Long Lost - By Harlan Coben Page 0,34

Who came in second place? It would be like, to maintain the Golden Girls analogy, remaking a Marilyn Monroe film with Bea Arthur. And yet Nelson and Estevez worked and the movie worked and I love it and I can say every line.

After a while Nigel Manderson said, "Maybe I remember a little."

He wasn't very convincing. He finished his drink and ordered another. He watched the bartender pour and scooped it up the second it touched the sticky wood in front of him.

I looked at Win. Win's face was as usual unreadable.

The woman with the paintball makeup-hard to say an age, could have been an easy fifty or a hard twenty-five, and I was counting on the latter-said to Win, "I live near here."

Win gave her the superior gaze that made people hate him. "In that alley perhaps?"

"No," she said with a big hearty laugh. Win was such a card. "I have a basement flat."

"Must be divine," Win said in a voice richly marinated in sarcasm.

"Oh, it's nothing special," Paintball said, not picking up on Win's tone. "But it's got a bed."

She pulled up on her pink 'n' purple leg warmers and winked at Win. "A bed," she repeated. In case he wasn't getting the drift.

"Sounds enchanting."

"Want to see it?"

"Madam"-Win faced her full-"I would rather have my semen removed via a catheter."

Another wink. "That a fancy way of saying yes?"

I said to Manderson, "Can you tell me about the accident?"

"Who the hell are you anyway?"

"A friend of the driver's."

"That's a load of bull."

"Why do you say that?"

He took another deep sip. Bananarama ended. Duran Duran's classic ballad "Save a Prayer" came on. A hush fell over the bar. Someone turned down the lights as the clientele lifted lighters and started swaying as if they were at a concert.

Nigel held up his lighter too. "I'm just supposed to take your word for it-that she sent you?"

He had a point.

"And even if you were, so what? That accident was... how long ago did you say?"

I had said it twice. He had heard it twice. "Ten years ago."

"What would she need to know now?"

I started to ask a follow-up question but he hushed me. The lights went lower. Everyone sang that we should not say a prayer right now, but for some reason we should save it till the morning after. The morning after what? They all rocked back and forth from drink and song with their lighters still raised, and I feared with all the big hair this had to be a major fire hazard. Most patrons, including Nigel Manderson, had tears in their eyes.

This was getting us nowhere. I decided to prod a bit. "The accident didn't happen the way your report says."

He barely glanced at me. "So now you're saying I made a mistake?"

"No, I'm saying you lied and covered up the truth."

That made him stop. He lowered the lighter. So did others. He looked around, nodding at friends, looking for support. That wasn't my concern. I kept my eyes on him. Win was already checking out the competition. He was armed, I knew. He didn't show me the weapon and I know that they are supposed to be hard to come by in the UK. But Win had at least one firearm on him.

I didn't think we'd need it.

"Piss off," he said.

"If you lied about something, I'm going to find out what."

"Ten years later? Good luck. Besides, I didn't have anything to do with the report. It had all pretty much been taken care of when I got there."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I wasn't called first, pally."

"Who was?"

He shook his head. "You said Mrs. Collins sent you?"

Suddenly he remembers the name and that she was married. "Yes."

"Well, she'd know. Or maybe ask her friend who called it in."

I let that sink in. Then: "What was her friend's name?"

"Damned if I know. Look, you want to go tilting at windmills? I just signed the report. I don't give a crap anymore. I got my pitiful pension. Nothing they can do to me. Yeah, I remember it, okay? I got to the scene. Her friend, rich girl, I don't remember her name. She called it in to someone at the top. One of my superiors was already there, a pissant maggot named Reginald Stubbs, but don't bother calling him, cancer ate him up three years ago, thank Christ. They carted off the little girl's body. They rushed the mom to the hospital. That was all I know."

"Did you see the girl?"