Black Notice - Cornwell Patricia (читать книги онлайн без TXT) 📗

He briskly walked away before I could tip him. Marino and I both stood in our doorways staring inside our rooms.

"This is weirding me out;' he said. "I don't like secret squirrel shit like this: How the hell do we know who he is? I bet he don't even work for this hotel."

"Marino, let's not have this conversation in the hall," I said quietly. I thought if I did not have even a few moments away from him I might become violent.

"So, when you want to eat?"

"How about I call your room;" I said.

"Well-, I'm really hungry."

"Why don't you go on to the cafй, Marino?" I suggested, praying he would. "I'll get something later."

"No, I think we better stick together, Doc," he replied.

I walked inside my room and shut the door, astonished to discover my suitcase unpacked, my clothes neatly folded and already in drawers. Slacks, shirts and a suit were hanging in the closet, toiletries lined up on the counter in the bathroom. Instantly, my phone rang. I had no doubt who it was.

"What?" I said.

"They got into my shit and put everything away!" Marino blared like a radio turned up too high. "Now, I've about had it. I don't like nobody digging in my bags. Who the hell they think they are over here? This some French custom or something? You check into a ritzy hotel and they go through your luggage?"

"No, it's not a French custom," I said:

"So it must be some Interpol custom;" he retorted.

"I'll call you later."

A fruit basket and bottle of wine centered a table, and I sliced a blood orange and poured a glass of merlot. I pulled back heavy drapes and stared out the window at people in evening dress getting into fine cars. Gilt sculptures on the old opera house across the street flaunted their golden, naked beauty before the gods, and chimney pots were dark stubble on miles of roofs. I felt anxious and lonely and intruded upon.

I took a long bath and thought about abandoning Marino for the rest of the night, but decency overruled. He had never been to Europe before, certainly not to Paris, and more to the point, I was afraid of leaving him alone. I dialed his extension and asked if he wanted to have a light dinner sent up. He picked pizza, despite my warning that Paris wasn't known for it, and he raided my minibar for beer. I ordered oysters on the half shell and nothing more, and turned the lights very low because I'd seen enough for one day.

"There's something I've been thinking about," he said after the food had arrived. "I don't like to bring it up, Doc, but I'm getting a really oddball feeling, odd as hell. I mean, well"-he took a bite of pizza-"I'm just wondering if you're feeling it, too. If the same thing might be floating in your head, sort of out of nowhere like a UFO."

I put down my fork. The lights of the city sparkled beyond my windows and even in the dim lighting I could see his fear. I responded in kind.

"I haven't a clue as to what you're talking about," I said, reaching for my wine.

"Okay, I just think we need to consider something for a minute:'

I didn't want to listen.

"Well, first you get this letter delivered by a United States senator who just happens to be the chairman of the Judiciary Committee, meaning he's got about as much power with federal law enforcement as any other person I can think of. Meaning he's going to know all kinds of shit going on with Secret Service, ATF, FBI, you name it."

An alarm began to sound inside me.

"You gotta admit it's interesting timing that Senator Lord delivers this letter to you from Benton and now all of a sudden we're over here going to Interpol… "

"Let's don't do this." I cut him off as my stomach tightened and my heart began to pound.

"You gotta hear me out, Doc," he replied. "In the letter Benton's saying for you to stop grieving, that everything's all right and he knows what you're doing right this minute..:' "Stop it!" I raised my voice and threw my napkin on the table as emotions began crashing in on all sides.

"We got to face it" Marino was getting emotional; too. "How do you know… I mean, what if the letter really wasn't written several years ago? What if it was written now…?"

"No! How dare you!" I exclaimed as tears filled my eyes.

I pushed back my chair and got up.

"Leave," I told him. "I won't be subjected to your goddamn UFO theories. What do you want? To make me live through this hell all over again? So I can hope for something when I've worked so hard to accept the truth? Get out of my room."

Marino. pushed back his chair, and it fell over as he jumped to his feet. He snatched his pack of cigarettes off the table.

"What if he's fucking still alive?" He raised his voice, too. "How do you know for a fact he didn't have to disappear for a while because of some big thing going on that involves ATF, FBI, Interpol, shit, maybe NASA, for all we know?"

I grabbed my wine, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold it without spilling, my entire existence ripped open again. Marino was stalking the room and gesturing wildly with his cigarette.

"You don't know it for a fact," he said again. "All you saw was burned-up bone in a stinking black fire hole. And a Breiding watch like his. So fucking what!"

"You son of a bitch!" I said. "You goddamn son of a bitch! After all I've been through; and then you have to…"

"You're not the only one who's been through it. You know, just because you slept with him doesn't mean you fucking owned him."

I took quick steps toward him and caught myself before I slapped him hard across the face.

"Oh, God," I muttered as I stared into his shocked eyes. "Oh, God."

I thought of Lucy striking Jo, and I walked away from him. He turned to the window and smoked. The room was overcast with misery and shame, and I leaned my head against the wall and shut my eyes. I'd never come even close to violence with anyone in my life, not anyone like this, not someone I knew and cared about.

"Nietzsche was right;" I muttered in a defeated way. "Be careful who you choose for an enemy because that's who you become most like."

"I'm sorry," Marino barely said.

"Like my first husband, like my idiot sister, like every out-of-control cruel, selfish person I've ever known. Here I am. Like them."

"No, you ain't."

My forehead was pressed against the wall, as if I were praying, and I was grateful we were in shadows, my back to him, so he could not see my anguish.

"I didn't mean what I said, Doc. I swear I didn't. I don't even know why I said it."

"It's all right."

"All I'm trying to do is look at everything because there's pieces that aren't fitting right."

He walked over to an ashtray and stabbed out his cigarette.

"I don't know why we're here," he said.

"We're not here to do this," I said.

"Well, I don't know why they couldn't have exchanged info with us through the computer, over the phone, like they always do. Do you?"

"No," I whispered as I took a deep breath.

"So it started sneaking into my thoughts that maybe Benton… What if there was something going on and he had to be a protected witness for a while. Change his identity and all that. We didn't always know what he was into. Not even you always knew, because he couldn't always tell you, and he would never want to hurt us by telling us something we shouldn't know. Especially not hurt you or make you worry about him all the time."

I did not answer him.

"I'm not trying to stir anything up. I'm just saying it's something we should think about," he lamely added.

"No, it isn't," I replied, clearing my throat and aching all over. "It's not something we should think about. He was identified, Marino, by every possible means. Carrie Grethen didn't just conveniently kill him so he could disappear for a while. Don't you see how impossible this is? He's dead, Marino. He's dead:"