The October List Part 19

'I'm ready,' Surani said. 'Do I look like I'm not ready? And "stick on her like glue"? Could you pick a worse cliche?'

Kepler ignored him.

But the pursuit didn't happen just then. From inside Gabriela's apartment, whispers arose. And the game began again.

Uhn, uhn, uhn ...

'f.u.c.k,' Surani muttered, sitting down once more.

Kepler stared. His partner rarely swore. The Charles Prescott Op was bringing out the worst in everybody.

CHAPTER.

12.

Noon, Sat.u.r.day

30 minutes earlier

Gabriela pressed a tissue to her eyes as she and Daniel were back on the sidewalk, heading for Central Park, silent and digesting the stark news they'd received in the lobby of her building. They were on a sidewalk crosshatched by sharp shadows from the trees overhead. The September sun continued to radiate fierce power, though little heat, like a distant spotlight. Occasionally Daniel's arm brushed hers and she wondered if he would embrace her for solace.

He didn't.

'We'll go to the office,' she said, desperation in her voice. 'Maybe the police are finished with it now. I can try to find this October List.'

She caught a glimpse of herself reflected in a window. How like everyone else she looked, how normal tan stretch pants, tight burgundy sweater, leather jacket, the purse over her shoulder, the Tiffany bag dangling from her hand, a handsome man at her side. On their way to a movie or a health club or brunch with friends.

How like everyone else.

Yet how different.

'That guy, Joseph,' Daniel replied. 'Jesus. You know, his giddiness was the most scary. His joking. It's just sick.'

'Part of me thinks I should go to the police anyway,' she said. Then looked at him. 'What do you think?'

Daniel considered this. 'Honestly, I think the consequences could be disastrous if he found out.'

'But they know how to handle these things!' Gabriela said fervently. 'They have kidnap specialists. I'm sure they do. Hostage negotiators.'

'This is different. It's not like Joseph's asking for money that you can agree to pay him and the police'd back you up on that. If you go to them even a.s.suming Joseph doesn't find out about it the October List is going to come up. And the cops're going to want it.'

After a moment she said, 'True.' Another dab of tissue to her eye.

'And we have to a.s.sume that Joseph's doing what he threatened: having somebody watch you to make sure you don't go near the police.'

'You don't deserve this, Daniel. You shouldn't have anything to do with it, with me. I didn't even know you twenty-four hours ago. You should just go home and forget all about me.'

Gabriela sensed his head swiveling.

He said, 'Not really interested in that.'

'In what?'

'Forgetting about you.' She gripped his arm and briefly rested her head against his solid biceps. She'd seen a movie starring the actor whom Daniel resembled, in which the man had removed his s.h.i.+rt, to the thrill of most women in the audience. Not only were their faces similar but their builds closely matched.

'My office is in Midtown, east. Let's get a cab. We should move fast. The deadline ... six p.m. We have so much to do.' She turned to look for a taxi.

'Wait,' he said in a sharp whisper.

'What?'

'We're being followed,' Daniel said.

'Are you sure?' She sounded doubtful. But she looked behind and saw a van easing to the curb. 'Joseph?'

'I didn't see any vans before.'

'If it's police,' she said, panic in her voice, 'and Joseph sees, he'll think we called them! He'll kill Sarah!'

'We're not sure it's the cops. Maybe it's a coincidence.'

But the van wasn't happenstance; it was in fact occupied by the police. This was confirmed when they noticed a blue-and-white NYPD patrol car start toward them from Columbus Circle, then brake suddenly and make a U-turn.

She said, 'Somebody in the van just radioed the squadcar and told them to get the h.e.l.l out of here. Yep, it's cops. They're hoping I'll lead them to Charles.'

'And look,' Daniel muttered.

She followed his eyes toward what was probably an unmarked police car a gray sedan with several small antennas bristling on the roof.

'G.o.dd.a.m.n it,' she snapped, furious. 'They're all over the place!'

'What should we do?'

