“Oh, some dude came home to find his girlfriend murdered.”
“Yikes,” I said.
“Yikes is right,” Clegg said. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“I’m assuming you do.”
“I’m close with the dispatcher, so I got the skinny. Looks like the guy who did it cut off the girl’s fingers.”
“Shit.”
“He put two fingers on her lips, one in each ear, then two covering her eyes.”
“What the hell?”
“Get it?” Clegg asked.
“No,” I said.
“See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil.”
“Holy shit,” I said.
“Holy shit is right.”
“Where did this happen?”
“Right down the road,” Clegg said, nodding in the direction where I now lived.
“No. What address? I mean.”
It couldn’t be, I was thinking. It couldn’t be.
“Why?” Clegg asked.
“I want to know which way to avoid when I’m heading home.”
“No worries. I’ll drive you.”
“No, I’ve got to meet Ruby.”
“Four-fifty-seven Harvard Avenue,” Clegg said.
I felt the ground give way and had to steady myself using the door handle of Clegg’s car. I found my balance, but the ground below me turned unsteady like the sea. Four-fifty-seven Harvard Avenue was the building where we had rented an apartment as Elliot and Tanya Uretsky. I knew at that moment exactly what Uretsky had meant when he said he was going to kill someone close to us. He didn’t mean close by relationship. He meant close by proximity.
He knew who we were. He knew where we lived. My cell phone rang. I took it out and looked at the caller ID. The number came up as unknown. It rang again.
I answered it.
CHAPTER 15
“Hello?” I said into my phone. My strangled voice came out shaky, more like a whimper than a word. I moved away from Clegg, turning my back so he couldn’t see me, couldn’t overhear me, either.
“Hello, John,” Uretsky said. His distinct rasp, the resonance of his baritone voice, that unsettling calm were as familiar to me as a Beatles song. “Yes, I know your real name, and no, you can’t know how. I want you to listen very carefully.”
“What have you done?” I said, speaking in a low voice. I took a few more steps away from Clegg. “What the hell have you done?” That came out harsh, a low, growling whisper. My heart was thrumming wildly.
“Listen means don’t talk, dumb ass,” Uretsky snapped. “Are you listening?”
“Yes,” I said, breathing out the word in one long hiss.
“Your wife is wearing an olive-green sweater and blue jeans,” Uretsky said, speaking quickly now. “She’s with a girl named Elisa, and I know that they’re at the Deco Bar on Beacon Street. I also know that Ruby has been drinking club soda and lime all night, because alcohol and Verbilifide don’t mix very well. I know that Elisa is a pretty, dark-haired girl who won’t stay pretty for long if you don’t do exactly as I say. Do you understand?”
Clegg surprised me with a tap on my shoulder. I recoiled from his touch, as though his hands were an electric cattle prod. I must have looked like a wild man to him, my eyes flickering, mouth agape, and sweat beading up on my brow.
“Johnny, you all right?” Clegg asked. “You look white as my ass.”
The phone was still pressed to my ear as Uretsky spoke. “Tell that cop friend of yours that it’s Ruby. Tell him she’s not feeling well.”
He knew I was with Clegg?
My head darted about in all directions. I glanced into the glimmering windows of the apartments across the street, into storefronts, crowded restaurants, and bars, which existed aplenty in this section of town. He could see me! Good God in heaven, Uretsky was watching me! I kept looking around, noticing the multitudes of people milling about on this warm spring evening, many with cell phones mounted to their ear.
“Say it, John,” Uretsky urged. “Tell him that Ruby isn’t feeling very well and you need to go.”
“Yo, bro? Are you all right?” Clegg asked.
“Ruby,” I managed.
A flash of concern washed across Clegg’s face, genuine, as though Ruby were family. “What’s going on?” Clegg asked in a voice steeped with worry. “Is everything all right?”
“Tell him she’s fine, but you have to leave,” Uretsky instructed again.
I repeated those exact words, as though in a trance.
“I’ll drive you,” Clegg said.
“He’s got a prisoner to deal with,” Uretsky said into my ear.
How does he know that? Where is he?
“You’ve got your hands full,” I said to Clegg, nodding my head in the direction of his police car. I couldn’t see into the car’s dark interior, but I assumed the man Clegg