Black Notice - Cornwell Patricia - Страница 38

Even as I said it, Marino came to mind. He said he was going to fix Ruffin, and maybe he just did by somehow finding out the news and gleefully spreading it.

"Supposedly Bray's the, one who gave him the boot," Posner went on.

Moments later, Ruffin returned with a plastic bag in hand. We left the decomposed room and washed up in our respective locker rooms. I took my time. I made him wait in the hall, knowing his anxiety was heating up with every second that went by. When I finally emerged, we walked together in silence, and he stopped twice to take a nervous drink of water.

"I hope I'm not getting a fever;" he said.

I stopped and looked at him, and-he involuntarily jerked away when I placed the back- of my hand on his cheek.

"I think you're fine," I said.

I accompanied him through the lobby and into the parking lot, and by now he was clearly frightened.

"Is something wrong?" he finally asked, clearing his throat and putting on sunglasses.

"Why would you ask me that?" I innocently said.

"You walking me out here and everything."

"I'm heading to my car."

"I'm sorry I said to you what I did about problems here and the Internet stuff and everything," he said. "I knew it was better to keep it to myself, that you would get mad at me."

"Why would you think I'm mad at you?" I asked as I unlocked my car.

He seemed at a loss for words. I opened the trunk and set the plastic bag inside it.

"You got a nick on the paint there. Probably. from a kicked-up rock, but it's starting to rust…"

"Chuck, I want you to hear what I'm saying;" I calmly told him. "I know"

"What? I don't understand what you mean." He tripped over words.

"You understand completely."

I got into the front seat and turned on the engine.

"Get in, Chuck," I said. "You don't need to stand out in the cold. Especially since you're not feeling well."

He hesitated and exuded fear like an odor as he walked around to the passenger's side.

"Sorry you weren't able to make it to Buckhead's. We had an interesting conversation with Deputy Chief Bray," I said as he shut his door.

His mouth fell open.

"It's a relief to me to have so many questions answered at last," I went on. "E-mail, the Internet, rumors about my career, leaks."

I waited to see what he would say to this and was startled when he blurted out, "That's why I suddenly didn't make it into the academy, isn't it? You see her last night and this morning I get the news. You bad-mouthed me, told her not to hire me, then spread it everywhere to embarrass me."

"Your name never came up once. And I most certainly haven't spread anything about you anywhere."

"Bullshit:' His angry voice trembled as if he might cry. "I've wanted to be a cop all my life, and now you ruined it!"

"No, Chuck, you ruined it."

"Call the chief and say something. You can, you can," he begged like a distraught child. "Please."

"Why were you meeting Bray last night?"

"Because she told me to. I don't know what she wanted. She just sent me a page and told me to be in the parking lot at Buckhead's at five-thirty."

"And of course, in her mind you never showed up. I expect that may have something to do with why you got bad news this morning. What do you think?"

"I guess," he mumbled.

"How are you feeling? Still sick? If not, I've got to head out to Petersburg, and I think you should ride with me so we can finish this conversation."

"Well, I..:'

"Well what, Chuck?"

"I want to finish the conversation, too," he said.

"Start with how you know Deputy Chief Bray. I find it rather extraordinary that you should have what seems to be a personal relationship with the most powerful person in the police department."

"Imagine how I felt when it all started;" he innocently said. "See, Detective Anderson called me a couple months ago, said she was new and wanted to ask me questions about the M.E: s office, about our procedures, and could I meet her at the River City Diner for lunch. That was when I got on the road to hell, and I know I should've said something to you about her call. I should've told you what I was doing. But you were teaching classes most of the day and I didn't want to bother you, and Dr. Fielding was in court. So I told Anderson I'd be glad to help her out."

"Well, it's pretty obvious she didn't learn anything."

"She was setting me up," he said, "and when I walked into the River City Diner, I couldn't believe it. She was sitting in a booth with Deputy Chief Bray, and she told me she wanted to know all about the way our office runs,too. “ "Who did?"

"Bray did."

"I see. Big surprise," I said.

"I guess I was really flattered but nervous, too, because I didn't understand what was going on. I mean, next thing, she's telling me to walk back to police headquarters with her and Anderson."

"Why didn't you tell me all this at the time?" I said as we drove toward Fifth Street to pick up I-95 South.

"I don't know…" His voice trailed off.

"I think you do."

"I was scared."

"Might it have anything to do with your ambition of becoming a police officer?"

"Well, let's face it," he said. "What better connection could I have? And somehow she knew I was interested and when we got to her office, she closed the door and sat me across from her desk."

"`Was Anderson there?"

"Just Bray and me. She said that with my experience I might think about becoming a crime-scene technician. I felt like I'd won the lottery."

I was working hard at keeping my distance from cement barriers and aggressive drivers while Ruffin continued his choirboy act.

"I have to admit I was in a dream after that and lost interest in my job, and I'm sorry for that," he said. "But it wasn't until two weeks later that Bray e-mailed me..:' "Where did she get your e-mail address?"

"Uh, she asked for it. So she e-mailed me and said she wanted me to drop by her house at five-thirty, that she had something very confidential to discuss with me.

"And I'm telling you, Dr. Scarpetta, I didn't want to go. I knew something bad was going to come out of it."

"Such as?"

"I halfway wondered if maybe she was going to hit on me or something."

"Did she? What happened when you got to her house?" I asked.

"Gosh, this is-really hard to say."

"Say it."

"She got me a beer and moved her chair real close to the couch where I was sitting. She asked me all kinds of questions about myself like she was really interested in me as a person. And..:"

A loaded-down logging truck pulled in front of me and I sped around it.

"I hate those things," I said.

"Me, too," Chuck said, and his shoe-licking tone was making me sick.

"And what? You were telling me?" I said.

He took a deep breath. He got very interested in the trucks bearing down on us and the men working with mounds of asphalt on the roadside. It seemed as if this stretch of I-95 near Petersburg had been under construction since the Civil War.

"She wasn't in a uniform, if you get what I mean," he resumed with overblown sincerity. "She, well, she had on a business suit, but I don't think she was wearing a bra, or at least the blouse… you could sort of see through it."

"Did she ever try to seduce you, make any overture at all beyond how she was dressed?" I asked.

"No, ma'am, but it was like maybe she was hoping I would. And now I know why. She wouldn't go for it, but she'd hold it over me. Just one more way to control me. So when she got me my second beer, she got down to what she wanted. She said it was important I know the truth about you:' "Which is?"

"She said you're unstable. Everybody knew you'd lost your grip, those were her exact words, that you were almost bankrupt because you're a compulsive shopper..:' "Compulsive shopper?"