Silent Treatment

Now it was Santana who lashed out.

'Harry, don't be an ass. We're dealing withkillers, here. Not college professors, not social workers — killers. Got that?These people don't stand around and let someone escort them to thepolice. They kill. It's too bad about Barlow. He shouldn't've died. But get itthrough your head — it wasn't my fault.'

'You're dangerous, Santana,' Harry snappedback. 'A walking stick of dynamite with a short fuse. You don't really care whogets blown away as long as Anton Perchek goes along with them.'

'You've got that right, brother.'

'Well, I might get booted out of myhospital because of what you've done, brother.'

'Come on, Harry,' Santana said. 'You mightget reprimanded, but you won't get kicked out. Your lawyer's too good. Listen,we'll go take the posters down. They've been up most of the night now, and thatmeans they've already succeeded in rankling Perchek, which is pretty much whatI wanted them to do.'

'Rankling Perchek. You really are a piece ofwork,' Harry said, not at all kindly. 'Have you heard how many times thegoddamn phone has rung since you got here? That's a growing percentage of allthe nutcases in Manhattan, each one convinced I can be conned out of fiftythousand dollars. Rankling Perchek. Santana, just get out of here. I'mhaving enough trouble with my enemies without getting blindsided by myso-called friends.'

Maura had heard enough.

'Listen, you two,' she snapped. 'Sit downand shut up for a minute, both of you. I don't care how you feel about oneanother, but neither of you operating alone has much chance of getting thisPerchek. Harry, you're a doctor, not a cop. And Ray, you can't get insidehospitals, and that's where your man is. You two need one another. Face it.'

Harry glared at Santana. Maura stalkedacross the room and stood over him, hands on hips.

'Do you guys want me to make you shakehands like we used to do after fights in junior high school? Okay, then. Westick together, and we try to clear things with one another before we do them.Deal?'

'Deal,' the two men grumbled.

'Well, come on, then,' Maura cut in beforethey could get started again. 'We've got some posters to take down.'

A small crowd clustered around thebulletin board outside the MMC surgical suite. There were nurses, technicians,and physicians, including an anesthesiologist, an ENT specialist, and Caspar Sidonis.Everyone, it seemed, was talking at once about the posters that had appearedovernight throughout the hospital.

'You know,' one of the nurses said,pointing to the rendering of Perchek with a beard, 'I actually think I've seenthis guy.'

'Janine,' another nurse said, 'since youkicked Billy out last year you've seen most of the guys in the city.'

'Not funny,' Janine said.

'I agree, Janine,' Sidonis said. 'Andneither is this. . this latest humiliation for our hospital.' At the firstwords from the cardiac surgical chief, all extraneous conversation stopped.'Everyone in the hospital knows that Harry Corbett killed his wife. He couldn'tstand the thought of losing her and so he killed her. It's as simple as that.These drawings are just a smoke screen, a misdirection play. The man isabsolutely certifiable, and so is the woman who drew these. They are theproduct of an alcoholic's distorted mind, and nothing more. You'll all see.I've had it up to here with Corbett and the way he's manipulating everyone inthis place. Fifty-thousand-dollar reward, indeed.'

Embarrassed by the surgeon's ramblingoutburst and the stories they all knew about his involvement with the murderedwoman, the crowd quickly dispersed. As Sidonis turned to go, he nearly collidedwith a man in a full-length lab coat, whose photo badge identified him asHeinrich Hauser, a research professor from the department of endocrinology.

'I agree with you completely, Doctor,'Hauser said in a dense German accent. 'This Corbett makes trouble foreveryone.'

'Thank you, Doctor,' Sidonis replied.

He glanced at the man, who was four orfive inches shorter than he was, with gray-white, crew-cut hair, thick glasses,and yellowed teeth. The teeth disgusted Sidonis. Instinctively, he backed away,fearing a blast of bad breath. He had not seen the man before that he couldremember, but he seldom took notice of anyone with whom he didn't haveimportant business.

'Have a good day, now,' Hauser said.

'Yes. You, too.' Sidonis paused and lookedat the man once more. 'Have we met?'

The man's ocher smile prompted Sidonis tolook away.

'I don't think so, Doctor,' he said. 'Butperhaps we shall meet again sometime.'

Chapter33

By nightfall the three-day heat wave hadyielded to a pleasant summer rain. Harry left the apartment at ten- thirty andtook a cab to the East Side. As instructed, he was wearing a baseball-style cap- the only one he could find in the apartment. It was Evie's from herWashington days, navy blue with U.S. Senate in gold just above the brim.After reading the introduction to Desiree's book, Between the Sheets, hecouldn't help but wonder if the cap was a trophy.

Harry had been loudly rebuked by OwenErdman for breaking their agreement and putting up the posters. But as Santanahad predicted, he did not appear to be in danger of losing his staff privilegesso long as they were taken down promptly. Harry would do MMC. Santana and theman he had hired to help cover every hospital in the city would take care ofthe six others they had done so far.

When they had left Harry's apartment,there was still a good deal of tension lingering between the two of them. Harryfelt he could no longer trust Ray Santana to act in anyone's interest but hisown. To his credit, Santana did not dispute that point. But he maintained thatany sacrifice, by anyone, that resulted in The Doctor's death would have beenworth it.

They briefly considered bringing AlbertDickinson up to speed on the developments in the case. But neither of them werein favor of doing that. The chances of getting anything helpful from him weresignificantly lower than the chances of his causing more trouble for them.Perchek was arrogant and fearless, but he was not foolish. Dickinson would morethan likely end up driving him underground — perhaps the worst thing that couldhappen. Since it was still not at all clear what The Doctor was doing inManhattan or how he came to kill Evie, there was no way of predicting how longhe would stick around.

While Harry and Santana were off to teardown posters, Maura stayed at the apartment to screen phone calls. There was asteady flow of them now at about two or three an hour. Most of the calls wereclearly cranks. But some sounded interesting. Maura dutifully logged each oneand promised to get back to the caller.

With fifteen minutes to go before he wasto meet Kevin Loomis, Harry paid the cabby off at Park and Fifty-first andwalked the remaining blocks. Although he wasn't particularly worried aboutbeing followed, he had not forgotten his experience in Desiree's apartment. Hecut down to Forty-ninth and back, pausing in several doorways to survey thestreet. Nothing. It was a garbage collection night, and the light raindid little to wash away the stench from the mountains of plastic bags awaitingpickup. It had been a while since the last protracted garbage strike inManhattan. On summer nights like this, he could understand why they seldom wentunresolved for very long.

Traffic was light, and the intersection ofFifty-first and Third was nearly deserted. With Evie's U.S. Senate cap pulledlow over his eyes, Harry leaned against a light post and waited. At exactly11:05, a Yellow cab pulled up. The front passenger door swung open.

'Get in, Doctor,' the driver said, hisvoice like number thirty-six sandpaper.

'You Loomis?' Harry asked as the cabpulled away and headed uptown.

'Nope.' The driver said nothing more untilthey neared Fifth Avenue at Fifty-seventy. 'As soon as I'm across Fifth, jumpout and hurry up to the corner of Sixtieth. You'll be picked up there. I'vealready been paid, so just get out quickly and go.'