keys. With the first touch of metal on metal, Rocky was on hisfeet.
'Doc, you scared the crap out of me,' hesaid, opening the inside door. 'I thought everyone in the building was tuckedin for the night. When did you go out?'
'What do you mean?'
'Well, I didn't see you go out after thatChinese food you ordered was delivered.'
Harry felt his pulse jump.
'You sure it was me the food was for?'
'Of course I'm sure.'
'Did you buzz me before you sent thedelivery man up?' he asked.
'I … um … I think I did.'
'And did the guy go right out?'
Rocky was clearly beginning to panic. Hewas also clearly about to lie.
'Sure,' he said. 'He went right up andcame right down.'
Harry headed for the elevator.
'Rocky, what time was that?'
'I don't know, Doc. Ten, maybe. Eleven.Why?'
Harry stepped into the elevator and heldthe door open.
'Because, Rocky,' he said, more testilythan he had meant, 'I haven't been home all night, and I didn't order anyChinese food.'
The apartment door was locked, but thatmeant nothing. They had a police lock, but he and Evie never bothered using itunless they were home. Once, when Evie had locked her keys inside, the superhad gotten her in with a credit card. Harry thought about calling the policewithout going inside. But he was exhausted and the cops might take hours to getthere.
He opened the door slowly, expectingdarkness. Lights were on in the foyer and, it appeared, in every room as well.Even from where he stood, he could see that the place had been ransacked. Heconsidered the possiblity that the intruder was still inside. A sane personwould definitely retreat to the lobby and call the police from there. But atthat moment, Harry was feeling anything but sane. He stalked down the hall halfhoping the man would jump out at him. He desperately needed someone to hit.
The apartment was empty, the carnageextensive. Every painting had been removed from the wall, every drawer openedand emptied. The mattresses had been moved and all the contents of all theclosets thrown on to them. Even the rugs had been lifted. It was as if theintruder was searching for a safe. If so, he had to be disappointed. They keptlittle cash in the apartment, and Evie's most precious jewels — by far theirmost extravagant possessions — were in a safe-deposit box. Still, it seemedthat a number of the most valuable portable items they owned had been taken.Evie's jewel box had been emptied. Her mink coat was gone, as was their silver,some crystal, and several small pieces of art, including a Picasso drawing Eviehad taken from her first marriage that was worth maybe fifteen thousanddollars.
But it was in the small study that themost thorough work had been done. The desk drawers had been emptied and thecontents screened and quite carefully set in a pile by one wall. The drawersthemselves had been broken apart, the seat of the desk chair slashed. Everybook from the floor-to-ceiling shelves had been opened, examined, and tossedaside. There was something wrong, Harry thought, pushing some of the mess asidewith his foot. This was a robbery, all right, but a robbery with a purpose.
He wandered into the kitchen. That roomhad been ransacked as rudely and thoroughly as the rest of the place. Hesurveyed the wreckage for several minutes before noticing the four unopenedwhite cartons on the table. Each contained a Chinese dish, now cold. Set atopone of them, in a stapled waxpaper holder, was a fortune cookie. Harry's firstimpulse was to heave it and the rest of the food against a wall. Instead hecracked it open.
Chapter10
It was almost eight when Harry finallyleft the wreckage of his apartment and took the crosstown bus back to thehospital. The two policemen who had been sent in response to his call had triedfor a few fingerprints, but in the main, their crime-scene check wasuninspired. A robbery in a Manhattan apartment was clearly of little moreinterest to them than a derelict shaking the coins in his cardboard cup atpassersby on the street.
The officers' conclusion, arrived at aftera half hour, was that this was a run-of-the-mill B and E by a professionalthief who might or might not have known Harry would be staying late at thehospital. They brushed aside Harry's concern that the thief had another agenda,and told him that the best he could hope for was that some of the stolen itemssurfaced at a pawnshop or fence known to the police. Meanwhile, Harry would bedoing the smart thing to get what he could from his insurance company, replacewhatever he wanted to, and bank any money left over.
Harry crossed the MMC lobby and headeddown the corridor toward the Alexander Building elevators. All around him, itwas business as usual. He wondered how many hundreds, even thousands offamilies he had passed over the years who were heading into the hospital justas he was today, to see a spouse or child or parent for the last time. His lifewith Evie had been strained and emotionally barren for a long time. But untillast night, he had never completely stopped believing that they would somehowmake it back to the way it once had been between them.
As he passed the nurse's station onAlexander 9, he was aware of the sideways glances and changes in conversations.No doubt the tale of Caspar Sidonis's accusation had already reached theoutermost branches of the hospital grapevine. He had never enjoyed being thesubject of gossip, negative or positive. Now, he shuddered to think of thedistortions the Sidonis story had undergone from one retelling to the next; thesimple truth was bad enough. He also knew that unless explanations surfaced forthe telephone order that established Evie's IV and for Maura Hughes's mysterydoc, there would be more tales to come. Many more.
Evie's parents, Carmine and DorothyDellaRosa, were seated silently at Evie's bedside. A retired postman and anadministrative secretary, married well over forty years, they were pillars ofthe Catholic church in their small New Jersey town. They were also as ordinaryand reserved as their daughter was vibrant and spectacular. Evie was their onlychild.
Harry shook hands with Carmine and kissedDorothy on the cheek. The couple had always been cordial enough toward him, butcould not at their most open ever be considered warm.
'We think Evelyn moved her arms,' Dorothysaid.
'She might have. There are reflexes thatcause muscles to contract. They don't really mean anything though, Dorothy. Ican't let you think they do.' Harry gestured to Maura's bed, which was emptyand freshly made. 'Where's the woman who was here?'
'Down the hall in a new room, poor soul,'Dorothy responded. 'The nurses said a bed just came open. They didn't want herdisturbing these. . these moments.'
Harry knew that unless he asked CarmineDellaRosa a direct question, and then only one he was uniquely qualified toanswer, Carmine would let his wife do the speaking for the two of them. Harryhad decided against sharing news of the break-in. Sooner or later he might haveto, but at the moment they were already upset enough by the tragedy and byHarry's decision to have Evie's organs donated.
On the bed beside them, Evie laypeacefully. Her eyes were taped shut, and she remained attached to a ventilatorand IV. But the treatments to reduce brain swelling — hyperventilation to lowerher carbon dioxide level and raise her blood pH, and diuretics to inducedehydration — had been stopped. A second set of required tests — cerebralblood-flow scan, EEG, and attempts at making her breathe spontaneously — hadall confirmed the diagnosis of functional brain death.
Now, there was only the matter of sayinggood-bye and having an attending physician pronounce her officially dead. Thenthe people from the New York Regional Transplant Services would take over. Hetook Evie's hand and held it for a time, wondering if the DellaRosas had heardanything yet of Caspar Sidonis. Before long they would.
