“How? If you can’t trust your own people.”
“That’s why I’ve gone outside the Company. I’m doing this my way, with handpicked people I know I can count on.”
“And you’re telling us all this because you trust us?” Jane glanced at Frost. “That’s a change.”
“You two, at least, haven’t been corrupted by Icarus.”
“How do you know?”
Carole laughed. “Two homicide detectives, and one of you a Boy Scout.” She looked at Frost. “Oh, I did a background on you. I wasn’t joking when I called you one.” She looked at Jane. “And you have something of a reputation.”
“Do I?” said Jane.
“If I use the word bitch, don’t take offense. It’s what they call women like us. Because we don’t compromise, we don’t go halfway. We kick that ball all the way to the end zone.” She gave a slight bow. “There is honor between bitches.”
“Geez, I’m flattered.”
“My point,” said Carole, “is that it’s time we work together. If you want to keep those children alive, then you need me, and I need you.”
“Do you have an actual plan in mind, or is this just one of those in principle alliances?”
“I wouldn’t be alive if I didn’t make plans. We’re going to make Icarus reveal himself.”
“How?”
“It involves the children.”
“Okay,” said Frost, “I’m not liking what I’m hearing.”
“You haven’t heard it.”
“You mentioned the kids. There’s no way we’ll agree to put them in any danger.”
“They’re already in danger, don’t you get it?” Carole snapped. “I’m the only reason Claire and Will are alive right now. Because I was there to save them.”
“And now you want to use them?” Frost looked at Jane. “You know that’s what she’s planning.”
“Give her a chance to talk,” said Jane, her gaze fixed on Carole. She knew nothing about this woman, not even her real name, and Jane had not decided if she could trust her. Honor among bitches only worked if you knew the other bitch. All Jane knew was what she saw: an athletic blonde in her forties, wearing expensive boots and an even more expensive wristwatch. A woman who had about her the faint air of desperation. If what Carole had told them was true, then she’d been a Company operative since her midtwenties. For the past two years, she’d been continually on the move, under different names, which would have been difficult if she’d had a family tagging along. She’s a lone wolf, thought Jane. A survivor, who’d do what was necessary to stay alive.
“I know you’re concerned about the children,” said Carole. “But if we don’t end this, they’ll never be safe. As long as they live, they represent failure to Icarus. He needs to show the world that he can’t be fucked with. That if you cross him, he will be relentless. Think about what their lives will be like if we don’t kill him. Every year, they’ll need new identities, new homes. Running, always running. I know what that’s like, and it’s no life for a kid. Certainly not for teenagers hungry for friends and stability. This is their best chance for a normal life, and they don’t even have to know about it.”
“How are you going to keep this from them?”
“They’re already where they need to be. A defensible location. A monitored access road. A school staffed by teachers who will defend them.”
“Wait. Are you telling us that Anthony Sansone knows about this?”
“He knows only that they’re in danger and they need protection. I asked Dr. Welliver to share that much with him, but not the specifics.”
“So he doesn’t know about this operation?”
Carole’s gaze slipped away. “Even Dr. Welliver didn’t know.”
“And now she’s dead. How did that happen?”
“I don’t know why she killed herself. But I already have an agent on the property and more are coming. These are the last surviving children of my colleagues, and I will keep them safe. I owe it to them.”
“Is this really about the kids?” asked Jane. “Or is it all about you?”
The truth was there, in Carole’s face, and in the wry arch of her eyebrow, the faint tilt of her head. “Yes, I want my life back. But it won’t happen until I take him down.”
“If you even recognize him when you see him.”
“Any armed intruder will be brought down. We can sort out the bodies later.”
“How do you know that Icarus himself will show up?”
“Because I understand him. These children are high-value targets for him. So am I. He wants the satisfaction of personally seeing us die. With all of us in one location, he won’t be able to resist the bait.”
She looked at her watch. “I’m wasting time here. I need to get to Maine.”
“What do you expect from us?” asked Jane.
“To stay out of it.”
“Teddy Clock is my responsibility. And lady, you are way out of your jurisdiction.”
“The last thing I need are clueless cops shooting at their own shadows.” She glanced down as her cell phone rang. Turning away, she answered it with a brusque: “Talk to me.”
Though Jane could not see the woman’s face, she saw her spine suddenly stiffen, her shoulders snap straight. “We’re on our way,” she said, and disconnected.
“What happened?” asked Jane.
“I had an agent in place. At the school.”
“Had?”
“His body has just been found.” Carole looked at Jane. “It seems we’ve come to the final act.”
TWENTY-NINE
“We should evacuate,” said Sansone as he unlocked the safe in the curiosities room. He swung open the safe to reveal a handgun stored inside. Maura watched him swiftly load nine-millimeter bullets into the magazine, and was startled by his obvious familiarity with the weapon. She had never even seen him hold a gun before; clearly he was not only comfortable with the weapon but also prepared to use it. “If we wake up the kids now,” he said, “we could be on the road within ten minutes.”
“And where would we take them?” said Maura. “Outside those gates, we’re vulnerable. You’ve turned this castle into a fortress, Anthony. You have a security system, unbreachable doors.” And a gun, she thought, watching him slide the magazine into place. “Jane told us to batten down and wait till she gets here. That’s what we should do.”
