'Also,' Quinn said, 'it might be a mistake to plant the idea in Helen's head. Might throw her off her game.'
'Uh-huh.' They walked a bit farther. 'That's one for you to decide.'
'I know,' Quinn said. 'You just examine what's left of the victims.'
'Not anymore,' Linda said.
They stopped walking and Quinn looked at her.
'Dr. Nift has taken over all duties connected with the Torso Murders.'
'He give a reason?'
'To maintain continuity, he said.'
'He's a continual asshole,' Quinn said.
'He's my boss.'
'Which is why I can say it and you can't,' Quinn said.
Linda didn't disagree.
Jill and Tony met at Has Beans again. He'd suggested a genuine night out, dinner at an expensive restaurant, maybe a show. Who could tell what might come after? She wasn't ready for that. She'd let him know and he'd smoothly backed off.
They were in the same booth where they'd first met. He was sipping a Honduras again. She'd taken a chance and ordered a Nicaragua.
When she sipped the foamy coffee drink, she decided she liked it.
'Yum,' she said, 'but do they even grow coffee in Nicaragua?'
'I don't know,' Tony said. 'They grow revolutions.' He sipped and smiled. 'On the phone you mentioned there was something you wanted to tell me. Something personal?'
'It's something that's got me kind of rattled,' she said. 'A little scared.'
'About me?'
She rested her hand on his. 'God, no!' She didn't know quite where to begin, not wanting to sound paranoid. 'There's this woman who seems to be…well, following me.'
He sat forward, interested. She was gratified by his obvious concern for her. 'You know who she is?' he asked.
'I've never seen her before. I don't think. She does look familiar, but maybe she has one of those faces. She's a street woman, Tony. A homeless person. Dirty clothes, stringy blond hair. And she looks as if she could use a bath and a good meal.'
'So maybe she's just panhandling.'
'No, she's never asked for anything. It's just that now and then I turn around or glance to the side, and there she is.'
'Coincidence?'
'I wish. She's usually staring at me. Once she even started toward me.'
'What do you mean, started toward you? In a way that was threatening?'
'I…well, I'm not sure.'
'So what did you do?'
'I ran. I mean, that sounds worse than it is. I had on my sweat suit and jogging shoes anyway, and I was sort of running in place, so I just…jogged away from her.'
'Good.' With his free hand, he scrunched up his lower lip between thumb and forefinger, looking worried.
'What are you thinking, Tony?'
'I don't know what to think. If you see her again, just avoid her. Do whatever's necessary to stay away. She might be dangerous.'
'Whether she is or not, I admit she makes me afraid.'
'Maybe you know something about her you don't think you know,' Tony said. 'If you know what I mean.'
Jill didn't. 'There's something else.' She hesitated. 'I don't want you to think I'm some kind of nut.'
Tony gave her hand a squeeze. 'I don't and I won't.'
'I get the feeling sometimes that someone's been in my apartment while I was gone. No, more than a feeling, actually. I'm sure things aren't exactly as I've left them. There've been small changes, barely noticeable, but they're there. Maybe a lamp shade's crooked, or a sofa cushion's propped up at a corner when it wasn't before, or my clothes aren't hung in the same order in my closet. Things like that.' She looked at him. He must think she was crazy. 'I'm sure about these things, Tony. They're real and not my imagination.'
'Not necessarily your imagination,' he said. 'But maybe your memory. Maybe you're just spooked and seeing things you hadn't noticed before.'
She tried a smile. 'Sort of the opposite of deja vu?'
'I guess you could put it that way. If you had a sense of humor. You might simply not recall things exactly as they were. We all do that from time to time.'
'You could be right.' But she wasn't so sure. These differences in her apartment, however minute, did seem real.
He sat back and seemed suddenly alarmed. 'Jill, you don't think these two things are connected, do you? I mean the homeless woman and the idea that somebody might have been in your apartment?'
The possibility had been on the edge of her consciousness. But she said, 'I don't know. I don't see how they could be, but who knows?'
Tony abruptly leaned toward her, giving her hand another squeeze. 'You have my cell phone number, Jill. Do me a favor. If you see this woman again, give me a call. Wherever I am, I'll get right there and confront her.'
'All right. But I could call the police.'
'If you want.'
She didn't and he knew it. She wanted him and not the police to come to her rescue. Besides, what could she tell the police, arrest the woman for staring at her?
'The trouble is,' Jill said, 'you're out of town so often. Your job.'
'If I'm in town, I'll come running.'
She placed her hand on top of the one holding hers and aimed a smile across the table. 'I know you will, Tony. But all of it, I mean, it's all probably nothing. Maybe it is my imagination. I mean, the woman's real, all right, but she probably does simply want a handout. She might see me as a soft touch.'
He grinned at her. 'Now, that's possible.'
They leaned toward each other across the table and kissed lightly.
'But call me anyway,' he said.
Jill assured him that she would, but she'd decided not to. These problems she should handle on her own. She didn't want Tony to think she was some kind of head case.
One he wouldn't want to see again.
21
He wasn't there. He was.
Deputy Chief Nobbler glanced up from what he was reading on his desk, and there stood Greeve. Also standing was the hair on the back of Nobbler's neck.
Nobbler had just a moment ago told his assistant in the outer office to send Greeve in, but Greeve had somehow opened the heavy door, entered, and closed the door without making a sound. Living up to his 'Ghost' nickname. Nobbler wondered if the silent entry had been deliberate. He was sure that from time to time Greeve played with his mind.
'Morning,' Greeve said. He made it sound like mourning. Or maybe Nobbler just thought that because of Greeve's mortician looks and attitude.
Mourning yourself. 'I've been thinking about that Quinn and Dr. Chavesky thing,' Nobbler said.
