there was no mention of the bloodletting, fire, and mayhem in Neola the night before.
Incredible , he'd thought if they can keep that covered up. It must be the CIA or Homeland Security or some serious federal agency involved. Either that or the local authorities kept it all hushed up .
But why train an illegal Yemeni immigrant trained as a mechanic, to kill a parole officer? If the feds were covering up for the Major's drug-and-spy operation down there, why draw attention by shooting Peg O'Toole? None of it made any sense.
"None of this makes any sense," said Arlene. She batted ashes into an old beanbag ashtray.
Kurtz just sighed. He expected the front door to be kicked in with a hydraulic ram any moment and for Paul Kemper to lead a SWAT team in.
As if reading his mind again, Arlene said, "Gail will call from the hospital as soon as she hears about Detective King."
Kurtz had told her about Rigby. Arlene's sister-in-law was a pediatric nurse at Erie County, and it was the only way he was going to find out whether Rigby King was dead or alive.
"Were you going to call the ex-director today?" asked Arlene.
"Who?" Kurtz had no idea what she was talking about. His head seemed to be full of bees. I don't know why. I got a full two hours sleep .
"The ex-director of the Rochester Psychiatric Hospital," Arlene said patiently. "You asked me to get his home phone, remember? He's living in Ontario on the Lake." She handed him a slip of paper with the number on it.
"All right," said Kurtz. "Can I use your kitchen phone?"
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
It's Halloween . As if he had to be reminded. It was raining off and on and the air smelled like the rain wanted to turn to snow. It was almost cold enough.
Kurtz was wearing another dark outfit, black jeans, the Mephistos, and dark sweater, all under his peacoat He'd tugged a navy watch cap down gingerly over his aching scalp. He'd borrowed Arlene's Buick, leaving her and Aysha the Pinto. But they wouldn't be using it tonight. Gail DeMarco's second-floor apartment on Colvin north of the park was smallone small bedroom for Gail and a tinier one for Rachel, but they didn't seem to mind sharing tonight. Arlene said that she was going to bunk with Gail, Aysha was going to get the fold-out couch, and they were all going to make some popcorn tonight and watch videos of "The Thing from Another World" and "The Day the Earth Stood Still" in honor of Halloween. Rachel would love the company, Gail had said.
Kurtz's mind wanted to linger on Rachel, but he skittered away from that topic, recalling his conversation with Dr. Charles from the psychiatric hospital instead.
"Yes, of course I remember the fire," the old gentleman had said. "A terrible thing. We never did find out how it started. Several people died."
"Including Sean Michael O'Toole?" said Kurtz.
"Yes." A pause. "Did you say you worked for the Buffalo Evening News , Mr. Kurtz?"
"No, I'm a freelancer. Doing a magazine article. School shootings are hot these days and Sean Michael O'Toole was an early school-shooter."
"Yes," Dr. Charles said sadly. "Columbine still seems fresh, even after all these years."
"Did you ever hear your patientSeanreferred to as the Dodger?" asked Kurtz. "Or the Artful Dodger?"
"The Artful Dodger?" said the old man with a chuckle. "As in Dickens? No. I'm sure I would have remembered that."
"You say he had visitors the day of the fire," prompted Kurtz. "In fact, the fire broke out in the visitor's wing while they were there."
"Yes."
"Do you remember who the visitors were?"
"Well, one I certainly remember," said Dr. Charles. "It was Sean Michael's younger brother."
"His younger brother," repeated Kurtz, pausing as if he was writing this down. Arlene's kitchen looked out onto a tiny backyard. Sean Michael O'Toole had no siblings . "A year or two younger than Sean?" said Kurtz. "Redheaded?"
"Oh, no," said Dr. Charles. "I met him and his friend when they signed in to see Sean. Michael Junior was much younger
than our patienthe was only about twenty. Sean had just turned thirty that week. And Sean's younger brother didn't look at all like Seanmuch darker, much more handsome."
"I see," said Kurtz, although he didn't see at all. "And who was the other man visiting?"
"I don't remember. He didn't speak at all during the time I was chatting with Sean's younger brother. He seemeddistracted. Almost drugged."
"Was he, by any chance, about Sean's height and age and weight?" said Kurtz.
The doctor was silent for a moment while he tried to recall. "Yes, I believe he was. It's been fifteen years, you know, andas I saidthe other visitor didn't speak when I was talking to Sean's brother."
"But both the brother and other man got out of the burning building all right?"
"Oh, yes." Dr. Charles sounded distressed by memories of the fire even after all these years. "There was much confusion, of coursefire engines arriving, patients and attendants screaming and running to and fro, but we made sure that all our visitors were safe."