And it wasn’t. Tecci pulled a knife and that was it; I knew I’d had it. I spit in his face and grabbed the briefcase.”
Greer lifted his arm an inch and dropped it. “He slashed me, right through the artery,” he said. “I kicked him, got a leg up on the railing, and jumped. Two hundred feet to the river. Crushed my legs.”
I observed what must have been a twisted mess under the blanket as the man restocked his decrepit lungs.
“I’d spent two years in a prison camp in Nam,” Greer said. “Knew how to survive. Got away down the river. They never found me. You were right, kid, when you said I was supposed to be dead. I stayed dead.”
Greer coughed, a sound like coal spilling down a chute. Almost a minute passed before he caught his breath.
“So I’m here for the confession before you die?” I said, barely containing my rage. “Or did you just get the urge to cheer me up? You bastard.”
Greer half-smiled. “Do you believe in destiny, Reb?”
“I’m here because you said you knew about the fire. What about it?”
“I believe in destiny,” he pushed on. “I’ve been keeping track of you for a long time. I was glad that widow college professor adopted you after your parents died. Mrs. Tucker, right? Martha Belle Tucker. She must have raised you right.”
“Yeah?” I seethed. “Why’s that?”
“You haven’t strangled me yet.”
“The fire, Greer . . .”
Greer’s smile vanished.
“I think Nolo Tecci came for your father and set fire to your house.”
Instantly, time cracked and I was sailing toward the ground through the smoke-filled air. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to focus, to stitch it back together. Voices pecked at me—whispering voices from rooms in neighbors’ houses.
I opened my eyes and breathed in through my nostrils, anger and disgust swirling in my belly.
“Why?” I demanded. “Why would he do that?”
“Just in case I’d survived,” Greer said. “Gotten the notes to your old man somehow—double-crossed Krell. Your father didn’t have the notes, but Krell and Tecci didn’t know that. Tecci had to check. He probably tortured your old man before killing him and then burned your house down for fun. I saw the look in his eyes when he was about to kill me. I think he would have enjoyed it.”
I stared at the pathetic, rotted out, worm-eaten log of a human being. “And the notes?” I asked slowly.
Greer sighed. “You didn’t answer me when I asked you if you believe in destiny.”
“You’re playing me. Nobody plays me,” I said, rising out of my seat.
“Mmm,” he said.“No one’s immune from that.”
I headed for the door. “So long,” I spat. “I’m out of here.”
“No, you’re not,” Greer shouted after me. “This is your game now, Rollo Eberhart Barnett, Jr. Your parents’ killer is still out there. You find the bookseller’s notes, you’ll find Tecci.”
I stopped in my tracks.
Greer stared me down.
“But the notes were destroyed.”
“There is no way they burned,” Greer said, shaking his head. “No way. And whatever the bookseller in Venice found, they weren’t the original notes. Maybe da Vinci made a duplicate. Maybe it’s a second part of—”
“Leonardo,” I warned. “His name was Leonardo. Don’t call him da Vinci. It’s not respectful.”
“Mmm, just like your old man. That’s even better.”
My toes involuntarily curled in my boots; my palms began to sweat.
“Nolo Tecci killed the Italian,” Greer continued. “Burned him down for his notes. Just as he did your father.”
Something inside snapped and I sprang for the old man. I stood over him clenching and unclenching my fists, anger knocking the lid off the kettle. I drilled a look into his waxy eyes, my breath ruffling a wisp of his thin silver hair.
Greer arched his neck as if he wanted me to strangle him. After a minute he lay back and whispered, “Like I said, you were raised right. Your old man wanted that Dagger, but my greed got in the way. I’m not greedy anymore. Now what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to call the police,” I said, picking up the phone next to his bed, pointing the receiver at him. “And you’re going to tell them what you just told me.”
Greer shook his head.“No.”
I slammed the phone down. The little bell inside resounded in the dim room.
“For one, Krell is too powerful for the police,” Greer rasped. “For two, you don’t want police.”
