Without Remorse

'No. But try to remember that you can't open a murder investigation without a body.'

'I have to keep my people in line.'

'From what I hear you did to her -'

'Just keeping them in line,' Tucker reemphasized. 'Making an example, like. You do that right and you don't have any more problems for a while. You're not a part of that. Why does it bother you?'

Another handful of popcorn helped him bend to the logic of the moment. 'What do you have for me?'

Tucker smiled in the darkness. 'Mr Piaggi is starting to like doing business with me.'

A grunt in the darkness. 'I wouldn't trust him.'

'It does get complicated, doesn't it?' Tucker paused. 'But I need his connections. We're about to hit the big time.'

'How long?'

'Soon,' Tucker said judiciously. 'Next step, I think, we start feeding stuff north. Tony is up there talking to some people today, matter of fact.'

'What about now? I could use something juicy.'

'Three guys with a ton of grass good enough?' Tucker asked.

'Do they know about you?'

'No, but I know about them.' That was the point, after all - his organization was tight. Only a handful of people knew who he was, and those people knew what would happen if they got a little loose. You just had to have the stones to enforce discipline.

'Take it easy on him,' Rosen said outside the private room. 'He's recovering from a major injury and he's still on several medications. He's really not capable of talking to you with a full deck.'

'I have my job, too, doctor.' It was a new officer on the case now, a detective sergeant named Tom Douglas. He was about forty, and looked every bit as tired as Kelly, Rosen thought, and every bit as angry.

'I understand that. But he's been badly hurt, plus the shock of what happened to his girlfriend.'

'The quicker we get the information we need, the better our chances are to find the bastards. Your duty is to the living, sir. Mine is to the dead.'

'If you want my medical opinion, he's not really capable of helping you right now. He's been through too much. He's clinically depressed, and that has implications for his physical recovery.'

'Are you telling me that you want to sit in?' Douglas asked. Just what I need - an amateur Sherlock to watch over us. But that was a battle he couldn't win and wouldn't bother to fight.

'I'll feel better if I can keep an eye on things. Go easy on him,' Sam repeated, opening the door.

'Mr Kelly, we're sorry,' the detective said after introducing himself. Douglas opened his notebook. The case had been booted up the ladder to his office because of its high profile. The first-page color photo on the Evening Sun had come as close to the pornographic as anything the media could publish, and the mayor had personally called for action on this one. Because of that, Douglas had taken the case, wondering how long the mayor's interest would last. Notvery, the detective thought. The only thing that occupied a politician's mind for more than a week was getting and holding votes. This case had more spin on it than one of Mike Cuellar's screwballs, but it was his case, and what was always the worst part was about to take place. 'Two nights ago you were in the company of a young lady named Pamela Madden?'

'Yes.' Kelly's eyes were closed when Nurse O'Toole came in with his morning antibiotic dose. She was surprised to see the two other men there and stopped in the doorway, not knowing if she should interrupt or not.

'Mr Kelly, yesterday afternoon we discovered the body of a young woman who fits the physical description of Miss Madden.' Douglas reached into his coat pocket.

'No!' Rosen said, getting out of his chair.

'Is this she?' Douglas asked, holding the photo before Kelly's face, hoping that his proper grammar would somehow lessen the impact.

'God damnit! ' The surgeon turned the cop around and pushed him against the wall. In the process the photo dropped on the patient's chest.

Kelly's eyes went wide in horror. His body sprang upwards, fighting the restraints. Then he collapsed, his skin pasty white. All in the room turned away but for the nurse, whose eyes were locked on her patient.

'Look, doc, I -' Douglas tried to say.

'Get the hell out of my hospital!' Rosen fairly screamed. 'You can kill somebody with that kind of shock! Why didn't you tell me -'

'He has to identify -'

'I could have done that!'

O'Toole heard the noise as the two grown men scuffled like children in a playground, but John Kelly was her concern, the antibiotic medication still in her hand. She tried to remove the photograph from Kelly's view, but her own eyes were first drawn to the image and then repulsed by it as Kelly's hand seized the print and held it a scant twelve inches from his own wide-open eyes. It was his expression now that occupied her consciousness. Sandy recoiled briefly at what she saw there, but then Kelly's face composed itself and he spoke.

'It's okay, Sam. He has his job to do, too.' Kelly looked down at the photo one last time. Then he closed his eyes and held it up for the nurse to take.

And things settled down for everyone except Nurse O'Toole. She watched Kelly swallow the oversized pill and left the room for the calm of the corridor.

Sandra O'Toole walked back to the nurses' station, remembering what she alone had seen. Kelly's face turning so pale that her first reaction to it was that he must be in shock, then the tumult behind her as she reached for her patient - but then what? It wasn't like the first time at all. Kelly's face had transformed itself. Only an instant, like opening a door into some other place, and she'd seen something she had never imagined. Something very old and feral and ugly. The eyes not wide, but focused on something she could not see. The pallor of his face not that of shock, but of rage. His hands balled briefly into fists of quivering stone. And then his face had changed again. There had been comprehension to replace the blind, killing rage, and what she'd seen next was the most dangerous sight she had ever beheld, though she knew not why. Then the door closed. Kelly's eyes shut, and when he opened them, his face was unnaturally serene. The complete sequence had not taken four seconds, she realized, all of it while Rosen and Douglas had been scuffling against the wall. He'd passed from horror to rage to understanding - then to concealment, but what had come in between comprehension and disguise was the most frightening thing of all.

What had she seen in the face of this man? It took her a moment to answer the question. Death was what she'd seen. Controlled. Planned. Disciplined.

But it was still Death, living in the mind of a man.

'I don't like doing this sort of thing, Mr Kelly,' Douglas said back in the room as he adjusted his coat. The detective and the surgeon traded a look of mutual embarrassment.

'John, are you all right?' Rosen looked him over and took his pulse quickly, surprised to find it nearly normal.

'Yeah.' Kelly nodded. He looked at the detective. "That's her. That's Pam.'

'I'm sorry. I really am,' Douglas said with genuine sincerity, 'but there's no easy way to do this. There never is. Whatever happened, it's over now, and now it's our job to try and identify the people who did it. We need your help to do that.'

'Okay,' Kelly said neutrally. 'Where's Frank? How come he's not here?'

'?? can't have a hand in this,' Sergeant Douglas answered, with a look to the surgeon. 'He knows you. Personal involvement in a criminal case isn't terribly professional.' It wasn't entirely true - in fact, was hardly true at all - but it served the purpose. 'Did you see the people who -'

Kelly shook his head, looking down at the bed, and he spoke just above a whisper. 'No. I was looking the wrong way. She said something, but I didn't get around. Pam saw them, I turned right, then started turning left. I never made it.'

'What were you doing at the time?'

'Observing. Look, you talked to Lieutenant Allen, right?'

'That's correct.' Douglas nodded.

'Pam witnessed a murder. I was bringing her in to talk to Frank about it.'