She gave him a look and sat down. “Do you know what you’re saying?”
“I know what it looks like, Carolyn.”
She turned to the window without responding.
“It was in the papers before the Lewis murder,” he said. “An overzealous prosecutor with political ambition screws up and needs a big case to get himself out of a deep hole. That’s the context. The specifics get better. The lead defense attorney is in a hospital bed and may not walk again. Details of the crime scene have been leaked to the papers killing the jury pool. Prison guards working the night shift are taunting the accused and trying to get him to talk.”
She was staring at him, her eyes burning in the dim light and measuring his anger. “The evidence against Holmes is overwhelming. What you’re implying is ridiculous. You’re spending too much time with Nash.”
She stood up and turned to the door, reaching for the handle. She’d written him off and was ready to leave. Teddy pushed the door closed and could feel her breath on his face.
“What about Rosemary Gibb?” he said.
“Refresh my memory.”
She didn’t know who Rosemary was. He tried to get a grip on himself.
“You said you spoke with Ferarro in missing persons,” he said. “There’s another girl and I can’t even get a look at the missing persons report.”
She flashed a reluctant smile, remembering. The kind of smile that said Rosemary hadn’t made the cut. Even worse, it seemed clear that she’d written off Teddy’s motives as some sort of cheap defense tactic. Teddy felt his pulse smack the ceiling and steadied himself against the door.
“You said at breakfast the other day that you regretted what happened between us,” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry we did it, too.”
She was staring at him. She was dressed in a turquoise suit that brought out the color of her eyes. Teddy ignored what he felt for her. He tried to, anyway, and moved on.
“You’re dangerous, Carolyn. You’re just like Andrews. Maybe you’re in it with him. Is that what happened? Were you keeping me busy that night? Did we get drunk and fuck so the hatchet man could get a clean shot at Barnett on his own?”
She seemed stunned. Her eyes suddenly looked glassy. What he was saying was outrageous, even vicious. Still, he needed to break the flow. One way or the other, he needed to change things.
“You really fooled me, you know it?” he said. “I thought it was more than that. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since it happened. But you’re playing on another level. You’re in another league. You and the city’s next mayor. You don’t give a fuck about anybody just as long as you chalk up another conviction. Another win for the record books. You want it so bad you’re blind to what’s really going on. You can play follow-the-leader all you want. But keep your guards away from my client. We’ll deal with the leak next time we’re before a judge.”
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t move. Teddy opened the door, leaving her in the empty press room where the lights were out.
FORTY
Her tits were too big.
Eddie checked his canvas, then peered back at Rosemary slumped in the chair before him in his basement studio. The light was right, the sun hitting the greenhouse and feeding the room with a soft, steady haze that glowed. It was her body that was wrong. She didn’t match the others. She seemed too voluptuous. Even with her eyes closed, she radiated too much beauty, too much life.
He looked back at her and wondered if she might not be moving. She’d been sleeping for the past three hours-in a stupor since they’d become friends and partied on the Love Drug.
Eddie moved in for a closer look. He couldn’t really tell. Maybe she was moving, but maybe she wasn’t. When his eyes fell across her naked body, his dick got hard again and he swore. It was a pitfall that went with the job. A wrong turn up a dead end alley if he wanted to become famous.
Work before pleasure. It’s a lost secret, son.
He stepped back behind the large canvas, deciding he wouldn’t look at her again for the rest of the day. Not until he could tell if she was moving or not. Not until he backed out of the wrong alley. He dabbed his brush in the paint, swirling it through a blend of deep reds. He’d spend the afternoon working on the background. The buildings and lights along the streets that were in his head.
The doorbell rang.
Eddie flinched, his brush driving across the canvas and ruining an entire section of the large work.
The bell rang again. His jaw muscles tightened as he heard it vibrate through the house. He wanted to scream. Instead, he wiped the brush stroke away with a rag and assessed the damage to his masterpiece. It would take him all night to fix. It might take him longer if Rosemary didn’t wake up and start cooperating.
Someone began pounding on the front door. Eddie threw the rag down.
“Sit still,” he ordered Rosemary.
Then he hurried up the steps, too upset to worry if the neighbors were eavesdropping on his mind or not. He entered the kitchen and saw a figure through the living room window. It was Mrs. Yap, staring back at him and beaming. Her needless visit had almost ruined his life’s work.
He tried to control his anger. Faking a lose smile, he crossed the room, switched the lock, and popped open the door.
“I was worried about you,” his landlady said. “I stopped by the other day, but you didn’t answer. May I come in?”
He nodded as if he had a choice, stepping aside as Mrs. Yap entered.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she went on. “I was afraid I might have to use my key or call the police. You don’t look so good.”
The chattering had started. Her peppy energy only seemed to turn his anger into rage. He followed her into the kitchen, watching her grab the teapot like she owned it and fill the vessel with tap water. As she rambled on, she noticed the curtains were drawn and pulled them open.
Eddie squinted as the light struck his face. He looked through the window at the house on the corner. There was a man on the roof, adjusting the fake satellite dish pointed at him. Their listening device was down, the monitor on their computer, blank. The watchers had no idea what he was thinking.
Eddie was free. At least for now he was.
He looked back at Mrs. Yap. She had the drawer open, admiring his Sterling silver flatware. She was dressed in bright colors-the mouth below her beaklike nose prattling in overdrive. Soon the babbling turned into chortling, the woman transforming into a bird before his eyes.
It wasn’t the drug after all, he thought. It was his vision. His strength.
He drew the curtain. When he saw the giant canary turn from the stove, he noticed he was trembling. Still, he moved toward the bird without hesitation. It was pecking at him with its beak, flailing its wings in the air. It seemed so close. So fucking real.
Eddie lunged at the animal, biting its beak off and spitting it on the floor.
The canary did a stutter step and looked overwhelmed and defenseless. Blood spewed all over its nape and chin, staining the brightly colored feathers on its chest. The bird’s eyes widened and the pecking stopped. It flapped its wings again. When the bird tried to fly away, Eddie grabbed a butcher’s knife off the counter and plunged it into the animal’s back. Over and over again until the pesky thing stopped jittering and collapsed onto the living room floor.
FORTY-ONE
Teddy ran up the stairs to Nash’s office, sensing something had happened. It felt like a cold draft, working its way inside him until it blew against his core.
When he entered the office, Nash wasn’t there. Instead, he found someone he didn’t know seated at the jury table with the murder book and a copy of their initial profile. The man looked at him and smiled. Teddy guessed he was about fifty. His light brown hair was streaked with gray, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement.