He cut off abruptly and blinked at me. “How is it that I can remember some things so clearly and not others?”
Rojas shifted his position again, lips thinned against the pain. They had realigned and plastered the compound fractures of his arm so that only the tips of his fingers protruded from the cast, yellow with iodine. He was still getting used to the weight of it and he moved awkward and slow.
“You’ve suffered a serious head injury,” I said. “It’s bound to have affected you more than you realise.”
“You mentioned the couple who were found nearby. Did she…?” He looked on the verge of weeping. “Was the lady wearing a ring as I describe? If so, I may be able to help you identify her.”
I had a brief recall of the way the body bag behaved when we had loaded it into the Bell. I had no idea what state the woman’s face might have been in.
“It’s possible you may not be able to visually identify her,” I warned.
“Ah. Then I could at least identify the ring perhaps?” he said. “If I can help, I want to do so.”
“I’ll ask,” I said.
He met my gaze with very dark liquid eyes and smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “It feels important that I do this. I need to know.”
A harried nurse appeared in the doorway and told me my time was up.
“If you have more questions, you will have to come back tomorrow,” she said, “when he has rested.”
I rose, pushed my chair to the side of the room.
“Is there anyone you would like me to contact for you, Mr Rojas?” I asked, looking back as I reached the doorway. “Your wife or family?”
“I am not married,” he said automatically and then gave a quick smile. “At least, I do not believe so.” His expression became stricken. “Do you think it is possible that I might have forgotten a wife? Children even?”
I thought of Sean, of what he’d remembered — and what he’d forgotten.
“Yes,” I said gently. “I’m afraid that is possible.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I calculated the time difference and called Parker Armstrong back in New York.
It was late afternoon there. The weather before I left had been edging into a late autumn, the leaves falling in copper swathes to coat the grassy expanse of Central Park. The weather swung between being not quite cold enough for winter coats, but too chilled for summer wear. The streets and subway trains were filled with people who sweated or shivered accordingly.
Here it was hot with a humid overtone that made the day seem sullen. I stood by an open window while I made my call, but all that seemed to do was blow hot air into my face.
“Charlie!” Parker greeted me, as if hearing from me was the highlight of his day. I sincerely hoped that was not the case. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” I paused. “Any word?”
“From Sean? No, I’m sorry,” he said, at once more subdued. “Is that why you…?”
“No,” I said. “I need you to check something out for me. Or I should say someone.”
“OK. Shoot.”
“There’s a young girl here as part of the R&R team. A Brit — Hope Tyler — she’s a dog handler. Search, rescue and recovery.”
“Rescue and recovery?” Parker queried. “Unusual. In my experience they typically have specialised teams for search and rescue and then bring in the cadaver dogs when they’re pretty sure there’s nobody left to rescue.”
I shrugged. “Well, Lemon seems to do just about everything bar tap dance and make the tea. And come to think of it I wouldn’t put either of those things past her.”
“Lemon?”
“Hope’s dog. A rather beautiful yellow Labrador retriever.”
“I have a great deal of respect for working dogs of any kind,” Parker said with the fervour of an ex-military man himself. “But you think this Hope — and Lemon — may be involved in what happened to Stephens?”
“Possibly not,” I said. “But like I said, she’s young — and she’s scared of something. She went very cagey as soon as I brought up Stephens’ name.”
“When you say ‘young’, how young?”
“Twenty apparently, but she seems a very young twenty,” I said. “I don’t ever remember being that young.”
At Hope’s age I’d been in and out of the army, lived through humiliation and disgrace and was halfway out the other side. I’d been beaten down to my knees and refused to be beaten further.
“So you don’t have her tagged as a potential suspect?”
“I wouldn’t rule out anything at this stage, but if she is caught up in this I’d say she was labour rather than management.”
“Oh?”
There was a wealth of quick understanding in the single-word question. Another of the reasons I enjoyed working with Parker so much.
“The rumours Mrs Hamilton heard related to thefts,” I said. “And whatever else Hope may be, from what I saw of her today she’s also a very talented fingersmith.”
“A what?”
“A pickpocket. She liberated a wallet from the local police commander in front of all his men and none of them saw a thing, although she had the dog deliberately running interference, which helped. They’re quite a team — in more ways than the expected.”
“If she’s stealing from the cops, that kinda confirms the rumours, don’t you think?”
“Hmm,” I said, still undecided. “The wallet she liberated wasn’t the good commander’s to start with, and she took it in order to put it back where it belonged. Not the behaviour of your average thief.”
“Sounds intriguing. I’ll have Bill do some deep background and I’ll get back to you soon as I can.”
“There’s one more thing about her,” I said and hesitated. “It’s only an impression and I could be wrong but—”
“I trust your instincts, Charlie,” Parker said. “So should you.”
“Thank you,” I said. I took in a long warm lungful of air, let it curl out again. “She shows signs of having been through some kind of sexual assault. Could be in her distant past for all I know, but it still resonates. As soon as a male stranger gets too close she locks up and Lemon goes crazy.”
Parker, to his credit, didn’t ask if I was sure, but his tone was grave. “OK Charlie, leave it with me. I’ll see that Bill makes it a priority to find out what we can about this girl.”
“I suspect she might have been through the system,” I said. “After all, she didn’t acquire those sleight-of-hand skills overnight. Not without a few false starts that probably got her nicked for it once or twice. She said she had to work hard to persuade Joe Marcus to take her on. Wonder what kind of a job interview that was.”
“Good call. Anyone catch your eye apart from Hope?”
I gave a short laugh. “She’s about the only one of them who isn’t capable of murder, to my mind, although the way Lemon reacted earlier when she thought the girl was under threat makes me wonder if Hope needs to be capable herself. I wouldn’t put anything past the others, though. I suspect they’ve already had one pretty good go at getting shut of me.”
I heard Parker’s indrawn breath, his muttered, “Let’s hear it, Charlie.”
So I told him all about the rescue on the fallen section of roadway, the precise jink of the Bell at exactly the right moment to throw me off balance, and how close I’d been to falling. And the reactions of Dr Bertrand and Joe Marcus afterwards.
“I guess if I said I wanted you on the next flight out it wouldn’t do me any good, would it?” Parker asked. “Your job is to protect them from threat, not become a human target.”