Chapter Fourteen
Mitchell Perkins, senior editor, nonfiction, Epimetheus Books, opened his eyes in his room on the fourth floor of St. Luke's-Roosevelt to discover Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook sitting in chairs at the end of his bed. The detective rose and stood beside him. 'How are you feeling, Mr. Perkins? Do you want me to call the nurse or anything?'
He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. 'Thirsty.' She spooned an ice chip from the cup on his rolling tray table and watched him savor it. 'Thank you… for helping my wife. Before my little nap she told me you had cops there in no time.'
'It all worked out, Mr. Perkins. Although you may not feel like that yourself, at this moment.' She gave him another plastic spoon of ice without being asked. 'Did you see who did this to you?'
He shook his head and registered some pain. 'Whoever it was came at me from behind. That's usually a safe neighborhood.'
'We're still sorting it all out, but I don't believe this was a random mugging.' Nikki set the cup down on the table. 'Putting this together with the attempted break-in at your apartment, this could be the same person.' Perkins nodded, as if he had been mulling that possibility, too. 'We can't be absolutely sure because your wife didn't see the burglar. She said someone forced open a window and the alarm went off. Whoever it was ran off.'
'If I were laying money down,' said Rook, 'I'd bet the route he took was Ninety-sixth Street.'
'Lucky me,' added Perkins.
Heat arched a skeptical brow. 'The perp was the lucky one. The other factor here is that you still have your wallet and watch.'
'He grabbed my briefcase.'
'Because that's probably what he wanted.' Nikki held up the ice cup, and he shook a 'No, thanks' then winced. 'Somebody has been on a tear to get their hands on that Cassidy Towne manuscript, Mr. Perkins.' Heat had been thus far unable to find a judge willing to test the First Amendment by issuing a warrant to search the publisher's files, and she labored to keep the frustration out of her voice. 'You know, the one you said you didn't have?'
'I didn't say I didn't have it.'
She heard Rook scoff behind her and knew he was thinking exactly what she was thinking: that Perkins must be feeling better, because he was parsing his words again. Put him in a suit, put him in an open-backed hospital johnny, he'd still lay down a smoke screen. She had to figure a way through it. 'Fine, you didn't say you didn't have it; you pretended you didn't. Has it occurred to you this may not be a time to mince words?'
The editor didn't answer. He rested his head back on the starched pillow.
'We know what was in your briefcase. We found the cover page. And we know the rest of the manuscript isn't there now.' She let that register and decided to make her move. 'Whoever did this is still out there. So far, we have useless descriptions to go on, so what we need is anything that can point to a motive.' She hated to beat on a guy with a concussion, a broken leg, and three cracked ribs, but that didn't mean she wouldn't. Nikki turned the top card from her deck. It was the fear card. 'Now, do you want to help, or do you want to take a chance this person will try something again-when you're not there and your wife may not be so lucky.'
He didn't have to think too long. 'I'll call my office and have them messenger you a copy of the manuscript right away.'
'We'll send someone to get it, if that's OK.'
'Whatever you want. You know, I was carrying it with me because I was this close to giving it to you on my way in. This close.' The editor's brow clouded briefly. 'Could have saved us all this, if only…' He let his admission trail off, then shifted uncomfortably, trying to sit up more so he could face her. 'You have to believe me when I tell you this, because I would understand if you were skeptical, given our… transactional history. But it's the God's truth.'
'Go on.'
'I don't have the final chapter. I don't. The material I have from her is incomplete. It only covers the backstory of Reed Wakefield's life and the months before his death. Cassidy was holding back the last chapter. She said it was the one that reveals the details of the people responsible for his death.'
Rook said, 'Wait a minute, that was ruled an accidental overdose. I thought Reed Wakefield died alone.'
Perkins shook his head. 'Not according to Cassidy Towne.'
Of course none of this squared with either the coroner's official findings or the information Nikki had gathered from her recent checks on the Dragonfly House with all the interviewees, including both managers, Derek Snow, and the housekeeper who found the body. Everything pointed to a drug user who accidentally overmedicated and died quietly and alone in his sleep, and who had no visitors the night before, or morning of, his discovery. 'Mr. Perkins, did Cassidy Towne say what she meant by 'people responsible'?' asked Heat.
'No.'
'Because that could mean a lot of different things if it's true. Like it's whoever sold him the drugs or handed him a prescription bottle.'
'Or,' said Rook, 'if he wasn't alone and the party in his room got out of hand. But that would mean nobody called the cops, nobody called an ambulance, that they just walked away and left him. That's worth covering up.'
Heat said, 'And Derek Snow worked at that hotel. Was he part of the cover-up? Or an unlucky eyewitness?'
'Or at the party,' speculated Rook.
'Unfortunately, we may never know,' said the editor. 'She never turned in that last chapter.'
'Was it because, possibly, she didn't know all of it?' asked the detective.
'No,' said Rook. 'Knowing Cassidy Towne, she knew what she had and was holding it for ransom.'
'Exactly right,' Perkins agreed. 'She had it all buttoned up in a sensational chapter that she said would reveal everything. And when she delivered the partial manuscript, she said she wanted to reopen negotiations on her deal. You wouldn't believe what she was asking for. The woman was trying to kill us.'
'Ironic,' said Rook. When Nikki gave him a chastening glance, he shrugged. 'Come on, you were thinking it.' Minutes later in the bull pen Nikki split Roach up. With Esteban Padilla also killed by whoever killed Cassidy Towne and Derek Snow, she put Ochoa on the task of checking Padilla's limo company for a Reed Wakefield passenger manifest on or before the night he died. She assigned Raley to canvass for surveillance tape of Mitchell Perkins's mugging. Rook ended a phone call and joined them in the middle of the room.
'Just got off with Perkins's assistant at Epimetheus Books. They made a PDF of her manuscript and they're going to e-mail it. Should get here before the hard copy arrives, so we can dive right in.'
Nikki's attention drifted to the murder board and the list of names on it in her neat block printing. 'If what Perkins says is true and the last chapter is still out there, that means someone is still going to be looking for it.' And then, turning to them so they could read her apprehension, she added, 'And won't stop at anything to get it.'
'The book guy was lucky. How's he doing?' asked Raley.
'Hurting, but he'll make it,' answered Heat. 'I think a lot of his pain is realizing he could have avoided all this if he had just shared the manuscript when we asked for it.'
'Just one more irony,' Rook said. 'Epimetheus?… The Greek god of hindsight.' They all stared at him. 'True fact. Alex, I'll take 'Moons of Saturn' for a thousand.' It was time to get Soleil Gray in a more official setting. But Reed Wakefield's ex-fiancee responded in kind by showing up in Interrogation 1 with her attorney, one of the most aggressive, successful-and, as a result, expensive-criminal lawyers in the city. Detective Heat knew Helen Miksit from days when she was glad to be in the same room with her. She had been a tough prosecutor who collected guilty verdicts like scalps and made cops want to send flowers. But six years ago, Miksit left the DA's office and crossed the aisle for profit. Her wardrobe had changed, but her demeanor hadn't. The Bulldog, as they called her, made her opening move before Heat and Rook even sat down across the table. 'This is bullshit, and you know it.'
'Nice to see you again, too, Helen.' Nikki slid into her chair, unfazed.
'We're past the pleasantries on this one, I'm afraid. My client has filled me in on your serial badgering and I have advised her to say nothing to you.' Beside her, Soleil Gray was occupying herself by nibbling at a loose piece of