After a moment of debate, she said, 'Let's go back to my apartment. Wait, walk over there, by the curb.'

'What?'

'Stay in the sunlight.'

Daniel frowned, uncertainly. Then he gave a smile. 'Ah, you want them to see us.'

'Exactly.'

In ten minutes they were back at her apartment building. They found no unwelcome a.s.sailants inside this time and stepped into the hesitant elevator for a ride to the second floor. In her unit, which faced south, she set the Tiffany bag he'd brought for her on an antique table by the door, her purse too. Shucked her jacket and slung it on a hook.

Daniel looked around the place, focused on the books, the pictures of a little blond girl.

'Sarah,' he said.

She didn't bother to nod. It wasn't a question anyway.

Daniel noted other pictures, mostly of Gabriela by herself. A few with her and her parents. One he studied for a long moment.

'You and your father?'

She looked his way. 'That's right.'

'He's a good-looking man. Do your parents live in the city?'

'He pa.s.sed away,' she told him. 'Mom's in a home.'

'I'm sorry. What did he do for a living?'

'Worked for the power company. Con Ed. Manager.'

The picture had been taken a decade ago. It depicted a twenty-two-year-old Gabriela and her father, exactly thirty years older; they shared the same birthday, May 10. Taurus. She told Daniel this, then added wistfully, 'He used to say people who're Tauruses think astrology is a lot of bull.'

Daniel laughed. And he looked over the image of the tall man, with trim salt-and-pepper hair, once more.

She didn't tell him that the picture had been taken a week before his death.

They had the same expression on their faces, easy and humorous, unrehea.r.s.ed. Her mother had been having a good day and she'd playfully snapped the picture.

Then Daniel noted a dozen framed artistic photographs, all in black and white. He walked close to examine them. They were mostly still lives and landscape but some portraits too.

He asked, 'So these are yours.'

She was gazing out the window, through a slit in a side curtain. 'What?'

'These photos. Yours?'

'Yes.'

'Well, I'm impressed.' He walked along the carpeted floor in front of them, bending close to examine each one.

'I used to paint but I decided I liked photography better. There's something seductive about taking reality and controlling it.' Her voice was enthusiastic, but that energy suddenly vanished and she fell silent, as she gazed at a framed crayon drawing of a heart. I love you Mommy was painstakingly written in the margin.

Now Daniel eased to the window.

'See the cops?' She turned away from the artwork.

'Not yet,' he replied looking out again.

They discussed what to do next, how to save Sarah getting into the Prescott Investments office, trying to find the October List and the money.

She fell silent and sat heavily in a chair. 'It's overwhelming,' she said.

'Nothing's overwhelming if you take it step by step.' Scanning the street, he clicked his tongue. 'Yep. There they are. There's a playground across the street, a couple hanging out there, heads down. Only they're in business suits and there're no kids nearby. They might be talking into microphones in their sleeves. Oh, and then on the roof of the building facing yours? It looks like that duo from the street.'

'The roof?' she asked with a frown of disbelief. 'They're looking in?'

'No, they're just setting up equipment, it looks like. Microphone a dish of some kind.'

Gabriela turned away and looked absently around the room.

'All right.'

Daniel looked at her inquiringly.

'Let me know when they're finished.'

She walked back and forth in front of the window, pacing anxiously.

Only a minute later he said, 'Okay, they're aiming some big phallic lens this way.'

She stepped close to him and whispered, 'Let's talk about Charles and the case, but don't say anything about Joseph.'

He nodded.

For five minutes they carried on an improvised, but credible conversation about Charles Prescott's alleged crimes and her desperate situation. At one point, though, real tears began cascading down her cheeks and she had to pause to compose herself.

Then, standing right in front of the window, she instructed, 'Come here.'

'What-?' Daniel asked.

'Come here,' she repeated firmly.

Frowning, curious at her tone, Daniel did as instructed. As a cool autumn breeze flowed into the room from the open window, she gripped him hard and kissed him on his mouth. Tentatively at first, then more firmly.