Dance Of Death

'Four.' He leaned over and gave her a kiss.

'You look like hell.'

'It isn't for lack of sleep.'

Nora pushed the paper over to him. 'Page one. Congratulations.'

Smithback glanced at it. His story of the theft of Lucifer's Heart by an unknown assailant was front page, above the fold: the dream of every journalist. It was a stupendous scoop, and along with the arrest of Pendergast, it had pushed Harriman's story of the Dangler capture to B3 of the Metro Section-an old woman had seen the Dangler exposing himself in front of an ATM and, righteously indignant, had whacked him into semiconsciousness with her cane. For the first time, Nora thought, Bill didn't seem interested in Harriman's misfortune.

He pushed the paper away. 'Not going to work?'

'The museum's told us all to stay home for the rest of this week- a kind of forced vacation. The place is in lockdown mode until they find out how the security system was breached.' She shook her head. 'On top of that, Hugo Menzies seems to have disappeared. It seems they caught him on a security camera not far from the Astor Hall at the time of the heist. They're worried he might have stumbled on the robbery and gotten himself killed.'

'Maybe he's the thief.'

'Diogenes Pendergast is the thief. You of all people should know that.'

'Maybe Menzies is Diogenes.' Bill forced a brittle laugh.

'That's not even funny.'

Smithback shrugged. 'Sorry. Poor taste on my part.'

Nora filled his coffee cup, refilled her own. 'There's one thing I still don't get from reading your story. How did Pendergast get Lucifer's Heart out of the Affiliated Transglobal building? I mean, they immediately sealed the building, they X-rayed everyone leaving, they did a count of every single person who had come in and left. And they never found Pendergast. What'd he do, climb down the outside of the building? How'd he get the gem out?'

Smithback smoothed down an unruly cowlick, which popped back up as soon as his hand was gone. 'That's the best part of the story-if only I could write it.'

'Why can't you?'

Smithback turned toward her and smiled a little grimly. 'Because I was the one who walked the diamond out of the building.'

'You?' Nora stared at him, incredulous.

Smithback nodded.

'Oh, Bill!'

'Nora, I had to. It was the only way. And don't worry-it'll never be traced back to me. The diamond is back where it belongs. It was truly a brilliant plan.'

'Tell me about it.'

'You sure you want to know? That makes you an accessory after the fact.'

'I'm your wife, silly. Of course I want to know.'

Smithback sighed. 'Pendergast worked it all out. He knew they'd seal the building and search everyone on their way out. So he posed as a technician manning the X-ray machine.'

'But if security was as tight as you say, wouldn't they X-ray the security technicians, too? I mean, when they left the building?'

'Pendergast figured that out, too. After sending me through the X-ray machine, he pointed me toward the building exit. That's when he slipped the diamond into my pocket. I walked it right out of the building.'

Nora could hardly believe it. 'If you'd been caught, they would have put you away for twenty years.'

'Don't think that wasn't on my mind.' Smithback shrugged. 'But a life depended on it. And I have faith in Pendergast-sometimes I feel like I'm the only one left in the world who does.'

At this, he rose, walked to the window, and stared out restlessly, hands on his hips.

'It's not over, Nora,' he muttered. 'Not by a long shot.'

He turned swiftly, eyes flashing with anger. 'It's a travesty of justice. An innocent man's been framed as a horrendous serial killer. The real killer's still loose. I'm a journalist. It's my job to report the truth. There's a hell of a lot of truth still missing in this story. I'm going to find out what it is.'

'Bill-for God's sake, don't go after Diogenes.'

'What about Margo? Are we going to let her killer go free? With Pendergast in jail and D'Agosta on modified duty or worse, there's no one left who can do it but me.'

'Don't. Please don't. This is just another one of your impulsive- and stupid- decisions.'

He turned back to the window. 'I concede that it's impulsive. Maybe even stupid. So be it.'

Nora rose from her chair, feeling a surge of anger herself. 'What about us? Our future? If you go after Diogenes, he'll kill you. You're no match for him!'

Smithback looked out the window, not answering immediately. Then he stirred. 'Pendergast saved my life,' he said quietly. He turned again and looked at Nora. 'Yours, too.'

She wheeled away, exasperated.

He came over and took her in his arms. 'I won't do it… if you tell me not to.'

'And that's the one thing I'm not going to tell you. It's your decision.'

Smithback stepped back, knotted his tie, drew on his jacket. 'I'd better get to work.'

He kissed her. 'I love you, Nora.'

She shook her head. 'Be very, very careful.'

'I will, I promise. Have faith in me.'

And he vanished out the door.

SEVENTY-ONE

One day later, and fifty miles to the north, the sun shone dimly through the shuttered window of a small room in the intensive-care unit of a private clinic. A single patient lay under a sheet, hooked up to several large machines that beeped softly, almost comfortingly. Her eyes were closed.

A nurse came in, checked the machines, jotted down some of the vitals, and then paused to look at the patient.

'Good morning, Theresa,' she said brightly.

The patient's eyes remained closed, and she did not answer. They'd removed the feeding tube, and she was out of immediate danger, but she was still one very sick woman.

'It's a beautiful morning,' the nurse went on, opening the shutters and allowing a ray of sun to fall across the covers. Outside the window of the rambling Queen Anne mansion, the Hudson River sparkled amidst the winter landscape of Putnam County.

The woman's pale face lay against the pillow, her short brown hair spreading slightly across the cotton fabric.

The nurse continued to work, changing the IV bag, smoothing the covers. Finally, she leaned over the girl and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

The girl's eyes slowly opened.

The nurse paused, then took her hand. 'Good morning,' she said again, holding the hand lightly.

The eyes flicked to the left and right. The lips moved, but no sound came.

'Don't you try to talk just yet,' the nurse said, moving to the intercom. 'Everything will be all right. You've had a tough time of it, but now everything's fine.'

She pressed the intercom lever and leaned toward it, speaking in a low voice.

'The patient in ICU-6 is waking up,' she murmured. 'Get word to Dr. Winokur.'

She went and sat by the bed, taking the woman's hand again.

'Where…?'