“I don’t see nuttin’,” he teased,straightening. “You sure you heard with those ACs going?” His smile was wonderfulas he held up his bakery bag. “Find my note?”
“Yes, mmm, smells wonderful.” Liddy smiled.
“Fresh croissants and bagels.” He put hisarm around her. “You good? Feets moving? C’mon, let’s eat.”
2
In the kitchen he sather down, piled the bakery eats into a linen-napkin-lined basket, and reachedfor the coffee. “Dig in,” he said, pouring into her cup. “You sure you’re upfor today?”
“Oh yeah,” she replied. “I am so ready toget out.”
“Cool,” he said, sounding a littleridiculous since before all this it was hardly a typical response. Hewas a serious scientist, bordering on nerdy if he weren’t good-looking, but sincethe accident he’d been practically straining to be “up” and encouraging. He’dhauled back her easel, draftsman’s table, and art supplies from the studioshe’d been co-renting with other artists in an old warehouse on West 47th. Tonsof effort, and it hadn’t helped her much emotionally. One day, having no luckwith her painting and hurting in her pillow-piled chair, Liddy cried to moveout of their stodgy Upper West Side to a more artistic neighborhood. Soho?Tribeca? She’d asked before in the over four years they’d been married and he’dbalked - those neighborhoods were more expensive – but on the day she cried he’dpractically flown out the door. Made forays and looked at apartments and warmedto the idea. Paul Barron, neuroscientist, was suddenly not that guy in thewhite coat obsessing about Halothane and Propofol and molecular weights andformulas. He’d been talking to Soho-ites; announced that he liked the vibe andwas discovering his artistic side, too. Lo, now he was smearing butter across hiscroissant and calling it a comet.
“Beth called while you were asleep,” hesaid, turning on their kitchen TV, flipping around, muttering “news, same oldnews.”
“What’s the word?” Liddy nibbled a raisin bagel.
“Three new elevator places in Soho shewants to show us. You didn’t like any of the others she showed me?”
“Liked them, didn’t love them.” The placeshe’d seen with Beth Liddy had seen online. Studied every room, little terrace,nook and cranny.
“Okay, well these sound good.” Paul turnedoff the TV, pulled a map of lower Manhattan closer. “Two just reduced theirprices, last minute hoping to grab people trying to get settled before schoolbegins. August is a good time to move.”
“Elevators make places more expensive and Itold Beth I don’t need one.”
“Your leg.”
“I’m healed. Just stiff in themornings and at my drawing board sometimes. Besides, they’ve got me doingstairs at rehab.”
Bethany Harms was Liddy’s friend from theirart school days who’d decided she was a no-talent, had given up becoming thenext Georgia O’Keefe for the artistic thrill of selling real estate. Paul wasreading some notes he’d scribbled from her call. “One place on Mercer – kinda expensive…aloft on Greene Street, price not terrible, third place on Sullivan - oh, shedid mention a loft on Prince Street that’s less expensive but unfortunately awalkup. Third floor.”
“Let’s take the walkup.” Liddy said; thenhesitated, meeting Paul’s eyes as if suddenly feeling guilty. She hated thefact that she was timid. Why couldn’t she be like other women and say, Dammit,I want to move!
“I still feel bad,” she said. “I pressuredyou into this.”
“Nahhh.” Paul smiled and got up for morecoffee.
They’d discussed it before, and Paul wasadamant. They’d saved from the years that they’d stayed here in what had beenhis bachelor pad, and he and his workaholic research partner Carl Finn were closeto a breakthrough at the lab with Big Pharma salivating. Their work was at NYUanyway, just blocks north of Soho – why hadn’t he thought of this?
“And big news,” Paul said with a flair ashe re-filled each of their mugs, made a fuss stirring in just the amount ofmilk Liddy liked. “I’m going to sell the boat.”
Liddy stared at him. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. It’ll sell fast and it’s equity tillit does. It was a ridiculous expense anyway.”
“But you love that boat.” It was a thirty-four foot sailboat named Seafarer that had belongedto Paul’s father, and was all he had. A sad man, he’d practically lived in itafter his divorce, had spent his winters sailing to Key West where he’d livedlike a bum, then had sailed up and down the Florida coast before drinkinghimself to death.
Liddy looked fretfully out their kitchenwindow. It offered a glimpse of the Hudson if you leaned out. “Now I feeldoubly bad. You’re selling the boat for me, aren’t you? So we can afford Soho.”
“No. It’s just time to move on, evolve.” Hesqueezed her hand, then went back to his map of lower Manhattan.
“It’s why you moved here in the first place,to be close to it,” Liddy fretted. They were just five blocks from the 79thStreet boat basin.
Paul waved a hand.
“We’ve enjoyed the boat but we need a biggerplace anyway, and why shouldn’t it be where you’ll be happier and I’ll becloser to work? The restaurants in Soho, my God. This could be a blast.”
“Carl would have to find another boat toborrow,” Liddy said drily.
“Yeah well...” Paul shrugged and checkedhis watch. “Beth wants to meet us in forty minutes. Think we can make it?”
3
Thirty blocks away, justbefore noon, all hell broke loose at the West 54th Street policestation. Two detectives were already turning the air blue as others showed upfor the bad news, and Kerri Blasco paced with her face crumpling. “How couldthis happen? How the hell could this happen?”
Her partner Alex Brand touched her arm asshe flew past, half weeping as she turned, paced back, and stopped before theirsquad room’s monitor. The others gave her looks that were just as frustrated asthey resumed watching the tape, the whole catastrophic arrest scene that had wreckedmonths of work. The vile, sadistic psycho who raped and brutally beat hisvictims to death was going to walk free - on a technicality! Witness statementsdown the drain. Weeks of canvassing, police affidavits and warrants andstakeouts without number, a whole case Kerri and Alex had built, down the drain.
Buck Dillon, another homicide detective,gave Kerri a sympathetic tilt of his head that said hey, they’re hurting too.
She exhaled
