promotional instincts for sorcery. She was happy to have Nathan’s favor, and fearful that her first really bad move would quickly erode it. Now, as always, she did her best and hoped to stay a step ahead of the game.
“If he knows Floyd Ochs,” she went on, “he knows everyone.”
Nathan’s eyes glistened. “Who? Who?” he demanded.
“Who’s everyone?” Pitts asked.
“Well,” Louise said. “Besides Hopman, MacNeal, and Ochs, there’s Pat Grath and us.”
“What about whatshername… Dr. Roy?” said Wes.
Tom and Nathan looked at Pitts the way his line coach had when the game films showed him missing a block on a crucial play. “You asshole,” seemed written in their stare. Some things were not necessary for Louise to know.
“I doubt that,” Louise said. “How would anyone know about her, and besides, she’s dead. But if you want to start at the beginning, there’s also Wayne Korman.”
“The foreman,” Maloney said. “Why Ochs and not him?”
“There’s no way to know,” Louise said. “Why Billy Mac and not Pat Grath?”
“Billy Mac was this morning,” Pitts said. “By dinner Pat Grath may be dead too.”
“Why Hopman first?” Louise continued. “He wasn’t the first to know anything. As I recall he didn’t know anything except what you told him, Tom. Right?”
“I believe so,” Tom said.
“So why start with him?” Pitts asked.
“Nathan,” said Louise, “let’s look at this. In addition to the three already victims, there are at least the four of us, Pat Grath, and the foreman Wayne Korman. Possibly others too at the plant level; maybe some within Knowland, Second Houston, even Alliance. We don’t know. We can speculate about Grath-Wes has been unable to reach him-but there’s little or no point. We know he’s involved. We just don’t know if he’s still alive. Why one and not another? At this time we-”
“Who the fuck cares?” Nathan shouted. And once again he said, “I thought this was taken care of!”
“What are you talking about?” Pitts asked.
“Dr. Roy’s notes may have outlived her,” Louise continued, “quite frankly, Dr. Roy may be a source of information for this person. She was present when you, Nathan, discussed Mr. Hopman’s role with Wesley. As I recall it was a heated exchange. She may have written that down somewhere and failed to surrender her computer records and destroy her notes as requested. When she was robbed it’s at least conceivable that such information fell into the hands… what?”
The three of them were staring.
“That was us,” Nathan said. “The burglary was us. We had people break in and take her stuff. They got a CD with everything on it, the works.”
Louise let her mouth fall open and shot a furious glance at Wes. “You did a burglary?” She felt her composure snap and Wesley saw it go. “A burglary in her apartment?” Her eyes were darting now. Her thin hands moved in the air. Her expression reddened and she said, “Are you fucking crazy? What have you involved me in? I told you not to go through with it. I told you from the start. It’s one thing to make a goddamn mistake. Now you’re talking about burglary! Did you kill her too?”
Wesley was surprised to see both Tom and Nathan immobilized. He leaned forward, as Tom often did with Nathan, and put his hand on her shoulder. He pitched his voice deep and soothing.
“Nothing like that. I give you my word of honor. We would not even contemplate anything like that. You know in your heart we wouldn’t.” By “we” it was understood between them that he meant only himself. She looked away from him, at the lake, waiting for her fury to ebb. Wes patted her shoulder. Tom kept silent. Nathan tried but could not contain himself.
“Absolutely not,” he shouted, aiming for an indignant effect, “whatever she did to herself, she did to herself.”
Louise looked sharply at Tom, certain in the moment that he could not successfully lie.
“It’s the truth,” he said. Was that regret or guilt she heard in Tom’s voice, or something else foreign to her experience? She had no time to figure it out. She looked away from them all, upward at wisps of wind-driven clouds. The others gave her respectful silence. When she spoke again her voice was calm and hard. Wesley expected practical questions going to self-preservation.
“What else don’t I know?” said Louise.
Nathan glared at Tom and spit as he spoke. “ Tell her, for Christ’s sake! Tell her what she doesn’t know.”
“Don’t overreact, Nathan,” Tom Maloney said. The world was falling apart in front of him and yet it was all Tom could do not to wonder how long it would take to canoe the length of the lake and back. For a moment he questioned his sanity. “Steps have been taken,” he said.
Wesley Pitts seemed to breathe easier. He knew from experience that if Maloney was on top of something, he had nothing to worry about. He hoped that was still true. Louise’s expression did not change perceptibly, but she crossed her legs, something Tom noticed she did only when she was at ease. When discussing anything with Louise Hollingsworth, Maloney knew to look at her body language. Legs straight, knees together indicated stress and uncertainty. Crossed legs meant she made her point, was comfortable with it, and fully expected agreement. She painstakingly taught herself to control her hands, which were constantly in view whenever she spoke, but her legs gave her away.
“We have people on this,” Tom said.
“They’re doing a great job, Tom,” Stein said. Tom glared at him.
“What people?” asked Wes Pitts.
“We made certain arrangements after Billy MacNeal was killed,” Tom continued without directly answering Pitts. “Suffice it to say, we’ve arranged to have the assassin found and taken care of. The people we’ve hired are used to pursuing their objective with somewhat more complete information than we’ve been able to supply. They-”
“What the fuck are you talking about!” Stein exploded. “When you pay somebody to ‘take care of someone,’ you expect they’ll ‘take care of it.’ Am I wrong? These mystery men can’t find the bathroom without a flashlight, can they?”
“Take it easy everyone,” Tom said. “We have topnotch people on this. But, frankly, they have to know who to go after. We can’t tell them that. This is not something these people usually do. Finding out who they’re looking for may be a little beyond their scope.”
“Five hundred grand, and it’s ‘a little beyond their scope’?” Nathan’s voice was screeching with frustration, and Tom was certain anger had ignited the fires of Nathan’s uncontrollable fear.
“Take care of them…?” Louise said. “Does that mean-”
“Damn well better mean that,” Pitts said. He mumbled something foul.
Tom delivered his next line to Louise. “Nathan is justifiably disappointed. I’m disappointed myself. The people I’ve hired have not been able to identify our man. Once we have him identified and know where he is, I’m sure they’ll do as expected. And that’s really why I’m a little late. Before I left the city I made a few phone calls.”
All three were leaning forward now: Wesley hoping Tom had it locked at last; Louise feeling snug at the center of things; Nathan turning again to his only friend. Tom met each set of eyes and said, “I want to tell you about a guy. His name is Walter Sherman.”
New York
Isobel Gitlin had celebrity thrust upon her, and she did not like it a bit. At least, not at first. The Moose tried to counsel her. “Let them see you and get it over with,” he said. “These things have a shelf life of a day and a half. Go with it. Let it happen. Before you know it, it’s over.” She rejected his advice. She thought it was stupid that anyone would make her a part of the story of the E. coli disaster and the deaths that now seemed to follow. “It’s nonsense,” she told Gold. He followed her wishes. He held out for a while, demanding that the Times withhold her photographic image. That lasted a week, during which time the cable networks filled their empty afternoons with
