Silent Treatment

not much better in the cars. And what if he was unluckyenough to get one of the old un-air-conditioned ones? Perhaps some pre-existingcondition caused his heart to just crap out. On the other hand, perhaps theywere being watched all the time at Battery Park. Perhaps Stallings hadrecognized someone from The Roundtable in the subway. Perhaps they had donesomething to him.

Dammit, James, what in hellhappened? hismind screamed. What am I supposed to do?

'Thank you for being so patient, Mr.Loomis.'

Vicky Stallings had washed her face andput on a bit of makeup.

'It's Kevin,' he said. 'This is so sad. Dohis doctors have any idea what could have happened?'

'I'd be happy to talk with you, Kevin,'she whispered. 'But I would prefer doing it in the family room. It's doubtfulJim can hear, but there's always the chance.'

'I understand.'

They returned to the small room. Wile E.Coyote was lashing himself to a huge rocket just as the Road Runner wasflashing past. Kevin reached up and flicked the set off.

'You don't have to talk about this with meif it's too painful,' he said.

'There's not much to say, actually. Thedoctors have said there's no hope. They estimate his heart stopped for eight ornine minutes. People were doing CPR, but I guess it wasn't enough. The rescuesquad finally got him going.'

'Was he, I mean, did he have any heartproblems before?'

Kevin sensed how desperate he was hopingfor a positive answer.

'Kevin, Jim ran last year's New YorkMarathon in three and a half hours. About six months ago he took out a largeinsurance policy. They required a stress test. Jim said he did so well that thedoctor who performed it eventually had to stop the test to go on to the nextpatient.'

A large insurance policy. Reflexively, Kevin ran throughhis own coverage. As soon as he joined The Roundtable, he had beefed it up. Twomillion five with an additional half a million for accidental death.

'He always looked fit to me,' he said.

'The doctors say that maybe it was hispotassium dropping due to the heat and sweating. Apparently the heart is verysensitive to potassium. It depends on what he was doing for the hour or sobefore. .'

Vicky Stallings's voice once more grewstrained. Kevin could see that she was precariously close to coming apartagain. In fact, he was rather close himself. Stallings's death was nocoincidence, any more than Evelyn DellaRosa's or the knight named Sir Lionel'swas a coincidence. Somehow, they had followed Stallings, or perhaps even Kevin,to Battery Park. Then somehow they had gotten to him. Now, he was a vegetable.The unflappable Sir Gawaine. Kevin wondered if he, too, had gone out and boughta new house as soon as his appointment to The Roundtable was a fact.

Kevin wanted to scream. He made a pretenceof glancing at his watch. Vicky Stallings saved him any embarrassment.

'I really appreciate your coming likethis, Kevin,' she said, again reaching out to shake his hand. 'And who knows?It will take a miracle, but there have been miracles before. Many of them.'

'I'll be praying for him,' Kevin said,backing out of the room. He felt light-headed and desperately wanted a drink.

Kevin stopped in the first bar he passed,downed a couple of quick vodka tonics and then returned to Crown. BrendaWallace had some letters for him to sign and a list of calls to return. Hewatched her move about her office, tanned and lithe and utterly sensual. BurtDreiser had the corner office, the yacht, and Brenda Wallace. When hadBurt decided he could handle whatever The Roundtable wanted of him? Had he beenpart of the planning that put the whole program together? And most important,why in the hell couldn't Kevin be like him?

He finished his work and sat for a time,staring out at the city. Then he picked up the phone and called George Illych,the underwriter at Crown who had handled all of his policies.

'George, Kevin Loomis is here. How goesit?'

'Hey, fine, Kevin. What can I do for you?'

Kevin pictured George Illych leaning backin his chair, looking longingly at his beloved Winstons. A jovial, overweightbilliard and golf hustler, Illych smoked two packs a day and was one of thepoorest insurance risks Kevin knew.

'Nancy and I have just bought a house inPort Chester.'

'Hey great, that's great. First the bigpromotion, then the big house.'

'Then the big coverage. George, I'vedecided, with the new house and my income up near $300,000 counting bonuses,that I want a bit more coverage.'

'Hey, no problem. What did we write for you recently?'

'A million. That was four months ago. Myphysical's still good, yes?'

'Up to six months. How much do you havetotal?'

'This million would make it three and ahalf.' Plus an additional $500,000 accidental, he added, but didn't say.

'All to Nancy?'

'Yes.'

'Hey, pal, no problem. I'll have thepaperwork up to you within a couple of days.'

'Perfect. Thanks, George.'

'How about shooting a little pool afterwork sometime soon?'

'Pool against you? I couldn't afford it,George.'

'Hey, wait a minute. You just became thethree-and-a-half-million-dollar man.'

'That's only if I'm dead, George.' Oh,yeah. You've got a point there.'

Half an hour later Brenda Wallace stoppedby to say goodnight. Kevin quickly stacked the papers he had been working onand slid them inside his desk drawer. There was nothing further, he toldBrenda. She gave him one of her most dazzling smiles before heading home.

Kevin opened his briefcase and took out anewspaper clipping about Evelyn DellaRosa. He was looking at her picture whenhe dialed Harry Corbett's line.

'Corbett, this is the man you calledearlier,' he said to Harry's answering machine. 'I want to talk to you. Be hometomorrow morning at nine. I'll call.'

He set the articles back in his briefcaseand then tossed the drawings he had been making in on top of them. They were aseries of diagrams and sketches of the basement of his house in Queens, mostparticularly emphasizing the position of the washing machine, dryer, bulkheadentryway, and especially the electrical power source.

Chapter31

It was nearly midnight when Harry heardMaura's soft knock on his partially open bedroom door. He was lying on hisback, wide awake, trying to will himself to sleep. But he was still far too keyedup. Things were continuing to break for them, as they had since the momentMaura convinced him to hire Walter Concepcion. Now the insurance executiveKevin Loomis had left a message on his answering machine. He wanted to talk. Inthe morning he was going to call. Bit by bit the circle was closing. Step byminuscule step, they were drawing closer to Evie and Andy Barlow's killer.

'Come on in, I'm awake,' he said.

'I just wanted to see if I could talk youinto some tea, and maybe a little company.'

Wearing loose cotton pants and a tank top,she stood in the doorway, framed by the light behind her. If her goal at thatmoment was to look alluring and incredibly sexy, she has succeeded admirably.Harry pushed himself up and motioned her to a spot on the bed a fairly safedistance away.

'No tea, thanks, but a little companywould be fine.'