"Tomorrow morning, Marino and I are flying home."
"Please sit down."
"So you know Diane Bray? Is this her grand finale? To get me thrown into a French prison?" I went on.
"Please sit," he said.
Reluctantly, I did.
"If you do something Dr. Stvan asks and should get caught, we'll intercede;' he said. "Just as we did with what I was sure Marino would have packed in his suitcase."
"I'm supposed to believe that?" I asked, incredulous. "French police with their machine guns snatch me in the airport and I say,.It's all right. I'm on a secret mission for Interpol?"
"All we're doing is getting you and Dr. Stvan together."
"Bullshit. I know exactly what you're doing. And if I get in trouble, you guys will be like every other agency in the goddamn world. You'll say you don't even know me."
"I would never say that."
He held my gaze, and the room was so hot I needed fresh sir.
"Kay, we would never say that. Senator lord would never say that. Please, trust me."
"Well, I don't"
"When would you like to return to Paris?"
I had to stop to think. He had me so befuddled and furious.
"You're scheduled on the late afternoon train," he reminded me. "But if you'd like to stay for the night, I know of a wonderful little hotel on the rue du Boeuf. It's called La Tour Rose. You'd love it."
"No, thank you," I said.
He sighed, getting up from the table and collecting both our trays.
"Where's Marino?" It occurred to me that.he had been gone for a long time.
"I was beginning to wonder that myself," Talley said as we walked through the cafeteria. "I don't think he likes me very much:' "That's the most brilliant deduction you've made all day," I said.
"I don't think he likes it when another man pays attention to you." - I didn't know how to answer that.
He slid the trays into a rack.
"Will you make the phone call?" Talley was relentless. "Please?"
He stood perfectly still in the middle of the cafeteria and touched my shoulder, almost boyishly, as he asked me again.
"I hope Dr. Stvan still speaks English," I said.
35
When I got Dr. Stvan on the phone, she remembered me without hesitation, which reinforced what Talley had told me. She was expecting my call and wanted to see me.
"I teach at the university tomorrow afternoon," she told me in English that sounded as if it had not been practiced in a while. "But you can come by in the morning. I get in at eight."
"Will eight-fifteen give you enough time to get settled?"
"Of course. Is there something I can help you with while you're in Paris?" she asked in a tone that made me suspect others could hear.
"I'm interested in how your medical examiner system works in France." I followed her cue.
"Not very well some of the time," she replied. "We're near the Gare de Lyon, off the Quai de la Rapйe. If you drive yourself, you can park in back where the bodies are received. Otherwise, come in to the front."
Talley looked up from telephone messages he was sifting through.
"Thanks," he said when I hung up.
"Where do you suppose Marino has wandered off to?" I asked.
I was getting anxious. I didn't trust Marino on his own. No doubt he was offending someone.
"There are but so many places he can go," Talley replied.
We found him downstairs in the lobby, sitting glumly by a potted palm. It seemed he had wandered through too many doors and had locked himself out of every floor. So he had taken the elevator down and hadn't bothered to ask for assistance from security.
I hadn't seen him this petulant in a while, and he was so surly on our way back to Paris that I finally moved to another seat and turned my back to him. I closed my eyes and dozed. I wandered to the dining car and bought a Pepsi without asking him if he wanted one. I bought my own pack of cigarettes and offered him nothing.
When we walked into the lobby of our hotel, I finally broke down.
"How about I buy you a drink?" I said.
"I gotta go to my room."
"What's wrong with you?"
"Maybe I should ask you that," he retorted.
"Marino, I don't have any idea what you're talking about. Let's relax in the bar for a minute and figure out what to do next about this mess we've gotten ourselves into."
"Only thing I'm doing next is going to my room. And it ain't me who's gotten us into a mess."
I let him step inside the elevator alone and watched his stubborn face disappear behind closing brass doors. I climbed the long, curved flights of carpeted stairs and was reminded how bad smoking was for my health. I unlocked my door and was not prepared for what I saw. Cold fear seized me as I walked over to the fax machine and stared at what the. chief medical examiner of Philadelphia, Dr. Harston, had sent. I sat down on the bed, paralyzed.
The lights of the city were bright, the sign for the Grand Marnier distillery was huge and high, and the Cafй de la Paix was busy below. I collected the paper off the fax machine, my hands shaking, my nerves jumping as if I had some awful disease. I got three Scotches from the minibar and poured all of them at once. I didn't bother to get ice. I didn't care if I felt like hell the next day because I knew I was going to anyway. There was a cover sheet from Dr. Harston.
Kay I was wondering when you'd ask. Knew you would when you were ready. Let me know if you have further questions. I'm here for you.
Vance.
Time numbly passed, as if I were catatonic, as I read the medical examiner's report of initial investigation, the description of Benton's body, what was left of it, in situ, in the gutted building where he died: Phrases floated past my eyes like ashes on the air. Charred body with bum fractures of the wrists and hands absent and skull shows laminar peeling burn fractures and charred down to muscle over the chest and abdomen.
The entrance of the gunshot wound to his head had left a half-inch hole in the skull that showed internal beveling of the bony fracture. It had entered behind the right ear causing radial fractures and impacting and terminating in the right petrous region.
He had a slight diastema between the maxillary centrals. I had always loved that subtle space between his front teeth. It made his smile more endearing because he was so precise in every other way, his teeth otherwise perfect because his perfect, proper New England family had made sure he wore braces. … Suntan pattern of swimming trunks. lie had left for Hilton Head without me because I was called to a scene. If only I'd said no and gone with him. If only I'd refused to work the first in what would prove to be a series of horrendous crimes that would eventually claim him as the final victim.
None of what I was looking at was manufactured. It couldn't be. Only Benton and I knew about the two-inch linear scar on his left knee. He had cut himself on glass in Black Mountain, North Carolina, where we had first made love. That scar had always seemed a stigma of adulterous love. How odd it was spared because soggy insulation from the roof had fallen on it.
That scar had always seemed a reminder of a sin. And now it seemed to turn his death into a punishment that culminated in my envisioning everything the reports described because I had seen it all before, and those images knocked me to the floor, where I sat crying and mumbling his name.
I did not hear the knocking of the door until it turned to pounding.
"Who is it?" I called out in a husky, ruined voice.
"What's wrong with you?" Marino said loudly through the door.
I weakly got up and almost lost my balance as I let him in.
"I been knocking for five minutes…" he started to say. "Jesus-fucking-Christ. What the hell's the matter?"
I turned my'back to him and walked over to the window.