'd you do that?' she asked.
He smiled at her kindly and shrugged.
'My encounters with clients are not alwaysthis successful. Some days it is like walking through a dense fog for me. Somedays, like today, I can see with incredible clarity. I believe you've beenwaiting for me for some time, Maura. Possibly years.'
'You did something about my drinking,didn't you?'
'No, but you did. And most forcefully, Imight add.'
She held up the drawing for Harry. Tearsglistened in her eyes.
'I did it,' she said.
'I guess you did. It's amazinglyaccurate.'
'How do you know?'
'Because I saw him. The exact man youdrew. He was right outside your room the whole time I was there, just waitingfor the chance to finish what he had started when he ordered Evie's IV.'
'Outside the room?'
'Buffing the floors, listening to aWalkman — the sort of person you look at over and over without actually seeinghim. The nurses never saw him come on the floor after I left because he didn't.He was already there. He left before I returned.'
'Are you sure?' Maura asked.
Harry studied the drawing for just a fewseconds.
'I've never been more certain of anythingin my life,' he said. 'You two make a hell of a team.'
Maura crossed to the unassuming little manand kissed him on the cheek.
'You don't know the half of it,' she said.
Chapter25
The day was New York City hot. By latemorning, waves of steaming air were rising off the pavement and children wereopening hydrants. Kevin Loomis left his air-conditioned midtown office atten-thirty for a circuitous trip to Battery Park, a waterfront oasis on thesouthernmost tip of the island at the convergence of the Hudson and EastRivers. In response to James Stallings's warning against being followed, he hadcarefully planned every step of the journey.
Earlier that morning, Kevin had endured aforty-five minute meeting of Burt Dreiser's eight-member executive planningstaff. And although nothing unusual happened during the session, he feltconstantly conspicuous and read double meanings into almost everything Dreisersaid or did. By the time he checked out with Brenda Wallace and left for whathe said was a long-scheduled meeting and lunch, he was perspiring for reasonsthat had nothing to do with the weather.
Evelyn DellaRosa had been murdered, andJames Stallings, the other knight who had been with her, was terrified.
I wasn't sure if you were oneof them or not. . What in the hell had Stallings meant by that?
Loomis crossed the street against thelight, dodging a succession of infuriated cabbies. He then entered a small customhaberdashery. There were seldom more than one or two customers in the shop at atime, and at this moment, only the proprietor was there. Since joining TheRoundtable, Kevin had become a regular in the place. The fitting area was inback, next to an alley door. Kevin ordered a $150 shirt, allowed himself to bemeasured, and then made an excuse for leaving through the rear exit. Next hetook a cab ride to the East Side and walked several blocks to an IRT station,ducking frequently into doorways to check the street behind him. The BatteryPark stop was at the end of the line. He arrived there with ten minutes tospare.
Still anxious about the possibility ofbeing followed or watched, he strolled casually past a tarmac playground,pausing for a minute against the high, chain-link fence. There were twenty orso children on the swings, climbing bars, riding seesaws, laughing andshrieking with delight. Kevin thought about his own kids and about the lifethey were about to enter — a fabulous home with a bedroom for each of them andland enough for a huge swing set and possibly even a pool someday, a cleansuburban community with top-notch schools, and a limitless future.
Sunlight glared off the water. To thesouth, the Statue of Liberty stood tall against the sweltering heat. Kevinglanced about again and headed north on to the grassy mall. It was exactlynoon. Carrying his suit coat now, he passed half a dozen benches, each oneoccupied. Office workers eating take-out lunches; a bag lady asleep on anewspaper pillow; two young mothers lolling their sleeping infants instrollers; teen lovers nestled together, oblivious to all but one another. Sonormal.