“I did,” I said.
“And?”
“They won’t talk about him,” I said.
“When the baby was born she probably used her health insurance,” Epstein said. “Bureau will have a record. I’ll see what I can find out. What’s the kid’s name?”
“Melissa Minor,” I said. “Goes by Missy.”
Epstein nodded. He didn’t write it down. He rarely wrote things down. I sometimes thought he remembered everything he’d ever heard.
“Why are you interested in the father?”
“Seems odd they won’t talk about him,” I said.
Epstein nodded.
“Anything’s better than nothing,” Epstein said.
“But harder to come by,” I said. “You know Winifred Minor?”
“Casually,” Epstein said. “Bureau regarded her as a good agent, maybe a little gung ho.”
“Aggressive?”
“Yep. Probably proving something ’cause she was a female agent,” Epstein said.
“She know anything about explosives?”
Epstein shrugged.
“No reason she should,” he said. “I don’t.”
“I thought special agents in charge knew everything,” I said.
“They do,” Epstein said. “I was just being modest.”
22
It had snowed in the night, and the world looked very clean, which I knew it not to be. But illusion is nice sometimes.
Susan was at a conference in Fitchburg, so Pearl was spending the day with me. We got to work a little before nine, and Pearl scooted into the office across the hall from mine to see Lila, the receptionist. Lila gave her a cookie, which she always did when Pearl came to visit, which may have been why Pearl was always eager to see her.
“Hi, big boy,” Lila yelled to me.
I stopped and stuck my head in her doorway.
I said, “How’s the modeling career, Toots?”
“I think I got a photo gig,” she said. “Car dealer on the north shore.”
“I hope you don’t get too successful,” I said. “I like seeing you across the hall.”
Pearl was sitting still and focused, studying the drawer in Lila’s desk where she knew the cookies were kept, on the off chance that today, for the only time, Lila would give her another one. But Lila and I had agreed that since Pearl was insatiable, and you’d have to say no eventually, you might as well say no after one cookie.
“Sooner or later,” Lila said, “we’ll have to stop meeting like this.”
I nodded sadly and jerked my head at Pearl. We went across the hall to my office. As I took out my keys, Pearl stopped stock-still and began to growl. It wasn’t her usual sort of rambunctious there’s-a-dog-I-don’t-know- passing-the-house growl. This was primordial. A low, steady sound that seemed to pulsate. I stared at her. The hair was up along her spine. Her nose was pressed against the crack where the closed door met the jamb. The growl was unvarying. It was as if she didn’t need to breathe. There was a hint of snowmelt on the floor. I looked down the hall. It was dry, except at Lila’s office, where I’d left some wet footprints. I stepped to the side, away from the door, and took Pearl with me.
Pearl was idiosyncratic. She could be growling at the doorknob. But the growl was so malevolent. I reached silently over and tried the doorknob. The door was locked. I leaned my head around the jamb and put my ear to the door. I heard nothing. Maybe Pearl was wrong, though she was certainly insistent. And someone had left a trace of melted snow outside my door. And I was working on a case involving people who had blown someone into small pieces.
I took Pearl by the collar and led her back into Lila’s office.
“Your door lock?” I said.
“Sure,” she said.
“Okay, give her another cookie while I go out. Then lock the door behind me and keep her here while I do a little business.”
“What’s going on?” Lila said.
“Official detective business,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“If anything unusual happens in the hallway or my office, keep your door locked and call nine-one-one.”
“ ‘Unusual’?”
