Silent Treatment

'Hodgkin's disease, actually. Thank God itwas in an early stage. It's been about six years now, so he's considered acure.'

He said it all so matter-of-factly, likeshe might talk about mixing paints. But Maura knew about school physicals andcamp physicals and such. She had had enough of them to know that most doctorsdid nothing but listen to your heart. But Harry hadn't dealt with Pavel Nemec'sson in such a cursory way. Harry had been. . Harry.

Maura reflected on what he had told her ofthe drama swirling around him at the hospital — the call from his friendAtwater asking him to remove himself from the staff; the hearing that was beingarranged to decide whether or not he would be allowed to continue to practicethere.

Harry Corbett didn't deserve that sort oftreatment, she thought angrily. She brushed her fingers across her feathery newhair and along the still-sensitive margins of her craniotomy scar. He alsodidn't deserve the treatment she had given him. Drinking again had beenpetulant, immature, and stupid. She was lucky he hadn't just handed her abottle and booted her out.

'No more,' she muttered, knowing that shehad failed to honor the same pledge many times before. 'That's it, lady. Notone more drop.'

She flipped through a few pages of Irishcountryside and felt her eyelids grow heavy. She wondered what it would feellike to be hypnotized — if it would feel like anything at all. O'Brien's Toweratop the Cliffs of Moher in County Clare blurred, then faded.

No more. The words echoed in her mind. Notone more drop. .

The aroma of brewing coffee worked its wayinto her consciousness. She opened her eyes a slit.

Pale morning light filtered into the denfrom between buildings. Harry sat on the easy chair beside the sofa. He wasdressed in gray sweats with a towel draped around his neck, and had obviouslyjust finished a workout. His dark hair glistened with sweat, and the color inhis cheeks made his rugged good looks just that much more appealing.

Maura reached over dreamily and squeezedhis hand.

'What time is it?' she said.

'After seven. We still have a while if youwant to doze off again. I'm just being selfish by waking you up like this.'

'Then I'll be even more selfish and stayawake.'

'How do you feel?'

'Sober.'

She knew it was the only word he reallywanted to hear.

'You ready to have your brain probed byThe Hungarian?'

'I am. He had just better be set to boldlygo where no man has gone before.'

'He's a wizard — at least that's what I'vebeen told. Hey, listen. Evie's three-hundred-dollar coffee-maker is hard atwork in the kitchen. The first thing she did after the wedding was to give awaymy Mr. Coffee. Hers goes to the gourmet shop by itself, mixes the perfectblend, then grinds, brews, and samples it.'

'With that build-up, I'm all taste buds.'

'How do you take it?'

'After yesterday you have to ask?'

Harry smiled.

'Black it is,' he said.

Maura had never paid a great deal ofattention to her looks. One ex-lover had said that was because she had neverhad to. Today, though, she took a bit more time than usual getting ready — alittle makeup, the enamel earrings Harry liked, and a cotton dress instead ofher trademark jeans.

She felt keyed up at the prospect of whatlay ahead — frightened that the session would be a bust, but almost equallyapprehensive about other possibilities. Over the two and a half years of herdownward spiral she had been a blackout drinker, with little regard for theplaces she went or the company she kept. Now she wondered just how selectivePavel Nemec could be in unlocking her memory. Most of what was hidden away inher subconscious might as well stay right where it was.

Nemec lived and worked at an address onthe Upper East Side. Before going there, she and Harry took a cab to hisoffice, stopping at her place to pick up an artist's sketch pad, some pencils,and some pastels, and at his bank to withdraw fifteen hundred dollars.

'I've canceled another half day at theoffice and gotten someone to make rounds on my patients in the hospital,' hetold her. 'Most of my practice is pretty loyal, I think. But I'm reallybeginning to put some of them to the test.'

She nodded sympathetically. 'This is theday,' she said. 'This is the day it all begins to turn around. Trust me. Hey,speaking of turning around, turn this way a bit. I want to try something.'

He did as she asked, and in less than twoblocks she had sketched a passable likeness of him. By the time they reachedthe office, the drawing was quite good.

'That's amazing,' he said.

'I can do better. But at least this tellsme I can do it at all. It's been a while. I actually once spent a summer inItaly doing sketches and caricatures for the tourists on the Piazza Navona.'

Walter Concepcion was already in thewaiting room, chatting with the woman behind the reception desk, whom Mauralearned was Mary Tobin. Maura was glad to see him again. Today he wore a blackT-shirt, and she noticed that his arms were sinewy and more muscular than shewould have expected. He had a tattoo over his left deltoid, artfully done, of askull with a serpent slithering out of one eye.

'They called from Dr. Erdman's office atthe hospital,' Mary said. 'The meeting is scheduled for ten tomorrow morning inthe conference room next to his office.'

Harry sighed.

'I guess you'll have to call my morningappointments and cancel them again.'

'I already did.'

'This is getting ridiculous. You know,maybe we should just close up shop for a while.'

The older woman's eyes flashed.

'You do,' she said, 'and I'm gonna find meone of those bamboo canes. You know, the ones that take flesh off with thesecond stroke. .'

'Okay, okay. We'll see what happenstomorrow.'

'Fine. I called your attorney to tell himthe time. He wants you to call him later today, but he said he'll be there.'

'At three hundred fifty an hour, whyshouldn't he be?'

'Pardon?'

'Nothing, Mary. Nothing. I'm just in myirritable idiot mode is all. It never lasts long.'

'Thank goodness,' she said.

Harry handed Concepcion the money in anenvelope. It was clear to Maura that Harry still had doubts about the man. Butshe had absolutely none. Walter had already given them a place to start — thefirst steps of a counterattack.

'Okay, we're in business,' Concepcionsaid, pocketing the envelope. 'And don't worry, Harry. Every dollar of thiswill be accounted for on paper — receipts and all. I actually think we got offto a running start last night. After I got home I called about forty escortservices. My line to them was that a woman named Desiree had given me the nightof my life when I was last in town six months ago. Unfortunately for me, afriend had made the arrangements, and I had no way of getting hold of him forthe name of the escort service. Money was no problem, but only if it was forDesiree. Three of the services made it sound as if they knew her. They saidthey'd try to get in touch with her and I should call back. A fourth one,Elegance, said she wasn't working for them anymore. That's the one I'm homingin on.'

'Why that one?' Maura asked.

'Because the woman I spoke to initiallygave me vague answers about Desiree. She took my number and said I'd be called.About an hour later, a different woman called. She said her name was Page. Ithink she runs the business. We played cat and mouse for a time. I mentionedmoney as often as I could. She denied knowing anyone named Desiree as often asshe could. Finally I told her that I knew Desiree was dead, and I just wantedsome