Dead Certain

described. Are you sure you saw them when you left the apartment that morning?”
    “Yes. They were on the dining room table. Where did you look at the hospital? Maybe she left them someplace weird....”
    “By the time we got to the hospital, the head of her department had already gone in and emptied out her locker and retrieved all of her things. He said he didn’t want the sight of them to traumatize her coworkers any more than they already were by her death. It was all boxed up and ready for us. No backpack. No notes.”
    “So if it wasn’t Carlos, who was it?”
    “Well, from what the medical examiner’s saying, I think we can pretty much rule out a surprised burglar, unless they’re starting to carry hypodermics filled with anesthesia stuff around with them,” Blades replied. “Which means that it was premeditated,” said Elliott. “Looks that way,” said Blades, “and from what Kate is telling me, we’re probably looking at this as a series of related crimes.” From the weariness in his voice, I could tell he was less than thrilled by the prospect. “I’m going to go to the D.A. Monday morning and see if I can get him to sign on to opening up an investigation.” His beeper went off at his waist, and Elliott slid him his cell phone so that he could call in to the dispatch operator. He punched in the number and pulled out the little notebook he invariably kept in his jacket pocket. Apparently the conversation was one-sided, because as soon as he’d identified himself, he started writing. When he was finished, he handed Elliott back his phone and said, “Got to go, kids. Duty calls.”
    “What’s up?” asked Elliott.
    “Somebody just turned up ten-seven in a vacant lot on King Drive.”
    “Ten-seven?” I asked.
    “Police communication code for ‘out of service,’ ” Elliott informed me as he got to his feet to shake Joe’s hand good-bye.
    “It’s probably nothing. Just a little friendly competition among heavily armed drug dealers,” sighed Blades. “I’ll take that kind of case any day over a string of mysterious deaths at a highly respected hospital.”
     
    After Joe left, Elliott slid into his place so that he could face me from across the table. I kicked off my high heels and slipped my stockinged feet into Elliott’s lap.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    I didn’t answer. Instead I picked up a chopstick and started pushing grains of rice around a plate.
    “You know that eventually Joe will get this guy, whoever he is.”
    “I know,” I sighed. “It’s the eventually part that I don’t like. With Joe going to the D.A., you know as well as I do what we’re talking about—a massive investigation that drags out over months. Not only will I have to read Claudia’s name in the newspaper every day, but also the damage to the hospital will be irreparable. How many old rich guys do you think are going to want their name associated with a place where they let somebody run around killing patients? Now we have no choice but to sell to HCC....”
    “I know you’ve suffered a terrible loss,” said Elliott gravely, “and I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. But this doesn’t sound like you at all.”
    “What do you mean? I’m just being realistic—“
    “That’s exactly my point,” said Elliott. “Normally I wouldn’t expect you to be worried about what was realistic.”
    “What would you expect me to be worried about?” I asked.
    “The Kate I’m in love with would be worried about what was right.”
     

CHAPTER 27
     
    It was strange coming home to the new apartment. It was so big and so empty. Everything in it seemed unfamiliar; I’d picked it all from photographs and fabric swatches. And although I’d studied the decorator’s drawings for months, seeing the floor plan sketched out was one thing, while walking through a room filled with actual furniture was another. I was glad that Elliott hadn’t offered to come home with me. I wasn’t sure I would have had the strength to say no, and yet I knew I didn’t want our first night together to be tainted by tragedy.
    I bolted the door behind me and switched on the alarm. Then I walked through, turning on every light in the place. On the kitchen table I was surprised to find a tumble of Marshall Field’s bags and a note from my mother, who’d apparently taken it upon herself to go shopping. There were sheets and pillows, a terry cloth bathrobe, scented soap, and a pound of coffee and a box of