attend to basic necessities, she rarely left her place.
âJohnnie! Thought you were supposed to be in the U.K. Fantastic to hear from you, babe.â
âI am in London, Corrie. Iâm worried about Evelyn because I canât reach her. Is there any way you could go over to her place and make sure sheâs okay?â
She paused. âSure, I guess thatâs all right. Do you have any particular reason to worry?â
âIâve run into a complication over here, thatâs all, and I want to be sure nothingâs wrong.â
âWhat complication? John, didnât I tell you it was a mistake to accept that job when the client wouldnât give you his name?â
When she dropped the endearments and called me John, I knew her patience was wearing thin. âI needed the money too much, Corrie. You know how far I was stretched. Thatâs water under the bridge right now. Iâd really appreciate it if you could check on her.â I gave her Evelynâs address and apartment number.
âOf course. Donât think another minute about it. For heavenâs sake, keep safe yourself.â
âThanks. What would I do without you? Like I said, I havenât been able to get a hold of her yet, so please call me back as soon as you find her.â
I wandered over to the bed and sat down, hoping Iâd hear from her soon with good news. I looked at the open, empty drawer. At least Iâd had the presence of mind to make sure the book was insured for the gap of time between the auction and its delivery to the solicitor. Toller Art Insurance in Manhattan maintained a twenty-four-hour line. Predictably, when I contacted them a standard recording came on.
I lay down and stared at the old vermiculite ceiling. When my cell rang I bolted up with a start.
It wasnât Evelyn. I didnât recognize the number.
âAm I speaking to John Madison?â
âYou are.â
âThis is Detective Eleanor OâNeil with the New York Police. I believe youâre listed as the primary contact for an Evelyn Farhad in case of an emergency?â
My pulse raced. âYes I am. Whatâs wrong?â
âSorry to tell you this, sir, she was found by another officer after a resident of her building called in a disturbance. Sheâd been assaulted and was critical when he got to her. She passed away in the ambulance en route to the hospital.â
Four
O âNeil paused. âSir, are you still there? Did you hear what I said?â
When I didnât reply she waited. She could have waited forever and Iâm not sure I could have responded. I was only vaguely aware of more words echoing through the phone before I let it drop.
Time stretched on. The bottle of scotch was empty. I had no memory of finishing it. There was a strange buzzing in my room. A green light flashed on my bed. My cell with an incoming text. The insurance people probably. I didnât give a shit.
It began to rain hard again and gusts of bitter wind hammered the drops in through the open window. Part of the carpet and the back of a chair were already wet. I left it like that.
In the bathroom I threw freezing water on my face, ran my fingers through my hair. My eyes were bloodshot. A vicious, throbbing pain punched away at my head. After throwing back a couple of Tylenol and washing them down with a drink straight from the faucet, I tossed my clothes and sundries into my bag and snapped it shut. The clock on the night table showed almost one thirty in the morning. My plan, as far as I was able to make one, was to head straight for Heathrow and take the next available flight home.
I slammed the window shut, producing a hairline crack in the glass. The door lock clicked on my way out. I left the key card with the concierge and made my way to the underground parking lot to find my rental, getting drenched in the process but beyond caring.
Stepping into the garish fluorescence of the car park,