earlier?”
I shook her off like a pitcher changing the sign.
“I’ve been thinking about it more,” Ruby continued. “David might be involved.”
“He’s not.”
“How do you know?”
I shrugged. “It just doesn’t make sense,” I said.
My body still felt all charged up from the robbery and getaway, so I took in a few deep breaths and expelled them slowly. Then I ran my hands back and forth through my short hair, feeling the sweat that still dampened my scalp.
My sudden movement irritated Ginger. She meowed softly and dropped to the floor, silent. Ruby got up, scratched Ginger’s head, and went over to the laptop on the kitchen island.
“How will you give Giovanni his money back?” she asked.
“I’m just going to hand it to him,” I said. “I’ll say that some neighbor people heard about the robbery and collected some funds to help out.”
“You don’t think he’ll recognize your voice?”
I hadn’t thought about it. “Good point. Maybe you should give him the money,” I said.
Ruby had her face in the laptop when she agreed. Then she said, “Boston.com has breaking news about the robbery.”
“It’ll be on the morning news for sure,” I said.
Ruby gasped. “John, they have video posted.”
“Video?” I said, getting up off the futon to see for myself.
The video, grainy and recorded from a fixed position—probably a camera mounted above the front door—showed me barging into the liquor store and training a gun on Giovanni. Ruby and I watched the baseball bat attack, the slip and fall, Giovanni choking on tobacco and gum, and my attempts to dislodge the object while the old woman struck me with her handbag. The headline read: BREAKING NEWS: SOMERVILLE GUNMAN SAVES LIQUOR STORE OWNER FROM CHOKING, THEN STEALS HIS MONEY.
Ruby watched the video several times. “How did they get this up there so fast?”
“The police must have given them permission.”
“Would they do that?”
“I don’t know, Ruby,” I said. “You watch all the same TV shows that I do. The cops can do what they want. I’m not worried. I never showed my face, and I didn’t leave any fingerprints behind.”
My phone buzzed in my pants pocket. I took it out, holding it at arm’s length, as though it were a bomb. I knew who was calling.
“Uretsky?” Ruby asked.
I glanced down at the display and nodded. “Unless you know somebody else who can call us from 888-888-8888,” I said.
I pressed the answer button on my phone, silencing the vibrations of the ring.
“Hello?” I said.
“Well done, John. Congratulations. Very well done.”
Uretsky.
I felt a stir of sickness just hearing his voice.
“This is over,” I said. “I did what you wanted. It’s over. Let Dr. Adams go.”
“In part,” Uretsky said. “I e-mailed you a link. Open it.”
Ruby stepped away from the computer to give me access. I opened my One World administrator Web page and sure enough saw an e-mail from Elliot Uretsky, with a time stamp of eight minutes ago. I clicked the link and was directed to a Web page that displayed a presumably live video feed of Dr. Adams still seated on a wooden chair. She seemed to be unconscious, but I could see her chest rise and fall with breath.
A figure emerged from the shadows and stood behind Dr. Adams. This same figure came around to the front of Dr. Adams’s chair/prison and bent down to get face level with the camera. Ruby grabbed my arm when the face of a man wearing the same ski mask I wore during the robbery filled the screen.
“Hello, John,” Uretsky said. He spoke in the same deep, monotone voice I had grown to despise. “Nice to chat with you in person. How do I look? Do you like my disguise? They were on sale, a two-for-one deal.”
Ruby had said that I looked scary, but this time I witnessed for myself the horror of my appearance.
“We’re like twinsies,” Uretsky said. He stuck his tongue out of the mouth hole of the ski mask and flicked it in and out rapidly, the way a lizard feels the air.
“We’re nothing alike,” I said.
“Don’t be so quick to judge,” Uretsky said. “Now, let’s get down to business. You’ve done well. I kept up with your endeavors on my police band radio.”
Ruby looked at me, and I could tell what she was thinking: David Clegg.
“What about Dr. Adams?” I said.
“I knocked her out,” Uretsky said. “Slipped a little narcotic into her water. After our chat, I’m going to give her a lift to a secluded spot I like. They’ll be no trace of me,