“As secure as I’ve made this castle, we’re still a stationary target.”
“Safer inside than out there. Jane was very clear on the phone. Stay together. Stay in the building. Trust no one.”
He tucked the gun in his belt. “Let’s make one last perimeter check,” he said and left the curiosities room.
Nightfall had brought a new chill to the air, and as she followed him into the entrance hall, the temperature seemed to drop even more. She hugged herself as she watched him check the front door, as he scanned the electronic security panel and confirmed that the system was armed, all zones secure.
“Detective Rizzoli could have told us more on the phone,” Sansone said as he moved on to the dining hall where he inspected windows, tested locks. “We don’t know what the hell we’re fighting.”
“She said she wasn’t allowed to tell us more. We just have to do exactly what she told us.”
“Her judgment isn’t infallible.”
“Well, I trust her.”
“And you don’t trust me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, one they both knew was true. He turned to face her, and she felt an unsettling thrill of attraction. But she saw too many shadows in his eyes, too many secrets. And she thought about the startling ease with which he’d handled the gun, yet another detail she had not known about him.
“I don’t even know who you are, Anthony,” she said.
“Someday,” he said with a faint smile, “maybe you’ll want to find out.”
They left the dining hall and moved on to the library. With most of the students and faculty gone, the castle was e
erily silent, and at this late hour it was easy to believe that they were utterly alone. The last inhabitants of an abandoned citadel.
“Do you think you could ever learn to trust me, Maura?” he asked as he walked from window to window, a somber guardian moving through the gloom. “Or will there always be this tension between us?”
“You could start by being more open with me,” she said.
“We could both take that advice.” He paused. “You and Daniel Brophy. Are you still together?”
At the mention of Daniel’s name, she halted in her tracks. “Why do you ask?”
“You must have an answer.” He turned to her, the shadows from the overhanging alcove hiding his eyes.
“Love isn’t cut and dried, Anthony. It’s messy and it’s heartbreaking. Sometimes there are no endings.”
In the gloom, she could just make out his knowing smile. “Yet another reason you and I are alike. Beyond our personal tragedies, beyond the work we do. We’re both lonely,” he said softly.
In the silence of that library, the sudden ringing of the telephone was all the more startling. As he crossed the room to pick up the extension, she stood rooted to the spot, unsettled by what he’d just said. And shaken by the truth of it. Yes, we are lonely. Both of us.
“Dr. Isles is right here,” she heard him say into the phone.
Jane’s calling was Maura’s first thought. But when she took the receiver, it was the Maine medical examiner on the line.
“I just wondered if you ever got my message. Since I didn’t hear back from you,” said Dr. Emma Owen.
“You called? When?”
“Around dinnertime. I spoke to one of the teachers. Some grumpy-sounding guy.”
“That would be Dr. Pasquantonio.”
“That’s his name. I guess he forgot to tell you. I’m about to climb into bed, and I thought I’d give you another call, since you did ask me to expedite this.”
“Is this about the tox screen?”
“Yes. Now, I’ve got to ask you. Was Dr. Welliver really a shrink?”
“She was a clinical psychologist.”
“Well, she was doing a little mind bending on her own. The tox screen turned up lysergic acid diethylamide.”
Maura turned and stared at Sansone as she said, “That can’t be right.”
“We still have to confirm it with HPLC-fluorescence, but it looks like your Dr. Welliver was tripping out on LSD. Now, I know some shrinks consider it therapeutic. A way to open your mind to spiritual experiences, yada yada. But she was working in a school, for God’s sake. Dropping acid is not exactly role-model behavior.”
Maura stood very still, the phone pressed so tightly to her ear she could hear her own pulse. “That fall from the roof …”
“Very possibly a result of hallucinations. Or acute psychosis. You remember that CIA experiment years ago, when they gave some poor guy LSD and he jumped out the window? You can’t predict how a subject will react on the drug.”
Maura thought about the stray crystals on the bathroom floor, scattered when someone had emptied the sugar bowl into the toilet. Disposing of the evidence.
“… I’m going to have to reclassify this death as an accident. Not suicide,” said Dr. Owen. “Fall from a height after ingestion of hallucinogens.”
“LSD can be synthesized,” cut in Maura.
“Um, yeah. I suppose. Wasn’t it first isolated from some fungus grown on rye plants?”
And who knows more about plants than Professor David Pasquantonio?
“Oh my God,” Maura whispered.
“Is there a problem?”
“I have to go.” She hung up and turned to Sansone, who stood right beside her, his eyes filled with questions. “We can’t stay,” she said. “We have to get the children and leave now.”
“Why? Maura, what’s changed?”
“The killer,” she said. “He’s already inside the castle.”
THIRTY
“Where are the others?” Maura asked.
Julian squinted at them from his doorway, eyes still dazed with sleep. He stood bare-chested, wearing only boxer shorts, his hair standing up in all directions. A sleepy teenager who clearly wanted only to crawl back into bed. Yawning, he rubbed his chin, where the first dark stubble of a beard had sprouted. “Aren’t they in bed?”
