Flawless (New York Confidential #1)(62)

“Did he open his eyes again?” Kieran asked her brother.

He shook his head. “Maybe he’s waiting for you,” he said, smiling.

“I’m going to stay there tonight,” Kieran said.

“I figured. I’ll be there early in the morning,” he told her.

She said goodbye to Declan and the others, then noted that Mr. Krakowsky was still there and that Jimmy McManus—minus Gary Benton, thank heavens—was at the bar.

Kevin saw her out and safely into a cab.

When she returned to Bobby’s room, an officer she hadn’t met yet was on duty, as well as the new nurse. The officer seemed aware that she was coming and rose to open the door to Bobby’s room for her. She thanked him as she entered.

Danny was in a chair beside the bed, holding one of Bobby’s hands and apparently dozing. He heard her arrival, though, and blinked and yawned, then smiled at her.

“Any news?” she asked.

“No news is good news,” he told her. “They took him out for some scans a bit ago. One of the doctors will be back in soon.”

She nodded and took up a seat across the bed from her brother, taking Bobby’s other hand and squeezing it lightly.

Nothing at first.

Then she was certain she felt a slight squeeze in return.

“Everything okay at the pub?” Danny asked her softly.

“Yes,” she said, then hesitated. She wanted to talk to him openly, wanted to tell him what Simon Krakowsky had told her.

But she didn’t want to have that conversation over the body of a friend who was fighting for his life.

“Yes, everything is fine,” she said. “I guess we should be quiet and let Bobby rest, huh?”

“No, the doctor who came in before they took Bobby out for his scan—Dr. Huang—told me that we should talk all we want, to each other and to Bobby.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, he might hear us on some level, and it might help draw him back to consciousness.”

“Oh, well...great.”

She still didn’t want to talk about the pub, though.

“So how was your day?” she asked him. “How was your tour group?”

“Fantastic,” he said. “A bunch of college kids. It always seems so strange to me that people come to New York City to shop or go to Broadway shows, but they never come downtown. They don’t see Trinity and St. Paul’s. They have no clue that the Dutch settled New Amsterdam in 1609 and that the English didn’t take over the colony until 1664. They don’t know that the British held the city during much of the Revolution, or even that it was the capital for a while. They know nothing about Washington being here, about—” Danny stopped abruptly and gave her a wry smile. “Sorry. I just love this city so much.”

Kieran grinned. “I love the city, too, Danny.”

“Of course you do.” He sighed. “I’ll never get rich, of course. Leading tours. But I truly love it, and I hope I get to do it forever.”

“Of course you do. And you know every little nook and cranny of it, too,” she said.

Her own words suddenly disturbed her.

Yes, her brother knew the city. Knew every neighborhood, every street and every alley.

She was immediately furious with herself. Her brother was no killer.

“Our building has been there since 1833,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “Built as office space, a landmark back then at four floors. And a Finnegan opened the first pub there in 1845.”

“We’re remarkable,” she said, smiling.

She felt Bobby squeeze her hand and quickly looked down at him.

His eyes were open, and he was looking at her again. She thought that his lips even twitched into an almost-smile.

He spoke, his words raspy and barely a whisper on the air.

She couldn’t make them out and looked over at Danny, a question in her eyes.

He smiled. “He said we should keep talking.”

Bobby’s eyes fluttered shut. She could have sworn that almost-smile was still there, though.

“So, who are you taking where tomorrow?” she asked.

As Danny rattled on about his plans for the next day, she half listened.

And half worried.

*

“Everyone looks pretty normal to me,” Mike said.

Craig lowered his head, grinning. His partner looked anything but normal himself, with his neatly trimmed beard and mustache, and green contact lenses.

“They are normal,” Craig said. He was watching Krakowsky. The older man had stayed at his table by the bar all day, and he didn’t seem about to leave.

Then again, he and Mike were still there, too.

It had taken just about all his resolve not to get up and leave when Kieran did. He was afraid, he realized, of her even being on the street alone.

Which was unreasonable, he knew.

He and Mike had watched customers come and go—or come and stay—throughout the day, many of them people they’d seen on previous visits.

He’d overheard snatches of Kieran’s conversation with Mr. Krakowsky, and he was more convinced than ever that both sets of thieves had been here, either to share information or pilfer it.

As the afternoon wore on into evening, they saw many if not most of the pub’s regulars. The man who had been with Gary Benton—he heard Declan greet him as Jimmy McManus—was there with friends, luckily not including Gary. They sat where they could see one of the screens and watched a college baseball game.