Fever Dream

had no enemies. Everyone loved her at MIT, and in her graduate work she was always scrupulous in sharing credit.'

Pendergast nodded. 'What about after her graduation? Any rivals at Doctors With Wings? Anyone passed over for a promotion in favor of her?'

'DWW didn't operate like that. Everyone worked together. No egos. She was much appreciated there.' He swallowed painfully. 'Even loved.'

Pendergast sat back in his chair. 'In the months before her death, she took several short trips. Research, she told me, but she was vague about the details. In retrospect it seems a little odd--Doctors With Wings was more about education and treatment than it was about research. I now wish I had pressed her for more information. You're a doctor--do you know what she might have been up to, if anything?'

Esterhazy paused to think. Then he shook his head. 'Sorry, Aloysius. She told me nothing. She loved traveling to faraway places--as you know. And she was fascinated by medical research. Those twin loves were what led her to DWW in the first place.'

'What about your family history?' D'Agosta asked. 'Any instances of familial conflict, childhood grievances, that sort of thing?'

'Everybody loved Helen,' Esterhazy said. 'I used to be a little jealous of her popularity. And, no, there have been no family problems to speak of. Both our parents died more than fifteen years ago. I'm the only Esterhazy left.' He hesitated.

'Yes?' Pendergast leaned forward.

'Well, I'm sure there's nothing to it, but long before she met you she had... an unhappy love affair. With a real bounder.'

'Go on.'

'It was her first year in graduate school, seems to me. She brought the fellow down from MIT for the weekend. Blond, clean-cut, blue eyes, tall and athletic, always seemed to go about in tennis whites and crew sweaters, came from a rich old WASP family, grew up in Manhattan with a summer cottage on Fishers Island, talked about going into investment banking--you know the type.'

'Why was it unhappy?'

'Turned out he had some kind of sexual problem. Helen was vague about it, some kind of perverse behavior or cruelty in that area.'

'And?'

'She dumped him. He annoyed her for a while, phone calls, letters. I don't think it reached the level of stalking. And then it seemed to fade away.' He waved his hand. 'That was six years before you met and nine years before her death. I can't see there being anything in it.'

'And the name?'

Esterhazy clutched his forehead in his hands. 'Adam... First name was Adam. For the life of me I can't remember his last name--if I ever knew it.'

A long silence. 'Anything else?'

Esterhazy shook his head. 'It seems inconceivable to me anyone would want to hurt Helen.'

There was a brief silence. Then Pendergast nodded to a framed print on one of the walls: a faded picture of a snowy owl sitting in a tree at night. 'That's an Audubon, isn't it?'

'Yes. A reproduction, I'm afraid.' Esterhazy glanced at it. 'Odd you should mention it.'

'Why?'

'It used to hang in Helen's bedroom when we were children. She told me how, when she was sick, she would stare at it for hours on end. She was fascinated by Audubon. But of course you know all that,' he concluded briskly. 'I kept it because it reminded me of her.'

D'Agosta noticed something very close to a look of surprise on the FBI agent's face, quickly concealed.

There was a brief silence before Pendergast spoke again. 'Is there anything you can add about Helen's life in the years immediately before we met?'

'She was very busy with her work. There was also a period where she was heavily into rock climbing. Spent almost every weekend in the Gunks.'

'The Gunks?'

'The Shawangunk Mountains. She was living in New York then, for a time. She did a lot of traveling. Part of it was for Doctors With Wings, of course--Burundi, India, Ethiopia. But part of it was just for adventure. I still remember bumping into her one afternoon, it must have been--oh, fifteen, sixteen years ago. She was packing frantically, on her way to New Madrid, of all places.'

'New Madrid?' Pendergast said.

'New Madrid, Missouri. She wouldn't tell me why she was going--said I'd just laugh. She could be a very private person in her own way. You must know that better than anyone, Aloysius.'

D'Agosta stole another private glance at Pendergast. That would make two, he thought. He could not imagine anyone more private, more reluctant to share his thoughts, than Pendergast.

'I wish I could help you more. If I recall the last name of that old boyfriend, I'll let you know.'

Pendergast stood up. 'Thank you, Judson. It's most kind of you to see us like this. And I'm sorry you had to learn the truth this way. I'm afraid there--well, there simply wasn't time for me to break it in a gentler fashion.'

'I understand.'