“No,” Jesse said. “Of course they don’t. They’re just subject matter.”
Healy nodded.
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H I G H P R O F I L E
“Ellen Migliore,” Jesse said. “Who’s divorced from Walton twenty years or more. She’s the only one.”
“I wonder why she cares?” Healy said.
“Something ulterior?” Jesse said.
“Doesn’t hurt to think about it,” Healy said.
“No,” Jesse said. “It doesn’t.”
“Except then it leaves nobody who cares,” Healy said. Jesse looked at his coffee cup for a moment. Then he looked up at Healy.
“You and me,” Jesse said. “We care.”
“We’re supposed to,” Healy said.
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32
Jonah Levy held his office door for Jesse and waited until Jesse was seated before closing it and going to his own desk.
“Dix called me,” Dr. Levy said, “on your behalf.”
“Good,” Jesse said.
“He says you are a very smart man.”
“He would know,” Jesse said.
“How can I help you?”
“Did you treat Walton Weeks?” Jesse said.
“Myself and my colleagues.”
“For infertility?”
H I G H P R O F I L E
“Yes.”
“Successfully,” Jesse said.
“I gather that he had fathered a child before his death,”
Levy said.
“Yes. With Carey Longley.”
“We worked with her as well,” Levy said.
He was a small man in a gray suit and white shirt. His hair was receding. His glasses had gold rims. His tie was flamboyantly red and gold.
