Byrne nodded. 'He must have.'
Jessica thought about it. At any given time, any detective on the force might be the subject of a stalker- current investigations, old investigations, crazy people you put away years ago getting out of prison. She thought about Walt Brigham's body on the side of the road. Anything could happen at any time.
'He was going to do it right where his wife was killed,' Byrne said. 'Me first, then himself.'
'Jesus.'
'Yeah, well. There's more.'
Jessica couldn't imagine what he meant. 'What do you mean, more?'
Byrne sipped his coffee. 'I saw him.'
'You saw him? You saw who?'
'Our doer.'
'What? What are you talking about?'
'At the Shawmont site. He was across the river, just watching me.'
'How do you know it was him?'
Byrne stared into his coffee for a moment. 'The way you know anything in this job. It was him.'
'Did you get a good look at him?'
Byrne shook his head. 'No. He was on the other side of the river. In the rain.'
'What did he do?'
'He didn't do anything. I think he wanted to come back to the scene, and figured the other side of the river would be safe.'
Jessica considered this. It was common enough, coming back like that.
'That's why I called Nick to begin with,' Byrne said. 'If I hadn't…'
Jessica knew what he meant. If he hadn't called it in he might be laying on the floor in the Crystal Diner, ringed by a pool of blood.
'Did we hear from the bird breeders in Delaware yet?' Byrne asked, clearly attempting to shift the focus.
'Nothing yet,' Jessica said. 'I was thinking we should look into subscription lists to bird breeding magazines. There can't be that many subscribers in-'
'Tony's already on it,' Byrne said.
Jessica should have known. Even in the middle of all this Byrne was thinking. He sipped his coffee, turned to her, half smiled. 'And how was your day?' he asked.
Jessica smiled back. She hoped it looked genuine. 'Far less adventurous, thank God.' She related the morning and afternoon at the thrift stores, about meeting Roland Hannah. 'I've got him looking at mugs right now. He operates a church thrift store. He might have sold our boy the dresses.'
Byrne drained his coffee, stood. 'I've got to get out of here,' he said. 'I mean, I like this place, but not this much.'
'The boss wants you to go home.'
'I'm fine,' Byrne said.
'You sure?'
Byrne didn't answer. A few moments later a uniformed officer crossed the diner, handed Byrne his weapon. Byrne could tell from its heft that the magazine had been replaced. When Nick Palladino had listened to Byrne and Matthew Clarke on Byrne's open cell-phone line, he had dispatched a sector car to the Shawmont site to retrieve the weapon. Philly didn't need another gun on the street.
'Where's our Amish detective?' Byrne asked Jessica.
'Josh is working the bookstores, seeing if anybody remembers selling books on bird breeding, exotic birds and the like.'
'He's all right,' Byrne said.
Jessica didn't know what to say. Coming from Kevin Byrne, this was high praise.
'What are you going to do now?' Jessica asked.
'Well, I am going to go home, but just to take a hot shower and change clothes. Then I'm going to hit the streets. Maybe somebody else saw this guy standing on the other side of the river. Or saw his car pull over.'
'Want some help?' she asked.
'No, I'm good. You stick with the rope and the bird breeders. I'll call you in an hour.'
54
Byrne took Hollow Road down to the river. He passed beneath the expressway, parked the car, got out. The hot shower had done him some good, but unless the man for whom they were looking was still standing there, on the bank of the river, hands behind his back, waiting to be cuffed, this was going to be a shitty day. But then every day you had a gun pointed at you was a shitty day.
The rain had let up, but the ice remained. It all but covered the city. Byrne made his way carefully down the slope to the edge of the river. He stood between two barren trees, directly across from the pump house, the hum of the cars on the expressway behind him. He looked at the pump house. Even from this distance, the structure was imposing.
He stood in the exact spot where the man who had been watching him had stood. He thanked God that the man in question was not a sniper. Byrne imagined someone with a scope rifle standing there, leaning on the tree for balance. He could have picked Byrne off with ease.
He looked at the ground in the immediate area. No cigarette butts, no convenient glossy candy wrappers to dust for prints.
Byrne crouched down on the riverbank. The flowing water was just inches away. He leaned forward, touched a finger to the freezing current and-
— saw a man carrying Tara Grendel up to the pump house… a featureless man staring at the moon… a length of blue and white rope in his hands… heard the sound of a small boat slapping against stone… saw two flowers, one white, one red, and-
— pulled his hand back, as if the water had been on fire. The images were getting stronger, clearer, more unnerving.
In rivers, the water that you touch is the last of what has passed and the first of that which comes.
Something was coming.
Two flowers.
A few seconds later his cell phone rang. Byrne stood, flipped open the phone, answered. It was Jessica.
'There's another victim,' she said.
Byrne glanced down, at the dark intractable water of the Schuylkill. He knew, but asked anyway. 'On the river?'
'Yeah, partner,' she said. 'On the river.'
55
They met on the bank of the Schuylkill River, near the oil refineries in the Southwest. The crime scene was partially hidden from both the river and the nearby bridge. The acrid smell of effluent from the refineries filled the air, their lungs.
The primary detectives on the case were Ted Campos and Bobby Lauria. These two had been partners forever. The old cliche about finishing each other's sentences was true, but it went beyond that with Ted and Bobby. One time they had even gone shopping separately and bought the same tie. Once they found out, of course, they never wore the ties. They weren't too crazy about the story being told, for that matter. It was all a little too Brokeback Mountain for the likes of a pair of old- school tough guys like Bobby Lauria and Ted Campos.
Byrne, Jessica, and Josh Bontrager pulled up to find a pair of sector cars, about fifty yards apart, sealing the
