'You're keeping me employed, too, Mr. Flynn,' Daniel said, making a nervous joke to keep the conversation going. There was something about Flynn that made Daniel want to prolong their meeting. 'It seems like you cross swords with Reed, Briggs pretty often.'
'So I do,' Flynn answered with a laugh. 'If you ever grow tired of toiling away for evil corporate interests and decide you want to engage in some honest labor, give me a call. We public school boys should stick together. It was good seeing you again.'
Flynn stuck out his hand. As they shook, the elevator door opened, attracting Flynn's attention.
'Before you go, I'd like you to meet someone.'
Flynn released Daniel's hand and led him toward the office entrance. A haggard-looking woman in her late twenties was propping open the door with her shoulder and pushing a stroller into the lobby. In the stroller was a baby boy about six months old. His head was down and Daniel could not see his face. Flynn greeted them both.
'Alice, how are you? And how is Patrick doing?'
At the sound of his name, the little boy looked up. He had a mop of blond hair the color of new-mown hay and sky-blue eyes, but below his eyes something had gone terribly wrong. Where his lip should have been was a raw and gaping hole so wide that Daniel could see the saliva that moistened the back of the baby's throat. Patrick's left nostril was normal, but his deformed lip had pushed into the right side of the baby's nose, stretching it wide like Silly Putty. Patrick should have been adorable, but his cleft palate made him look like a horror-movie monster.
Flynn knelt next to the stroller and ruffled Patrick's hair. The baby made a whistling, hissing sound that bore no relation to the cute cooing sounds made by normal babies. Daniel fought with every ounce of his energy to hide his revulsion, then felt guilty for being repelled by the child.
'Daniel, this is Patrick Cummings,' Flynn said pleasantly as he watched the reaction of the young associate. 'And this is Alice Cummings, Patrick's mother. She had the misfortune to take Insufort during her pregnancy.'
'Nice meeting you, Mrs. Cummings,' Daniel said, managing somehow to keep his tone light. Patrick's mother was not fooled. She could see that her son's looks repulsed Daniel and she could not hide her sadness.
Daniel felt awful. He wanted to get out of Flynn's office as fast as possible, but he forced himself to say good-bye and to walk to the elevator slowly so Patrick's mother would not think that he was fleeing from her son. When the elevator doors closed Daniel sagged against the wall. Up until now the children in the Geller case had only been names on a pleading, but Patrick Cummings was flesh and blood. As the car descended Daniel tried to imagine the life Patrick would lead. Would he ever have friends? Would he find a woman who would love him? Was his life over before it had started?
There was one other question that needed an answer: Was Insufort responsible for the fate of Patrick Cummings?
Chapter Four.
Irene Kendall had let the john pick her up in the bar at the Mirage a little before eight in the evening. He'd had a good run at the craps table and was high on his good fortune. She'd listened attentively while he bragged about his gambling prowess. When he started to feel his drinks Irene hinted that she might be amenable to a sexual adventure. It was only after she was sure the john was panting for it that she explained that she was a working girl and told him her rates. The john laughed and told her that the bell captain had pointed her out to him. He said he preferred sex with whores.
The john had paid up front and tipped her afterward, and he hadn't roughed her up or asked for anything exotic. The only downside to the evening was the motel, a by-the-hour fuck pad in a run-down part of town. A lot of Irene's clientele stayed in the classy rooms at the Mirage or the other upscale casinos on the Strip and the motel was definitely a comedown. Still, the room was clean and the john was satisfied with a quick in-and-out, so she didn't have to work hard for her money. When Irene got ready to go, the john surprised her by telling her that she could stay in the room because he had to catch an early flight. She accepted the offer and immediately fell into a deep sleep.
Irene never heard the door being jimmied and had no idea that there was someone else in the room until a gloved hand clamped across her mouth. Her eyes sprang open and she tried to sit up, but the muzzle of a gun pressed hard into the flesh of her forehead and forced her head deep into her pillow.
'Scream and die. Answer my questions and live. Nod slowly if you understand me.'
The feeble light cast by the flashing neon sign on the bar next door revealed that the speaker wore a ski mask. Irene nodded slowly and the gloved hand withdrew, leaving the sour taste of leather in her mouth.
'Where is he?'
'Gone,' she gasped in a voice hoarse with fear.
'Say good-bye, bitch,' the intruder whispered. Irene heard the gun cock.
'Please,' she begged. 'I'm not his friend, I'm a pro. He was a pickup at the Mirage. He fucked me, he paid me, and he left. He said I could use the room for the night because he had an early flight. I swear that's all I know.'
'How long ago did he leave?'
The prostitute's eyes shifted to the clock radio on the nightstand.
'Fifteen minutes. He just left.'
Two cruel eyes studied Irene for what seemed an eternity. Then the gun withdrew.
'Stay.'
The intruder vanished though the door. Irene did not move for five minutes. Then she raced into the bathroom and threw up.
Chapter Five.
The main entrance to Reed, Briggs, Stephens, Stottlemeyer and Compton was on the thirtieth floor of a modern, thirty-story office building in the middle of downtown Portland, but Reed, Briggs leased several other floors. A week after delivering the boxes of discovery to Aaron Flynn's office, Daniel stepped out of the elevator on the twenty-seventh floor at 7:30 in the morning. This floor, where Daniel had his office, could only be entered by tapping in a code on a keypad that was attached to the wall next to one of two narrow glass panels that bracketed a locked door. Daniel started to reach for the keypad when he noticed what appeared to be some kind of microphone affixed to the wall above the keypad. Taped next to it was a sign that said:
REED, BRIGGS'S KEY ENTRY SYSTEM IS NOW VOICE-ACTIVATED. CLEARLY AND LOUDLY SAY YOUR NAME, THEN STATE 'OPEN DOOR NOW.'
On closer inspection Daniel could see that the 'microphone' was really a round, metal cap from a juice bottle that had been taped to a small, plastic pencil sharpener. Both had been painted black. Daniel shook his head and tapped in his number. The lock clicked and he opened the door. As he expected, Joe Molinari was lurking behind a partition staring through the glass panel that gave him a view of the keypad.
'You're an asshole,' Daniel said.
Molinari jerked him behind the partition just as Miranda Baker, a nineteen-year-old from the mailroom, approached the door.
'Watch this,' Molinari said.
Baker started to tap in her code when she noticed the sign. She hesitated, then said, 'Miranda Baker. Open door now.' She tried the door, but it would not open. She looked puzzled. Molinari doubled over with laughter.
'That's not funny, Joe. She's a good kid.'
'Wait,' Molinari insisted, trying to stifle his laughter for fear that Baker would hear him. She repeated her name and the command. Molinari had tears in his eyes.
'I'm going to let her in,' Daniel said just as Kate Ross, one of Reed, Briggs's in-house investigators, got out of the elevator. Kate walked up to Miranda as she was saying her name for the third time and yanking on the doorknob. Kate took one look at the sign and ripped it, the pencil sharpener, and the bottle cap off of the wall.
'Shit,' Joe swore.
Kate said something to the young woman. They looked through the glass and stared coldly at Joe and Daniel. Miranda tapped in her code and opened the door. She flashed the two associates an angry look as she brushed past them.
Kate Ross was twenty-eight, five-foot-seven, and looked fit in tight jeans, an oxford blue shirt, and a navy- blue blazer. Kate stopped in front of the associates and held out the sign, bottle cap, and pencil sharpener. Her dark complexion, large brown eyes, and curly black, shoulder-length hair made Daniel think of those tough Israeli soldiers
