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“Those crank phone calls I got this morning? The ones I was so evasive about? They weren’t just a prank. They were real.”

Lisa’s brow furrowed. “From Vincent? The Vincent?”

Tolan nodded. “He says he didn’t kill Abby. And he thinks I did. Thinks I’m some kind of psychotic plagiarist.”

“And you told this to the police.”

Tolan nodded.

“Which explains why they were all over the hospital this morning.”

“Right,” Tolan said. “But now Vincent is looking for revenge. First he kills some guy on The Avenue, now this.”

Lisa’s frown momentarily deepened, then her face went blank. “Help me roll her up.”

Tolan looked down at Sue Carmody’s body again, his instinct for survival overruling any hesitation he felt.

“God forgive us.”

“God gave up on us a long time ago,” Lisa said.

Then the doorbell rang.

44

The moment Soren lit up, Blackburn wished he had a cigarette of his own. But he’d never made it through an entire day without succumbing to temptation and was determined to make this one an exception.

So rather than bum a smoke, he said, “I think you know a friend of mine.”

“Oh?”

“Michael Tolan. We’ve worked together on a couple cases. He used to be your partner, right?”

“Yes,” Soren said, exhaling a plume of smoke. Then the alarm returned to his face. “This isn’t about Michael, is it? The dead patient?”

The question surprised Blackburn. “Is Tolan a patient too?”

Soren shook his head, looking a bit befuddled. “No — I mean, that’s privileged. He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“As far as I know, he’s fine.”

“Then who are we talking about?”

“A guy by the name of Hastert,” Blackburn said. “Todd Hastert.”

Soren took a moment to search the memory banks, but seemed to draw a blank.

“You prescribed Paxil to him a little over a year ago. He filled it at the County General Pharmacy, so I’m assuming he might’ve been a pro bono patient.”

Still no sign of recognition. And it seemed unforced. Genuine. “And he’s dead?”

“I’m afraid so. Somebody carved him up pretty good last night.” Blackburn reached into his coat pocket and brought out Hastert’s mug shot. “Maybe this will refresh your memory.”

Soren took a long drag off his cigarette and squinted at the photo. Nodding now, he exhaled and said, “Right. I saw him a few times at the hospital clinic. But that’s about all I’m willing to say.”

“The man was murdered, Doc.”

“That doesn’t change the law. Or my duty to my patients.”

“Did he ever express any concerns to you? That someone might be threatening him?”

“I haven’t seen him in over a year. So I highly doubt anything he may have said would have much bearing on the here and now.”

“What about Dr. Tolan? Did he ever treat the patient?”

Soren was about to put the cigarette between his lips again, when he paused. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“I would, if I could find him.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s MIA,” Blackburn said. “And I have reason to believe he may be in danger.”

This wasn’t strictly a lie, of course. Tolan was certainly in danger of being arrested. But Soren didn’t need to know that.

“Danger? What kind of danger? Does this have something to do with Hastert?”

“I’m afraid it does,” Blackburn said. “I think there may be a connection between the two, but I’m not sure what it is, at this point. Which is why I asked if Tolan ever treated him.”

Soren thought about this a moment, the new information seeming to compound both his alarm and his befuddlement. “As far as I can remember, Michael never even met the man. He didn’t do much pro bono work. Didn’t have time.”

This wasn’t what Blackburn wanted to hear. “So you don’t know of any threats Hastert may have made against him?”

“No,” Soren said. “None whatsoever.”

“What about the other way around?”

“What?”

“You were his partner, I assume you knew his wife?”

“Yes, of course. But what—”

“How would you characterize their relationship?”

“They were in love,” Soren said. “Probably more than any two people I’ve ever known. They had their share of problems, but—”

“What kind of problems?”

“They fought sometimes, just like anyone else.”

“So is Tolan capable of violence?”

Soren said nothing for a moment, his inebriated brain trying to process the turn in the conversation about four questions too late. “What’s going on here, Officer? Is Michael in danger — or is he in trouble?”

Blackburn shrugged. “Six of one, half a dozen the other.”

Soren’s face hardened. “You fucking asshole.”

“Just doing my job, Doc.”

“You think Michael killed Hastert? Is that what this is all about?”

“Among other things.”

Soren shook his head. “That’s completely preposterous. I’ve known him for years and I’ve never seen him lift a finger against anyone. He doesn’t have it in him.”

“What about his wife? You said they fought.”

“Yes, but…” Soren paused, starting to put it together now. “Jesus Christ,” he said. “This isn’t about Hastert at all. It’s about Abby. You think Michael killed Abby.”

“I’m more interested in what you think. Is it possible Tolan was having an affair? Screwing around on her?”

Soren flicked the cigarette at him. “Fuck you.”

“You don’t want to be assaulting a police officer, Doc.”

“So arrest me.”

“If it comes to that, trust me, I will. But I’d rather hear what you have to say about Tolan. What are you treating him for?”

Soren turned. “This conversation is over.”

Blackburn grabbed his arm. “Did he ever confess to you, Doc?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Let go of me.”

But Blackburn didn’t let go. “What about Todd Hastert? Did he ever brag about his job? Maybe mention something about the Vincent murders? Pass along a little inside information that you turned around and gave to Tolan?”

“I said let go of me.” Soren wrenched his arm free. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. If Hastert was guarding some kind of state secret, then I suggest you go to County General and start slinging your accusations there. That’s where he spent most of his time.” He paused. “As for Michael, there’s nothing you could ever say to convince me he hurt Abby. Not one thing. So do me a favor and fuck off.”

Soren turned again and headed back inside.

This time Blackburn let him go.

45

Kat Pendergast waited what seemed an eternity before the door opened.

She wasn’t quite sure why they were here. After an extended shift this morning, and all the drama on the fourth floor, she had gone home and crawled into bed without even bothering to shower. She’d gone straight to sleep and stayed that way until her alarm clock kicked her awake again.

She was halfway through dinner when her phone rang, the watch commander telling her he was short-handed and needed her and Hogan to start their shift early.

Which meant another long night.

The minute they reported in, they were told about the alert out on Dr. Michael Tolan and were instructed to check out the girlfriend’s place, a two-story beach house in Baycliff.