that way the next day for Martinique.
The boat moved south toward Cape Cod at a high speed. It was a very powerful boat that made for an exhilarating ride.
In about an hour they passed Plymouth Harbor where the
At a couple of points on the trip Dana asked where they were going. Each time Aaron acted mysterious, saying “You’ll see.”
They passed a series of islands in the Elizabeth chain. Aaron pointed out Naushon and several smaller ones all owned by the Forbes family. Then they passed Pasque Island, which was covered mostly by poison ivy, and Penikese where a reform school was located. Then Cuttyhunk, which was open to the public. To the east lay Martha’s Vineyard, its lights twinkling like fireflies against the clouds. They continued westward toward a low-lying hump that emerged from the surface like the back of some prodigious sea creature.
“Homer’s Island,” he said. “Known as the exclamation point at the end of the Elizabeth chain.”
“What’s there?”
“Vita Nova. A place I’ve leased.”
As they grew closer, Dana made out lights of the harbor and buildings along the ridge beyond. They continued along the northern flank where large gracious estates hugged the bluffs.
After several minutes, they pulled into Buck’s Cove above which Aaron pointed to Vita Nova, a large dark mansion that sat high on a bluff overlooking the
“Where are your friends?”
“They’re already here.”
“Oh, island residents.”
“Some are, and others will arrive by ferry on the other side. Cars aren’t allowed on the island, so everybody gets around by golf-cart taxis. It’s quite charming.”
“But I thought you’d said there’s only one ferry a day that comes in the morning.”
“They’re coming by private ferry.”
“Oh.”
86
Steve called Dana, but she wasn’t home. Nor did she answer her cell phone. He left a message to call him as soon as possible.
He stared at the blowups of Corrine Novak in disbelief. The last shot before her death showed a red-haired younger woman with tighter skin, more fetching open eyes, a chiseled nose, bee-stung lips, a smooth, tapered jaw, and other differences he couldn’t put his finger on. It may have been the lighting and angle differences, but she could have been Dana’s sister.
It was a little past one and he was certain that Captain Ralph Modesky was not at his office at the Cobbsville P.D. But he called anyway. A desk sergeant named Eames answered. Steve identified himself and said it was urgent that he reach him. The sergeant said that he thought Captain Modesky was at a luncheon. “Then, Sergeant Eames, I’ll need his cell phone in addition to his home number.”
Steve heard hesitation. The sergeant probably shared the same small-town mind-set that they were not going to be pushed around by the big blue bullies from Beantown.
“I’m not sure Captain Modesky will appreciate a call at this time. It’s a public event.”
“So is the
Eames read off the numbers.
On the second ring, Steve reached Modesky, who let him know he was at a muckety-mucks function. “I’ll be quick. It’s about the Novak case.” He explained the differences in the woman’s photographs. “Do you recall if she had ever had cosmetic surgery?”
“Is that important?”
“It might be.”
“I can’t imagine why. Yeah, I think her father said something about that.”
“You’re saying she had some face work done.”
“That’s what I said. So what’s the problem?”
“It wasn’t mentioned in the autopsy report.”
“Because it wasn’t relevant to the cause of death. Is that it?”
“Not quite. The autopsy chart that asks for scars, blemishes, et cetera. They’re filled in with
There was a gaping silence. “Lieutenant, nose jobs are done inside, through the nostrils, so nothing was there to pick up, and she died by strangulation so nobody went looking up her nose.”
“Uh-huh, but from the photos it looks like she had some work done on her eyes, plus her lips look plumped up in the later photo.”
Modesky made an exasperated sigh in Steve’s ear. “I don’t know, Lieutenant Markarian. Maybe the plastic doc was very good. Maybe the M.E. missed the scar. Most likely he didn’t and just dismissed it as irrelevant to the case and entered
“You’re probably right.”
“Look, Lieutenant Markarian, if you’re saying we have the wrong photos, you’re in gross error, you got that? I know we may appear to you like the Mayberry sheriff’s office up here, but those are the same woman, Corrine Novak. Nobody messed up. Nobody mis-IDed her. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Modesky clicked off.
87
While Pierre and Cho finished the boat operations, Aaron led Dana up the stairs.
He chatted like a tour guide about the island and how because of the Gulf Stream some exotic tropical fish occasionally showed up. In fact, a couple of years ago there was an infestation of a rare Caribbean jellyfish right here in Buck’s Cove. He also explained how for years he had been leasing the mansion as both a summer home and an offsite office, that the original owners gave him permission to convert some basement rooms to a surgical suite.
They entered from the front and into a voluminous and stately foyer with a large mahogany staircase leading to the second floor.
He took her for a quick tour of the first floor. On the right was a huge living room with a large marble fireplace and upholstered chairs and sofas arranged on Oriental rugs. The water-side windows overlooked a darkening infinity broken up by the distant lights of Martha’s Vineyard.
The kitchen, a large open space, occupied a rear corner of the house so that dinners could be prepared with an ocean view. He went to the refrigerator for more champagne. Dana could still feel the drinks from the boat ride,
