Watch You Die Read Online Free PDF

craving coffee. I had planned on getting a cup of takeout along the way but nothing was open. I was exhausted in that brain-buzzy way, that I-might-lose-my-balance way, having been unable to get to sleep for hours after Joe finally stopped calling. He had called six full sets of ten rings each, each set truncated by voicemail, before finally giving up. Six sets, sixty rings. By the time my alarm clock turned on the radio at five o’clock I’d slept maybe two hours.
    Quick, echoing footsteps drew my attention toward Flatbush, a normally hellacious avenue which at this hour was calm, with only the occasional car or truck rumbling by. A very tall man in a suit and tie walked in my direction. White guy, wearing a black backpack and a bright yellow bike helmet, which he removed as he came closer. He had sandy, thinning hair and wore rimless rectangular glasses. His hand was sweaty as he reached out to shake mine.
    “Everything I say is off the record,” he said.
    “Then how can I help you?”
    “I’m an ‘anonymous source’. That’s how you’ll refer to me.”
    “And if I need to find you?”
    He smiled. His teeth were straight as soldiers and tea-yellowed. Up close, in the waning moonlight, his skin had a papery glow.
    “Abe Starkman. Project Manager, Department of Buildings. That’s for your information only.”
    “OK. It’s off the record. Why am I here?”
    “Come.”
    He led me partway down the block to the empty lot where the chemical factory had stood. Orange lines had been spray-painted to mark out individual lots. At the front of the factory lot, my lot, was an uneven blue X.
    “What’s that?” I asked.
    “All work’s been halted.”
    “Just here?”
    “Yes. Just this lot.”
    “Since when?”
    “Yesterday.”
    In the passing light of a truck I saw that despite the chilly air a sweat had gathered on Abe’s forehead. He drew a tissue out of his pants pocket to wipe it off. Glanced at the lot and the blue X as if to remind himself that he had made a decision to talk to me. And continued.
    “Someone from Buildings is going to call you later.”
    “To say they filed a stop work order?”
    “Yes, and to tell you why.”
    I took a small pad and pen out of my bag and flipped it open. He stopped talking. Through his glasses I saw that his eyes were a milky blue. Not a muscle moved on his face yet the sweat had regathered like a storm. I had a feeling that this was a man of rules, a bureaucrat. Talking out of school, watching me note his every word, clearly made him uncomfortable. I put my pad away.
    “The person who calls you will tell you that toxic chemicals were found buried in sealed drums. He’ll tell you that the contents of the drums are unknown and the department hasn’t determined yet whether it’s seeped into the earth. He’ll tell you they halted work at this lot until a determination can been made. He’ll tell you they’re acting on our behalf, for our safety. You’ll be referred to Russet Cleanup to answer more questions. Russet will tell you more lies.”
    Two cars sped past on Flatbush, racing each other, trailing harmonizing notes of blowing horns.
    “The truth is that the work was stopped because one of the workers found bones.”
    “Bones?”
    “Human bones.”
    “I see.” Though I didn’t, not fully. “Why can’t they just tell the truth?”
    “Because the truth scares them. It could expose more truth that could devastate the Buildings Department and even City Hall.”
    I glanced at the lot, delineated in the darkness by bright orange lines, and saw now that the dirt had been raked smooth.
    “How many bones?”
    “Seventeen. All we know now is that they come from at least three different people.”
    “Did they make any identification?”
    “No, not yet. The bones are old though they’re not sure how old.”
    “Months? Years?”
    “Decades. Possibly older.”
    “As in it could be remains from an early settlement? That old?” Though even as I suggested this,