“Will and Teddy and Claire aren’t in their rooms,” said Sansone.
“They were there when I checked on them.”
“When was that?”
“I don’t know. Ten thirty, maybe.” Julian suddenly focused on the gun tucked into Sansone’s waistband, and he straightened in alarm. “What’s going on?”
“Julian,” said Maura. “We need to find them now. And we need to be quiet about it.”
“Hold on,” he said, ducking back into his room. A moment later he reemerged dressed in blue jeans and sneakers. With Bear at his heels, he headed down the hall and stepped into Will and Teddy’s room.
“I don’t get it,” he said, frowning at the empty beds. “The boys were both in here, already in their pajamas.”
“They didn’t say anything about going out?”
“They know they’re supposed to stay inside tonight. Especially tonight.” Julian spun around and headed across the hall. Maura and Sansone followed him into Claire’s room, where they all stood surveying the books spread haphazardly on the desk, the sweatshirt and dirty socks lying in a heap in the corner. Nothing alarming here, just the typical disorder of a teenager’s room. “It doesn’t make sense that they’d leave,” said Julian. “They’re not stupid.”
Suddenly Maura was aware of how deep the silence was. As deep as the earth, as deep as the grave. If any other souls were in the castle, she could not hear them. She dreaded the thought of searching every room, every alcove and stairway, in a fortress that had already been breached by a killer.
The dog’s whine startled her. She looked down at Bear, who returned the look with an eerie gleam of intelligence in his eyes. “He can help us search,” she said. “He just needs their scent.”
“He’s not a bloodhound,” Julian pointed out.
“But he is a dog, with a dog’s sense of smell. He can track them, if we make him understand what we’re searching for.” She glanced at the mound of Claire’s discarded clothes. “Give him a whiff of those,” she said. “Let’s see where he takes us.”
Julian pulled a leash from his pocket, clipped it to Bear’s collar, and led him to the pile of dirty laundry. “Here, boy,” he urged. “Take a good sniff. That’s what Claire smells like. You know Claire, don’t you?” He cupped the dog’s enormous head in his hands and stared straight into Bear’s eyes. The connection between them was something deep, even sacred. It had been forged in the Wyoming mountains, where boy and dog had learned to rely on each other, where survival had meant complete trust between them. Maura watched in wonderment as understanding seemed to light the dog’s eyes. Bear turned toward the door and barked.
“Come on,” said Julian. “Let’s go find Claire.”
Bear tugged on the leash, leading the boy out of the room. But instead of heading toward the main stairway, the dog moved down the corridor, toward the deserted wing of the building where the shadows were deeper, where doors gaped open, revealing empty rooms with sheet-draped furniture. They passed an oil portrait of a woman in red, a woman with eyes that seemed to stare at Maura with strangely metallic brightness, as though lit from within by some secret knowledge.
“He’s headed toward the old servants’ staircase,” said Sansone.
Bear halted and stared down the steps, as if pondering the wisdom of descending into that gloom. He glanced back at Julian, who nodded. Bear started down the narrow stairs, claws clicking on wood. Unlike the banister in the grand staircase, this oak railing was unadorned with elaborate carvings, the wood rubbed smooth over the decades by the hands of multiple servants who had quietly kept the castle tidy and its guests fed. A chill seemed to cling to the air, as if the ghosts of
those long-dead servants still lingered in this passage, forever flitting up and down with brooms and breakfast trays. Maura could almost feel one of those ghosts whisper past her like a cold breeze, and she glanced over her shoulder but saw only deserted stairs ascending into the gloom.
They moved down two flights and still they kept descending, toward the basement level. Maura had never been down this far, into the deepest part of Evensong. These steps seemed to lead into the heart of the mountain itself, into closed spaces. She could smell it in the air, could feel it in the dampness.
They arrived at the bottom of the steps and walked into the cavernous kitchen, where Maura saw massive stainless-steel stoves, a walk-in refrigerator, and ceiling racks where pots and pans hung. So this was where their morning eggs were fried and their bread was baked. At this hour the kitchen was deserted, the crockery and utensils stowed until morning.
Bear suddenly froze, staring at a cellar door. The ruff of his neck stood up and he growled, a sound that sent fear screaming up Maura’s spine. Something was behind that door, something that alarmed the dog, made him drop to a crouch, as though preparing for attack.
Metal clanged, loud as a cymbal crash.
Maura jumped, heart slamming, as the echoes faded in the kitchen. She felt Sansone holding her arm, but she didn’t remember when he’d grasped it. It was simply there, as if he had always been there to steady her.
“I think I see him,” Sansone said quietly. Calmly. He released Maura’s arm and started across the kitchen.
“Anthony—”
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He rounded the kitchen island and knelt down, dropping from view. Though she couldn’t see him, she heard his voice, murmuring gently. “Hey, you’re safe. We’re here, son.”
She and Julian glanced uneasily at each other, then followed Sansone around the corner of the island. There they found him crouched over a trembling Teddy Clock. The boy was curled into a tight ball, knees shoved up to his chest, arms hugging himself.
“He seems to be fine,” said Sansone, glancing up at her.
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