grade it for taste. He left Grace a tip that was twice the cost of their meal, along with a note that thanked her for presiding over their morning mooning.
'You know what I'm really relieved about?' he asked as they headed out to the Harley. 'I'm really relieved those guys didn't kill you.'
'Aw, gee. You certainly know just what to say to a girl, you romantic devil you. It's good to know we actually have something in common. I'm relieved they didn't kill me, too.'
She reached across the bike and kissed him intensely enough to get a honk from a passing trucker. She had just let up when they felt some tentative raindrops. Fifteen minutes later, it was drizzling steadily. Matt found a Wal-Mart outside of York and VISAed some rain gear for each of them, but for the next five hours the going was slow and not pleasant. They gave passing thought to stopping until the next morning, but Nikki was too anxious to get home. By the time the clouds broke, they were still several hours from Boston, having inched through rush-hour traffic around New York City. At nine Nikki called the office to tell Joe Keller they were running late and might not be there until eleven, but there was no answer.
'He's either doing a late case or out to dinner,' she said. 'I shouldn't have told him when we were arriving, so he wouldn't wait, but now that I did, I'm sure he'll be there.'
Matt used the break to call his machine. There were two messages. The first was from Mae reporting that as far as she knew, there was no word about his patient, Dr. Solari, and that she was worried about not having heard from him all day, and hoped he was all right and that his absence was due to nothing more serious than the erratic behavior he had been exhibiting so much of lately. The second message was from Hal.
'Good news, Matt. Not great, but good. Fred Carabetta won't commit to any action regarding the mine, but he will meet with us his office. Tomorrow at three. Two Hundred Constitution Avenue. Wherever you are, I hope you can make it. Call and confirm.'
Matt left a message on both his uncle's office and home machines that he would be there, and then dictated a message on his own office machine telling Mae he was all right and would be in touch. After he set the receiver down, he shared Hal's breakthrough with Nikki.
'I'm going to take the bike back to D.C. tomorrow,' he said. 'Wanna come?'
'Do you get frequent flyer miles on this thing?'
'Double miles to D.C. It's the shuttle.'
'Well, thanks. I really want to be with you, but for the moment I think I need to stay here. For one thing, I feel like my body can't take too much more, and for another, I have this job cutting up dead people that I get paid pretty well for doing, but only if I show up. It says so in my contract.'
'I understand. I'll be back up as soon as I deal with this mine thing.'
It was nearing eleven by the time they cruised up the Southeast Expressway toward the shimmering lights of Boston. The rain had stopped, leaving the air cool and fresh.
'Have you been back here since your residency?' Nikki asked.
'Nope,' he called back over his shoulder. 'In the beginning, after I returned to Belinda, I was working like hell in the ER, then to set up a private practice. Ginny got sick soon after that, and never really had much of a remission. Since she died, it's been hard enough much of the time just to get up and go to the office, much less embark on a nostalgic journey to Boston. I did like the place, though. Lots.'
The medical examiner's office was located just off the highway. Except for some low nighttime lighting, the three-story building was dark. Nikki rang the front buzzer half a dozen times. They could hear the sound of it echoing through the empty reception area, but there was no movement inside.
'Strange,' she said, 'there's usually a maintenance man here all night. Even if he's not, Joe often works past midnight. Knowing we're coming, I have trouble believing he went home.'
'Maybe he wasn't feeling well,' Matt offered.
'Maybe. The front door opens with a swipe card that is back in West Virginia with my things. But there's a security door in the back that has a keypad. Joe's office is toward the back anyhow. Maybe he can't hear the buzzer.'
Matt followed her through a dimly lit alley to the rear of the building.
'See,' she said. 'That's Joe's office, that light right there on the second floor. I knew he was here.'
'I think you're right about him not hearing us. This is a long building — sort of like an aircraft carrier.'
Nikki punched in the code and they stepped into the concrete rear stairway, eerily illuminated by a red EXIT sign. The air was imbued with the distinctive, though not overpowering, aroma of formaldehyde. With Matt following, Nikki quickly ascended to the second floor and opened the door onto a carpeted corridor with offices on either side.
'Joe, it's us,' she called out.
She knocked on the door marked JOSEF KELLER, M.D. CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER, then pushed it open. The office was brightly lit by an overhead fluorescent fixture and a desk lamp. Joe Keller was at his desk, his back to them.
'Joe,' Nikki said, 'why didn't you — ?'
Then she saw the blood on the carpet. She raced to the chair, with Matt right behind, and cried out loudly. There was dark, clotted blood all over the desk and splattered across the face and clothes of Joe Keller. His head drooped over his chest. Nikki lifted it gently, exposing a battered face with a bullet hole just above the nose. Keller's eyes were open wide and glazed with death. His wire-rimmed spectacles dangled from one ear.
'Look,' Matt said, gesturing to Keller's right hand, which rested in the dead man's lap.
The index finger had been cleanly severed off at the middle knuckle.
'Oh, Jesus!' Nikki cried, stumbling backward, her limbs suddenly in spasm. 'Oh, Christ, how could someone do this to him?'
Matt put his arms around her and held her closely.
'Honey, please don't touch anything anymore,' he begged.
'Who would do such a thing? Why? He was such a dear, sweet man. Why? Oh, Jesus. Oh, shit! No.'
She couldn't stop moving, shifting from one foot to the other, pounding her fists against the sides of her thighs. Matt led her away from the body of her mentor, trying at once to comfort her, evaluate the scene, and stay alert in case the killer was still in the building. He thought about the gun in his saddlebag, and cursed himself for not bringing it along when Keller failed to answer the door. He had an inkling of trouble at that moment, but simply hadn't paid
enough attention to it. There wasn't the slightest doubt in his mind that the ME's torture and murder were somehow connected to Kathy Wilson. Was Grimes nearby — or his stooges?
There was a small, round conference table at one end of the office. Matt helped Nikki into the chair that was facing away from Keller.
'Nikki, I'm really sorry about this — sick and sorry.'
'You think it had to do with Grimes?' she sobbed.
'I'm going to try to figure that out, but yes, yes I do.'
He chose not to question her again about what she might have said to Grimes either at the memorial service or in the cabin.
'I–I want to help you,' she said.
'In a little bit. Nik, can you sit here while I look around?'
'Yes.'
'Good. Just keep your hands in your lap. I know there's a logical explanation for your prints being in this building, but I'd rather not have them be the only employee's fresh prints in this office.'
'I understand. Matt, they tortured him.'
Matt paced around the desk and scanned the rest of the office. No gun, no knife, no finger. He squatted down and examined Keller's contused, distorted face. His nose had certainly been shattered, and there was probably a fracture of the orbit bone above his left eye.
Earlier in the evening they had again discussed calling in the police and had voted unanimously against it for the time being.
'Nikki,' Matt asked, 'can you estimate when he was murdered?'
'I would need to examine him to be really accurate, but from what I saw I would guess a couple of hours ago.'
