Bloodlines

Warren wasn’t sure he understood what Auburn meant, but he thanked him, and when Auburn made him promise to call him the next day, on Wednesday, he agreed to it. As he was about to go, Auburn said, “And promise me you won’t kill yourself.”

Warren shook his head and said, “I can’t promise that,” even as something within him eased, just to hear this spoken of so directly.

“All right then, promise me you won’t kill yourself before Thursday.”

He smiled a little. “All right. I won’t kill myself before Thursday.”

As Warren drove down the hill, he saw the ocean stretching out to the horizon from the shore. The sun was setting. On any other day, he might have thought it beautiful. Now, he could only think of darkness, and endless, cold, deep water.

“Todd,” he whispered. “Forgive me.”

Then he saw the patrol car waiting to follow him home. He wondered how long this hell would last.

Until Thursday, at least.

17

I T TOOK TWENTY MINUTES OF SEARCHING, BUT FINALLY O’CONNOR SAW A public phone sign on a restaurant on the edge of town and pulled into its lot. He fished a handful of coins from his glove compartment, found the phone booth, went into it, sat down, and shut the glass door. He found his hands were shaking. He took a deep breath, picked up the receiver, and deposited a dime, listening to the small bell chime twice as the dime rolled through the mechanism.

The operator would have put him through to the police department without charge, but he had decided to call Norton directly. Dan said it would take him about forty-five minutes to make some calls and get out there, but O’Co

O’Co

“I thought I told you to sleep,” Wrigley said, but when O’Co

“No. The man was shot. Jack doesn’t carry a gun. And he didn’t fight Jack, he beat him. There’s a difference.”

“Agreed. You sure he’s the guy?”

“No, but how many blond, crewcut giants might have died not far from where Jack was found?”

“Right. Listen, I’m not sure I’ve got anyone I can spare at the moment. What a damnable few days this has been. To make matters worse, Harvey quit.”

Harvey was one of their best. He had been a top war correspondent who, when he was wounded overseas, recuperated in Las Piernas and decided he wanted to stay. Wrigley had always considered his hiring a coup.

“Harvey? Why?”

“Some newsroom joker pulled the old cap gun prank today.”

O’Co

“Harvey thought he was back on Guam?”

“Exactly. Wouldn’t admit that, of course. Really shook him up and then he was embarrassed. Think you can talk him into coming back? He’s a friend of Jack’s, I know, but you get along with him, too, right?”

“Sure, but don’t count on me to persuade him to do anything. I’ll call him but he’s his own man.”

Harvey was reluctant to talk at first, but thawed a little as O’Co

Then O’Co

“And why the giant was shot,” Harvey said slowly.

Hooked, and O’Co

There was a silence, then Harvey said, “Wrigley put you up to this?”

“I told him you’d make up your own mind.”

After another long silence, he said, “Tell me how to find this place in the marsh.”

It was dark by the time O’Co

Once he had shown them the body, he was asked to wait in his car. He didn’t mind getting out of the cold and away from the stink. And he didn’t especially want to watch the poor bastards who’d have to fish the giant out of the muck and mire going about their business. So he went back to the Nash.

Harvey had to tap on the car window to wake him up when he arrived. O’Co

“As a matter of fact, yes. Or something close to it. The Linworths’ slightly deaf butler told Lillian that a tall gent who showed up at her daughter’s birthday party was named Bob Gherkin. Close enough, wouldn’t you say? He’s the one who attacked Corrigan.”

O’Co

After the coroner’s wagon left, Norton motioned O’Co

“You said Jack’s keys were missing?”

“Yes. Did you find them?”

“Describe them. Key chain, too.”

O’Co

“Which saint?”

“Patron saint of reporters-St. Francis of Sales.”

Norton nodded to the crime scene investigator and the man held up a cellophane envelope. “Don’t touch it,” Norton warned O’Co

There was a gold-colored medal in the envelope, bent near the top, where it had apparently been pulled by force off the key ring. O’Co

“That’s Jack’s-not a doubt in my mind. He caught it in a metal desk drawer at work a few weeks ago and jammed the drawer. I can see the nick that was left on it when he finally worked it free. You found it on Jergenson?”

“In his trousers pocket.”

“No keys with it?”

“No, and if they aren’t in the marsh, then maybe someone is using them to try to get into Jack’s place. I’ve got an undercover car keeping an eye on it, just in case our friends stop by, but I won’t be able to do that for long. You think you can swing by there just to make sure the place hasn’t been turned upside down?”

“Sure. But-listen, Dan, there are some things I want to talk to you about- about Katy.”

“Tell you what. There’s a steak place not far from Jack’s. Let’s go by his house, take a quick look, grab his teddy bear or whatever the hell else he may need at the hospital-other than a bottle of rye-and leave. Then you can tell me all your troubles over di