Silent Prey

tight. “That’s the word, all right. Dick.”
    “Be serious.”
    “All right. How’s this: I really do need you; it’s the thing that keeps my heart going . . . .”
    Much later, when he was sleeping, she thought: They can all make you feel guilty; it’s what they do best.  . . .

CHAPTER
14
    The phone rang early and Lucas rolled out of the blankets, dropped his feet to the floor and sat a moment before he picked up the receiver. “Yeah?”
    “How’s your head?” Kennett sounded wide awake and almost chipper.
    “Better,” Lucas said. He couldn’t seem to focus and noticed that the window shade was bright with low-angle sunshine. “What time is it?”
    “Seven o’clock.”
    “Ah, Jesus, man, I don’t get up at seven . . . .” His face hurt again, and when he turned toward the bed, he noticed a spot of blood on the pillowcase.
    “Hey, it’s a great day, but it’s gonna be hot,” Kennett said cheerfully.
    “Thanks. If you hadn’t called, I woulda had to look out the window . . . .” What’s going on?
    “I understand that you and Fell talked to a guy named Whitechurch yesterday, at Bellevue?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Bekker took him off last night.”
    “What?” Lucas stood up, trying to understand.
    “Shot him in a hallway. Cut his eyes,” Kennett said.
    “The morgue guys said it’s gotta be Bekker, ’cause it was done too well to be a copycat. And with you talking to him about Bekker, there’s no way it’s a coincidence. When they called me, a couple of hours ago now, I shipped Carter over to the hospital. Somebody there finally figured out that cops were talking to Whitechurch yesterday . . . .”
    “Ah, Jesus,” Lucas said. “Whitechurch was wrong, too. We knew it. We knew he was bullshitting us.”
    “How’d you get onto him?”
    “A fence,” Lucas said. “Down on the Lower East Side.”
    “Smith?”
    “No, a small-timer, a woman named Arnold. We’ll go back and talk to her, but I don’t think she has any connection with Whitechurch except to handle occasional shipments from him. But why was Bekker talking to Whitechurch again? More equipment?”
    “Whitechurch was dealing dope,” Kennett said.
    “Ah. For sure?”
    “Yeah, we got it from a couple of places. And I’d bet that’s where the halothane is from.”
    “Telephones?”
    “We sent a subpoena over, and the phone company’s mopping up their computers right now. They’ll run back all the calls that came into Whitechurch’s apartment and his office phone, both, and where they came from, for the last two months.”
    “That should do it,” Lucas said. “Fell’s got a beeper: if you find him, call us. I’d like to see the end of it.”
    “Mmm. It doesn’t feel that easy,” Kennett said.
    “All right. Well: I’ll get Fell and get back to the fence.Goddammit, why’d Whitechurch cover for him? That’d be something to figure out.”
     
    Lucas called Fell and told her.
    “Did we mess it up?” she asked anxiously.
    “No. We barely touched the guy—there was no way to know. But Kennett’s people are all over him now. Everybody who knew him. We’ve got to talk to what’s-her-name, the fence.”
    “Arnold. Rose.”
    “Yeah . . . So what’s your status? Are you ready?” Lucas asked.
    “Hey, I’m just sitting here on my bed, buck naked, half asleep.”
    “Jesus, if you had a warm croissant and a cup of coffee, I’d come right over,” Lucas said. The nude photo of Fell and the other cop popped up in his head.
    “Fuck you, Davenport,” Fell said, laughing. “If you’re ready, why don’t you get a cab? I’ll be out front by the time you get here.”
    “You come get me,” Lucas said. “I’m barely awake, and I gotta shave.” He touched his raw cheek.
    “Be ready,” she said.
    Fell, when she arrived, was wearing a black tailored cotton dress with small flowers—the kind of dress women wore in Moline, Illinois—black low heels and nylons.
    “Jesus, you look terrific,” Lucas said, climbing into the cab behind her.
    She blushed and said, “We just gonna walk in on Arnold?”
    “You don’t want to talk about how terrific you look?”
    “Hey, just shut the fuck up, okay, Davenport?” she said.
    “Anything you want . . .” Under his breath, he added, “Toots.”
    “What? What’d you just say?”
    “Nothing,” Lucas said innocently.
    She closed one eye and said, “You’re walking on the edge, buddy.”
     
    Arnold was scared. “He maybe got done