"But you did pursue it, Mr. Carlson," Janek said.
Carlson nodded. "You bet I did! Over the next few days I thought a lot about what she'd done, how deep she'd gotten into me and how much worse it could have been. What if she'd given me an overdose? I could've died."
Janek studied Carlson. "There's more to it, isn't there?"
Carlson nodded again. "It was the writing. I couldn't get over the way she handled that, like she knew exactly what I was going to do. Wake up, stumble into the bathroom, look at myself in the mirror. So, very thoughtfully she wrote the message in mirror-writing. Think about that.
It's pretty amazing. It establishes total control. It also told me that it was important to her that I see myself through her eyes.
I was a jerk, a sucker-so she put a dunce's cap on my head. It's like she knew exactly what to do, played her game to a fault. She was… I don't know, almost superhuman. That's why I think she's dangerous, Lieutenant. Why I think she's got to be stopped."
"We'll stop her," Aaron said.
"Stiegel told me there's a ring of these girls. ' girls,' he called them. ' to guys all the time."
" Carlson's smile turned ironic, but Janek saw a haunted bitterness in his eyes. "What're you going to do? The city's falling apart. It's the new Calcutta, the new Beirut. Who cares if some magazine writer got rolled and it freaked him out? I mean, shit! The bridges are crumbling, the tunnels are corroding, the subway's a nightmare, the infrastructure's shot. In the parks, gangs go on wildings. Kids shoot each other in the schools. So, what's the big deal? I wasn't wounded. No blood was spilled. I've just got a little anxiety, that's all. But, I'll tell you something"-Carlson lowered his voice-"I'm planning to leave this place soon as I can. I'll probably end up in the suburbs doing corporate writing, annual reports, boring stuff I wouldn't have touched before." He laughed. "Who'll care, right?
I'm alive. A guy gets mugged and decides to leave-why should anyone care about that?"
Janek studied Carlson. The man had been deeply injured. "We care," he said softly.
"Yes, thank you. I can see you do. You're very kind." Carlson paused. "I don't sleep too well these days. I figure I was this close." He held his thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart. "Just this close to death..
Descending in the elevator, Aaron glanced at Janek. "To hear him tell it, we're looking for the most evil woman that ever lived."
"That sure is the way he sees her," Janek agreed. Out on the street he told Aaron he wanted to know everything there was to know about the "bad girls."
"How ' a briefing from Stiegel?"
"Do you know him?"
"I met him couple of times. Typical low-end detective."
"Have Sue get in touch with him, line up a meeting for me around six."
Aaron nodded.
"Meantime I want you to check out the Sonoron security guy, Stephen Kane. He says he used to work in the L.A. sheriff's office."
"Something wrong with him?"
Janek shrugged. "He didn't appeal to me. Maybe you can find me a reason."
He found Timmy Sheehan at O'Malley's, waiting at the bar. This time he had no difficulty recognizing him. Timmy's cheeks looked pinker than usual, and his thick gray hair, rising straight from his forehead, was badly in need of a cut. On closer inspection, the pinkness proved to be a web of tiny broken blood vessels on the surface of Timmy's face.
When they moved to a table in the rear, Janek got the impression that Timmy had been sitting in O'Malley's for some time, perhaps most of the afternoon, guzzling beers, munching on a corned beef sandwich or two, watching the day's interminable Yankees game on TV.
"So, how's the world traveler?" Timmy asked, arching his brows.
"You're looking at one tired cop," Janek said. "It wasn't the most enjoyable trip I ever took."
"Still, you made it back. Those Commies didn't eat you up?"
"They nearly did."
"Had some trouble, did you?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle. Anyway..
"Yeah, anyway-you talked with the lady?" Janek nodded. "Always wondered what she'd be like."
"She's an educated woman. Works as an economist in the Cuban Finance Ministry. Married to a guy who manages a citrus farm. Has a kid, a boy.
She's aged a little, Just like the rest of us."
"Yeah, isn't it funny how you get a fix on a person, then five, ten years later you run into them, and they're older. Always takes a minute or two to reorient yourself."
Janek knew that Timmy was stalling, that he was eager to hear what he'd found out, but was deliberately prolonging the small talk to demonstrate how little he cared. Timmy, he knew, would rather die than show interest; his position, restated ever since Mendoza's conviction, was that Mendoza was closed.
Janek decided to drop a bomb. "I saw Dakin this morning."
Timmy's eyelids didn't waver. "That must have been fun. How's the old guy doing? Still live out in that crap hole-what the hell they call it?
Cortland Park?" "Cort City Plaza," Janek said. "As if you didn't know."
Timmy beamed. "Known me too many years, partner. You see through all my tricks."
"I'm sure seeing through the one you think you're pulling on me now."
"Are you?" Timmy grinned. "And which one might that be?"
Janek shrugged. "Every traveler's got a tale."
"That so? Come to think of it, my grandmother used to say something like that." Timmy scratched his head. "She had another saying, too.
Want to hear it?"
"Why not?"
" ' let them see you cry." I never forgot that one. Kind of a good one to live by, don't you think?"
Janek put down his beer. "Can it, Timmy. You're as keen to hear what Tania said as Dakin was. Maybe more."
"I won't deny it, Frank-I'm a wee bit curious." He picked something out of his teeth. "Not that I give a rusty fuck."
"Of course not! So, now that's been established, let's get to the bottom line."