City of the Dead (Alex Delaware, #37)(85)

“I don’t see the problem, Big Guy. I realize he’s dangerous but he’s due here anyway and he’d have no reason to suspect—”

“His ass is not gonna rest here, Alex.” Slapping the couch. “If your self-preservation IQ isn’t high enough, think of Robin. Hell, think of the pooch. Do you really want someone like Deeb to find out you betrayed him? What if I can’t get enough to file on him? What if he gets bail—yeah, it’s unlikely but that’s what self-preservation’s all about: figuring on unlikely. Nope, we’re doing it the old-fashioned way. Surveillance, he discards something in plain view, we snatch it. He doesn’t, we become intimate with his trash.”

He picked up his phone. “Gonna sic Moses and Alicia on that right now.”

“Not Sean?”

“Sean’s been through enough. There’s plenty of paperwork, he won’t be twiddling his thumbs.”





CHAPTER


    37


After Milo left I headed toward the rear of the house, ready to catch Robin up. Before I got there, the service door swung open and she stepped in with Blanche heeling.

Reading my eyes like the top line on a vision chart. “What did he find out?”

I told her.

She said, “That’s absolutely terrifying.” She touched my cheek. “Your instincts were spot-on.”

Then she stepped back. “You’re supposed to evaluate this psychopath. Obviously, he’s not coming back here.”

“Of course not.”

Best supporting actor in a dramatic role.

She entered the kitchen and poured herself a glass of orange juice.

I said, “The thing is—”

She swung around. “There’s a thing?”

“Normally, I’d be scheduling another appointment with him. If I just stop working the case, it will attract attention.”

“Who would you normally be talking to next?”

“I had planned on him, then another session with her. But I can schedule the daughter.”

“There you go,” she said. “As long as the mother brings her.”



* * *



—

I phoned Toni McManus to set up the appointment.

She said, “Great to hear from you, I’m ready to finish with this ordeal. He keeps calling me, putting on the nice-talk. Like I’d fall for it. So when can you see my little sweetie?”

“How about tomorrow at ten?”

“Ten’s her yoga class but this is more important. I’m not sure she really appreciates it, anyway.”

“Yoga?”

“Having to sit still.”



* * *



—

Unburdened by Porer, Toni McManus arrived at ten on the dot. All-black, per usual, hair flowing, lips set grimly.

The little girl holding her hand wore all-pink, down to frilly socks and tiny bejeweled sneakers. Small for her age. Her mother’s pointy chin adding to pixie cuteness.

Toni said, “Dr. Delaware, this is my precious Philomena. Philly, this is Dr. Delaware. Remember what I told you?”

“No shots.” Soft, tinkly voice. Clear diction despite Deeb’s lawyer tagging her as unworthy of conversation.

“Exactly, baby dolly, this is the doctor who never ever gives shots.”

Philomena’s searching blue eyes swept from her mother to me and back. Not quite sure she was buying it.

I kneeled to her level and smiled. “Your mom’s right, Philomena. No shots, ever. I won’t be touching you anywhere.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“What we are going to do is play and maybe talk. But only if you want to.”

Stating, not asking. Careful, as usual, to avoid the “Okay?” adults often tack on when they offer children non-questions and false freedom.

It’s not honest and kids hate it.

Philomena nodded. Small hands grabbed each other and both arms began swinging back and forth.

Toni said, “Sweetie? Did you hear the doctor?”

Philomena looked directly at me and whispered, “Yes, sir.”

Toni said, “The sir part she learned from her grandpa.” To Philomena: “Gramps was once a colonel. Do you remember what that is?”

“In the army.”

“Yes, baby. I guess Gramps can get pretty military, huh?”

Philomena shrugged and continued to look at me. As if searching for a solution to a problem she hadn’t quite identified.

Pretty child with delicate pale skin and a tenuous mouth. Golden hair was gathered in a single plait that reached her waist.

Miniature of her mother.

I stood and pointed toward the office and said, “That way.”



* * *



—

As the three of us walked there, I saw that the mother–child resemblance extended to gait. Philomena keeping in perfect step with Toni.

My brain clogged with a storm of strange irrelevancies.

Did Cordi Gannett look like this at three?

Did the resemblance between Con Deeb’s latest wife and his latest victim begin that early?

Do baby photos of Cordi exist? Renata Blanding has amassed albums full of Aaron, I am willing to bet…