Silent Treatment

'I'm filled with hate, Ray. It wouldn't bethat hard for me to kill either of them.'

'One less thing for me to worry about.'

Harry had never been inside Doug Atwater'shouse, but he had seen it from the water and from the land. Three years before,Harry had rented a yacht for a surprise party for Evie's birthday. The boat washuge — large enough to hold the combo from the club and about forty guests,with room to spare. It was chartered for a circumnavigation of ManhattanIsland, and was by far the most extravagant thing Harry had ever done. Buttheir marriage was already crumbling over his conservative lifestyle, and hewas desperate to make a statement. That evening was the last time he couldremember Evie seeming truly happy.

Atwater had shown up for the affair withhis usual gorgeous blonde du jour — an actress of some sort, Harryrecalled. Sandi? Patti? She and Harry were standing alone by the rail atdusk, watching the Palisades of New Jersey glide by, when suddenly she begangesturing wildly at a spectacular modern house built on the very brink of oneof them.

'That's Dougie's!' she exclaimed. 'That'sDougie's house. See that deck? We had mimosas out there this morning. Youwouldn't believe the view. Have you ever been there?'

In fact, until that moment Harry had knownonly that Atwater lived in an elegant penthouse on East Forty- ninth Street.They had met there several times when he and Evie had gone out with Atwater andhis date. Curious about the house, he glanced back across at the New York sideof the river and fixed a couple of landmarks in his mind. Later in the evening,the captain used his navigational charts to pinpoint the spot exactly. It wasnot very far from Fort Lee. Harry had considered mentioning the house toAtwater, but now he felt certain that he never had. He and Atwater werefriendly, but obviously not that close, because Harry had never been invitedover.

A month or two later, after visiting hismother in the nursing home, Harry had found himself just a few miles from wherehe thought the house to be. It was surprisingly easy to find — a sprawling,California-style mansion at the crest of a rising, tree-lined driveway at leasta hundred yards long. The massive wrought-iron gate at the end of the drive wasclosed. A six-foot-high, fieldstone-in-cement wall stretched along the roadwayin both directions, giving the impression that the entire property wasenclosed. He did not consider dropping in.

But tonight, he and Santana would pay acall.

'Pull off at the next rest area,' Santanasaid. 'You need to get ready, and I need to check this sight out.'

Despite his gaunt physical appearance andnervous tics, Ray had always seemed somewhat cocky and self- assured. Butfollowing Harry's conversation with Sean Garvey, he had become withdrawn andsubdued. The tic at the corner of his mouth had diminished until it was just afaint suggestion, and his hands were rock steady. Harry bet that this wasexactly the way Santana had looked as he crouched, aimed, and fired that nightin Central Park.

He pulled off into a sparsely occupiedrest stop. Santana tossed him a black turtleneck, ammo vest, and watch cap, anda small jar of black greasepaint labeled Nightstalker.

'Don't forget the backs of your hands,' hesaid as he left the camper cradling the rifle in a canvas wrap.

Outside, the rain had begun fallingharder. To the east, in the distance, lightning glinted off the blackening sky.

Harry set the clothes beside his seat. Evie,Andy Barlow, Sidonis, Maura? He was ready to fight — ready for whatever.But there was one more piece of business he had to take care of before theyheaded into battle — a phone call.

Kevin Loomis glanced up at the clock andtried to imagine what the mounting flood in the basement was looking like. Rainhad forced the barbecue indoors, but it really didn't matter. Everything wasmoving along as he had planned. It wouldn't be long now.

It had been about thirty minutes since heleft the party through the backdoor, ostensibly to get a scorecard from hisgolfbag in the garage. He grabbed the card, which he had set by the garagedoor, then cut around the side of the house to dislodge the washing machinehose. His setup worked even better than he expected. One tug on the heavy twinehad pulled the hose free, and the twine had slipped off so that he was able topull it through the basement window. Now, there were about ten minutes leftbefore he would 'discover' the disaster.

He made his way through the guests,trading stories, laughing at jokes, and doing a fairly effective job of gettingdrunk. It was strange knowing when the exact moment of one's death was going tooccur. What if he had known from the very beginning? Would he have doneanything differently? The question was rhetorical. He would always have joinedThe Roundtable, as he understood it to be. And the moment he entered his firstRoundtable meeting, he was one of them. From then on, nothing he did wouldchange a thing.

He had said goodbye to each of the kids inhis own way and had managed half-decent sex with Nancy before tension overwhelmedhim. Now, he stood in the kitchen and glanced over at the drawer where he hadplaced the flashlights. Just a few more minutes. Suddenly, he realized thephone was ringing. His first thought was that something had happened to one ofthe kids. He snatched it up.

'Hello?'

'Kevin Loomis?'

'Yes.'

'It's Harry. Harry Corbett. How're youdoing?'

'Fine. We're having a party here, though.I really can't talk.'

'That's okay. You can just listen. I won'ttake long. The murder they want me for, the surgeon. .?'

'Yes.'

From the doorway, Nancy asked with bodylanguage if the call was anything for her to be concerned with. Kevin shook hishead.

'It's Atwater, Kevin,' Harry went on.'Doug Atwater from Manhattan Health. He's the knight behind the killings,behind that Dr. Perchek I told you about.'

'I suspected as much. Atwater's Galahad,the knight in charge of security. I saw him earlier today on the news.'

'The others in your group may haveparticipated, but I believe he's the mastermind. We're going after him and Perchekright now.'

'Good luck.'

'Kevin, I'm calling to beg you to see thisthing through. If we get them, we're going to need you to testify against them.If we fail, all those patients at risk are going to need you even more.'

'I … I don't know what you're talkingabout,' Kevin said. 'Of course I'm going to see this through. I wish you lucktonight. I've got to go now.'

'Kevin, please be strong. You have toomuch to lose. We all do.'

Kevin set the receiver down withoutreplying. Damn Corbett. He didn't have any kids. He turned on the sinkwater, which was now little more than a trickle.

'Hey, Fred,' he called to one of the twomen he had selected, 'we've got no water pressure all of a sudden. What do youthink?'

The man shrugged.

'Guess we ought to check the basement,' hesaid.

Kevin allowed him to open the basementdoor and try the light.

'Bulb's out,' the man said. 'Or else thepower down there's dead.'

From below, they could clearly hear thesound of gushing water. Kevin handed him a flashlight and then called overReverend Pete Peterson and handed him one as well. His pulse was beginning torace.

'It looks like a great flood down there,'he said. 'Unfortunately, my waders are right in the middle of it. You guys hangon the stairway and follow me with your lights. I'll see what I can see.'

It was about to happen, Kevin was thinking. It feltstrange, so strange that his whole life had come down to these few moments.

He led the two men down to the basementand stepped into foot and a half of water. 'It's the washing machine hose,' hecalled out from the blackness. 'It's snapped off. Keep your lights on it.'

All those things in life that had seemedso damn important at the time … all meaningless. .

'Just be careful,' Peterson said.

Kevin jammed the hose back on to itshousing.

'See,' he said, 'no problem. No problem atall.'

What I am doing is right. Bestfor Nancy. Best for the kids. Best for everyone. God, forgive me. .