Recursion(9)
“I work a lot,” she says, “so I only had six people to tell. My dad cried, but he always cries. No one was really surprised. God, that sounds pathetic, doesn’t it?”
Slade looks at her, says, “I think balance is for people who don’t know why they’re here.”
She considers that. In high school, in college, she was encouraged again and again to find her passion—a reason to get out of bed and breathe. In her experience, few people ever found that raison d’être.
What teachers and professors never told her was about the dark side of finding your purpose. The part where it consumes you. Where it becomes a destroyer of relationships and happiness. And still, she wouldn’t trade it. This is the only person she knows how to be.
They’re approaching the entrance to the superstructure.
“Hold up a second,” Slade says. “Watch.” He points toward the wall of mist as it plows across the platform. The air becomes cold and silent. Helena can’t even see to the helipad. They’re caught in the heart of a cloud.
Slade looks at her. “Do you want to change the world with me?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Good. Let’s go see what I’ve built for you.”
BARRY
November 5, 2018
NEW YORK CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT
24TH PRECINCT, 151 W 100TH ST.
NEW YORK, NY 10025
* CHIEF OF POLICE
JOHN R. POOLE
* TELEPHONE
(212) 555-1811
[X] PRELIMINARY POLICE REPORT
[ ] SUPPLEMENTAL REPORT
CSRR
01457C
DATE
07/11/03
TIME
2130
DAY
FRI
LOCATION
2000 WEST 102ND
41ST FLOOR
NATURE OF REPORT
POLICE—NARRATIVE
I, PO RIVELLI, WHILE ON PATROL, RESPONDED TO A 10–56A AT THE POE BUILDING ON THE TERRACE OF THE HULTQUIST LLC OFFICES. I FOUND A WOMAN STANDING ON THE LEDGE. I IDENTIFIED MYSELF AS A POLICE OFFICER AND ASKED HER TO PLEASE STEP DOWN. SHE REFUSED TO COMPLY AND WARNED ME NOT TO COME NEAR HER OR SHE WOULD JUMP. I ASKED HER NAME AND SHE TOLD ME IT WAS FRANNY BEHRMAN [W/F DOB 12/06/63 OF 509 E 110TH ST]. SHE DID NOT APPEAR TO BE UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF ANY DRUGS OR ALCOHOL. I ASKED HER IF THERE WAS ANYONE I COULD CALL FOR HER. SHE SAID “NO.” I ASKED WHY SHE WANTED TO END HER LIFE. SHE SAID NOTHING BROUGHT HER HAPPINESS, AND THAT HER HUSBAND AND FAMILY WOULD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT HER. I ASSURED HER THIS WAS NOT THE CASE.
AT THIS POINT, SHE STOPPED RESPONDING TO MY QUESTIONS AND SEEMED TO BE BUILDING THE NERVE TO JUMP. I WAS ON THE VERGE OF ATTEMPTING TO PHYSICALLY REMOVE HER FROM THE LEDGE WHEN I RECEIVED A RADIO COMMUNICATION FROM PO DECARLO, ADVISING THAT MRS. BEHRMAN’S HUSBAND [JOE BEHRMAN, W/M DOB 3/12/61 OF 509 E 110TH ST.] WAS COMING UP THE ELEVATOR TO SEE HIS WIFE. I ADVISED MRS. BEHRMAN OF THIS.
MR. BEHRMAN ARRIVED ON THE ROOF. HE APPROACHED HIS WIFE AND CONVINCED HER TO STEP BACK ONTO THE TERRACE.
I ESCORTED MR. AND MRS. BEHRMAN DOWN TO THE STREET, AND SHE WAS TRANSFERRED VIA AMBULANCE TO SISTERS OF MERCY HOSPITAL FOR EVALUATION.
REPORT OF PO RIVELLI
OFFICER IN CHARGE SGT-DAWES
* * *
Massively hungover and sitting at his desk in the field of cubicles, Barry reads the incident report for a third time. It’s making his brain itch in all the wrong ways, because it’s the exact opposite of what Ann Voss Peters said had happened between her husband and his first wife. She thought that Franny had jumped.
He sets the report aside, wakes his monitor, and logs into the New York State DMV database, his head throbbing behind his eyes.
His search for Joe and Franny Behrman turns up a last-known address of 6 Pinewood Lane in Montauk.
He should let this fall to the wayside. Forget about FMS and Ann Voss Peters and get on with the listing towers of paperwork and open case files that clutter his desk. There is no crime here to justify his time. Only…inconsistencies.
But the truth is—now he’s madly curious.
He’s been a detective for twenty-three years because he loves solving puzzles, and this one, this contradictory set of events, is whispering to him—a misalignment he feels a compulsion to put right.
He could get written up for driving his Crown Vic out to the end of Long Island on something that was decidedly not sanctioned, jurisdictional police business, and his head hurts too much to drive that far anyway.
So he pulls up the MTA website and studies the schedules.
There’s a train leaving Penn Station for Montauk in just under an hour.
HELENA
January 18, 2008–October 29, 2008
Day 79
Living on Slade’s decommissioned oil rig is like getting paid to stay at a five-star resort that also happens to be your office. She wakes each morning on the superstructure’s top level, where all the crew quarters are located. Hers is a spacious corner apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows made of rain-repellant glass. They atomize water droplets so that even in the worst weather, her view of the endless sea remains unobstructed. Once a week, housekeepers clean her apartment and take out her laundry. A Michelin-starred chef prepares most meals, often using fresh-caught fish, and fruit and vegetables harvested from the greenhouse.