The Eighth Day Read Online Free PDF Page B

“According to the police, he went to something called the ‘Home Depot’ and bought what he needed. Then he built this little room from the inside out.”
    Danny couldn’t believe it. The idea blew him away. “But why? Why would anyone ever
do
that? There are guns for that. Bridges! Pills!”
    Belzer shook his head, almost wistfully. “Obviously, he was crazy.”
    No shit,
Danny thought. “Of
course
he was crazy, but . . . what I’m getting at is: What made him do it? Even crazy people have
reasons
for what they do. They’re just
crazy
reasons.”
    Belzer made a gesture that conveyed a mix of helplessness and indifference. “I’m sure you’re right.”
    Danny nodded, then ran a hand through his hair. Finally, he made an effort to get down to business. “Okay, so Mr. Terio’s kind of a mystery. But why me? I mean, I can understand why you want to find out about this campaign against your client, but—why not go to Fellner Associates?” Before the lawyer could answer, Danny plunged on. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m flattered. It’s just that . . . They’re the A-team. I’m just one guy. I don’t have anything
like
their resources.”
    It wasn’t something that he wanted to say, but it was so obvious that it couldn’t be avoided. He was a part-time PI who didn’t even have a license—whereas Fellner Associates had a dozen offices in half a dozen countries and 120 staffers, including a former deputy director of the CIA. It also had subscriptions to a hundred esoteric databases and a Rolodex packed with the names and telephone numbers of experts on everything from “questioned documents” to data forensics. So
Why me?
was by no means a bad question.
    “Actually,” Belzer confided, “you’ve worked for Mr. Zebek before.”
    Danny looked surprised. “I have?”
    The lawyer nodded. “You were . . . I think they call it a ‘subcontractor.’ ”
    “A ‘sub.’ ”
    “Exactly. You helped with a matter that Fellner was handling for Mr. Zebek’s holding company.”
    Danny shook his head. “Remind me.”
    “Sistemi di Pavone.”
    Danny thought about it. He’d done lots of work for Fellner, but at such a low level that he sometimes wasn’t even told the client’s name.
Sistemi di Pavone
didn’t ring a bell, but it seemed impolite to say so. “Ri-iight.”
    “Mr. Zebek has rather a lot of—what should I say?— ‘work-type work’ with Fellner. Due diligence, for the most part, some mergers and acquisitions. But the Terio issue is different. It’s a personal attack.” Belzer paused to be certain Danny got the point, and then went on. “So there’s no need to involve Fellner. What we’d like to do is isolate the Terio investigation from our other work—while still keeping everything . . . in-house, so to speak.”
    Danny nodded his understanding. He could see where it might make sense. Then he shifted in his seat and leaned forward. He should raise the question of fees—which was a little bit tricky. Fellner paid him twenty-five dollars an hour but billed him out at double that. So maybe he should ask for thirty-five. Or even fifty (if he could do it with a straight face).
    An announcement came over the public-address system, and Belzer glanced at his watch.
    “When does your plane leave?” Danny asked.
    Belzer’s chin lifted slightly. “When I tell it to,” he said.
    It took a moment for this to sink in, and, when it did, Danny heard himself say, “Well, I can probably help, but . . . maybe you could be a little more specific about what you’re after.”
    “Christian Terio,” Belzer insisted, looking a bit annoyed. “It’s as simple as that. Who
was
he? What was he up to?”
    “You said he was a professor.”
    “He was in the Philosophy and Religious Studies Department at George Mason University,” Belzer explained. “It’s hard to understand why anyone in that position would want to malign Mr. Zebek. So we’d like to find out a little more about his friends and