shower cap, was on her head and the whole left side of her face was concealed by gauze. Her hands and arms were covered with plastic bags.
He gasped in horror as he saw her blackened hands, burned like an overcooked joint. He held onto the door jamb for support.
She looked awful and the expression on his face registered his shock and disbelief. His Chrissy.
At least she was unconscious and pumped full of drugs for the moment. For the moment.
Hi-tec machines surrounding the bed monitored her functions. Kovaks looked quickly at the displays. They all seemed to be pinging healthily enough.
He took a deep breath and approached the bed.
He wasn’t sure how long it was that he stood there. Two minutes. Could have been twenty.
‘ Mr Kovaks?’
He jumped back into the real world and turned round. A young man in a classy suit offered a hand. Kovaks took it and they shook. Kovaks’ puzzlement was cleared up when the man said, ‘I’m the surgeon who operated on Chrissy. Dr Jefferson. I believe you’re her boyfriend?’
‘ We live together as man and wife. We were going to get married.’
‘ Right, right.’
‘ So, how is she? No bullshit, please.’
‘ Come — let’s discuss it out here.’ He indicated the corridor.
Kovaks followed him out, amazed at how young and inexperienced he appeared. He couldn’t have been over thirty, with a face like a baby, all chubby and rubicund. But he exuded an air of confidence and ability that Kovaks found reassuring, coupled with an outwardly relaxed persona.
The doctor leaned against the wall and waited for a couple of chattering nurses to pass. He cleared his throat. ‘Right… obviously she’s very badly burned. The device, or whatever you want to call it, was designed to pour out a flash of flame as the recipient opened the envelope. Normally that would result in hand, facial and neck burns. I say normally because most recipients would probably be fully clothed when opening mail. Chrissy hadn’t got dressed.’
‘ Which makes it worse?’ The doctor nodded.
‘ She works late.’ Kovaks felt he had to explain her nakedness for some reason. ‘She’d probably got straight out of bed when she heard it fall through the door. We can hear mail coming in quite clearly from the bedroom. ‘
The surgeon shrugged. ‘Whatever.’ He went on: ‘The problem is that there was no protection whatsoever from any clothing. Therefore much of her chest, upper arms and neck were burned as well as her hands and face. It was actually the left side of her face that took the brunt of the flames. The right side is hardly touched at all. A great deal of her hair has been burned off too.’
‘ So what’s the bottom line? What’s the future?’
‘ At this early stage it’s difficult to say. She will be badly scarred, but plastic surgery can do wonders. She’ll be OK physically. Her eyes are unharmed and in itself, her body remains in good shape. It’s the mental side that’ll be the biggest problem. All I can say is this: don’t think too much of the future at the moment. Let’s take each day as it comes. She’ll need a great deal of support,’ he added.
Kovaks nodded. His eyes watered over. ‘She’ll get it,’ he said resolutely, biting his bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears.
The doctor laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Good man. Does she have some family?’
‘ Chicago. I’ll speak to them.’
‘ OK. I don’t think there’s much point in you staying around here at this time, Mr Kovaks. She’ll be sleeping for many hours yet. If you want to be here when she wakes up, come in tomorrow about eight a.m. But go and get some rest yourself. You’ve had a very exacting day so far and you’ll need all your strength for Chrissy… won’t you?’ He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
‘ Yeah, you’re right,’ said Kovaks, acknowledging the sense. ‘Look, if you don’t mind I’ll have a few more minutes with her before I go.’
‘ By all means.’ They shook hands again. ‘Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘ Thanks, Doc.’
He watched the surgeon walk away and thought that he rather liked the man. Talked straight from the hip, as it were. He believed Chrissy was in safe hands, which took a weight off his mind.
Kovaks spent a few minutes sat by Chrissy’s bed, staring blankly at her, listening to the shallow breathing, his mind in turmoil. He wondered what the future would hold for them. Not eight hours ago it was very rosy. Now it was all upside down, with its guts twisted out and fed to the scavengers. In his mind’s eye he kept seeing her opening the package, just as he’d done. The whoosh of the flames. Her screams of terror.
Bastard. Whoever had done it. Bastard. It was a warning, wasn’t it? And at that moment in his life, there was only one possible source — Corelli. The Mafia godfather had just told the FBI to go fuck themselves.
At the door he took one last look at Chrissy. She stirred momentarily, then moaned slightly. He willed his thoughts to transfer from his mind to hers, to penetrate the pain and the drugged state. I will be there for you, he told her. Whatever happens, whatever the outcome. And whoever has done this to you will suffer. They have bitten off more than they can chew. I’ll find them, I promise you, and justice will be done. I promise you. I love you.
With that he turned and walked out.
In the hospital foyer his heart dropped as he saw the waiting, predatory figure of Lisa Want, accompanied by a photographer. The camera flashed a dozen times.
Then Lisa Want swooped on him like an osprey on a fish. Her portable tape-recorder was running.
‘ How is she, Joe?’
Kovaks stopped dead and opened his hands wide as if to say, ‘Got me.’
He looked levelly at her, then said, ‘If you don’t get out of my way, Ms Want, I’ll break that fuckin’ tape- recorder over your head and shove the batteries right up your pretty little ass — and you can quote me.’ He shoved past her.
Unfazed, she persisted. ‘Agent Kovaks, is it true that you also received a letter bomb, which failed to explode?’
No reply. It was true, of course. But how the hell did she know? ‘Is it also true that it was wired not to explode?’
No reply. But also true. According to the bomb disposal expert who’d defused the device, it was a real live bomb but wired purposely not to detonate. Its sole purpose, therefore, was to frighten its recipient. But again, how the hell did she know? The office had decided that news of this package would not be released to the media, so who had told her?
‘ Why do you think you received the bomb? Is someone warning or threatening you to keep off a case? Is this all connected with your ongoing investigation into the Corelli crime family? How do you feel? Are you intimidated? Has Chrissy regained consciousness yet? Can we get in for a photograph of her? How is your investigation progressing? Are you going to answer any of these fucking questions or not? Come on, Joe, give me something!’
Kovaks paused at the door. ‘Turn that off,’ he said, pointing to the tape-recorder.
Meekly, she obliged.
‘ It’s quite obvious to me that you’ve already been given something, Lisa. Some of the questions you’ve asked indicate to me that someone ill the FBI office in Miami is feeding you stuff you shouldn’t know. I haven’t a clue who it is and I don’t think you’ll tell me’ — here she opened her mouth to protest — ‘no, don’t speak,’ he ordered her. ‘Let me finish. I know you’ll deny it and that’s fair enough, but I’ll tell you this: when I find out who it is, whoever it is, regardless of rank, gender, race, length of service, length of penis, whatever, whoever — when I find them, they’ll wish they’d never been born, never joined the FBI, never fucked you. Their feet won’t touch the fuckin’ ground — and nor will yours, because I’ll go for your throat too and you’ll be before a court faster than you come. Now, if you want to turn that machine back on, I’ll give you a comment.’
Speechless, she pressed the record buttons.
‘ No comment,’ he said, smiled, turned and walked out of the hospital.
