Another fierce roar pierced the miasma. Decker and Marge exchanged glances. She said, “That animal sounds pissed.”
“It’s very pissed,” Wilner said. “We’re going over our next step.”
“Which is?” Decker said.
“Drill some peepholes and see what we’re dealing with.”
“My bet’s on a Bengal female tiger,” Hathaway said.
“I agree,” Wilner said. “A male lion would be five times as loud. When the area is cleared out, we’ll put on some protective gear and drill some holes. Once we see what we’re working with, we figure out how to tranquilize it and get it out of here before we have a major problem.”
Another howl echoed through the dripping fog. It was engulfing, as if being swallowed alive. Decker spoke to Marge. “We should assign some agents to the apartment doorway, just in case our friend feels like busting loose.”
“One step ahead of you. It’s already done,” Wilner said. “I got one with a tranquilizing gun, one with a hunting gun. We aren’t taking any chances.” He turned to Agent Andrea Jullius. “What’s going on with the equipment from the zoo?”
“Twenty more minutes.”
Wilner tossed keys to Hathaway. “You wanna go get the protective gear?”
“Sure,” Hathaway said.
“Do you have a vest for me?” Decker said. “I want to take a look through the peepholes. Homicide was called because the apartment was rented to an old man.”
“Our policy is no civilians,” Wilner told him. “And what are the chances that the old man inside is still alive?”
Decker said, “This is my community, and I feel responsible for everything that goes on here. I want to see the layout of the apartment so I know what I’m dealing with.”
“It’s gonna be grisly.”
“I’ve done grisly before. Once I saw a dead guy being gnawed on by a wild mountain lion. It bothered me, but that’s okay. When things stop bothering me, I’ll know it’s time to quit.”
With his pillow vibrating underneath his head, Gabe awoke with a start. It was eleven in the evening and he’d been out for an hour, falling asleep with his glasses on, his book landing on the floor. He groped around and pulled out the cell. “Hello?”
“How was it?” Her voice was a whisper.
Instantly Gabe was up and alert. He and Yasmine weren’t supposed to be talking to each other, especially once the trial started, which was perfectly fine with Yasmine’s mother. Sohala Nourmand was the typical Persian Jewish mama who wanted her daughter to date solely within the tribe. Not only was Gabe the wrong ethnicity, he was also the wrong religion. So over the past year, Sohala had forbidden contact between them. He and Yasmine hadn’t exchanged phone calls, IMs, e-mails, texts, or Facebook posts. He knew that Sohala had checked Yasmine’s electronics on a regular basis.
But nothing was foolproof. They had kept in touch the old-fashioned way—snail mail. When Yasmine first wrote to him by hand, he couldn’t answer her back, a source of frustration. Finally, she got a POB. It was strange, writing real letters instead of e-mails, but after a while he really enjoyed the personality that came through her handwriting. His stamp output was one of his main expenses.
He hadn’t heard her voice in almost a year. It was simply thrilling. He sat up, curling his knees to his chest. “Where are you?”
“In bed with the covers pulled over my head. I borrowed my friend’s phone to call you. How was it today?”
“Really tiring.”
“What’d they ask you?”
“It was Nurit Luke—the state’s lawyer. She just led me through that day.”
“Was it horrible?”
“It was … it took up a lot of time, but at least she was on our side. Tomorrow I have the cross with Dylan’s lawyers. That’ll probably be horrible, especially because of my background.”
“I’m so sorry.” There was a catch in Yasmine’s voice. “Gabriel, I miss you so much.”
“I miss you too, cuckoo bird.” He felt his eyes water. “We’ll get through this. The good news is you don’t have to worry about Dylan. The guy is major league messed up physically. You don’t ever have to be afraid again.”
“I hope you’re right.” But her voice was cracked.
“When you see him, you’ll know I’m right. It breaks my heart to hear you so anxious.”
“I’m okay.” But she wasn’t.
“The lieutenant thinks that there’s even a chance for a plea bargain. If that’s the case, you won’t even have to testify.”
“That would be fantastic!” A long pause. “Too much to hope for.”
“One step at a time, Yasmine. It’s the only way to stay sane. How are you otherwise?”
“Most of the time, it’s like I’m on autopilot. Just kinda numb.”
“Are you talking to anyone?”
“You mean like a therapist? I already went down that road. It didn’t work. It’s better for me to just throw myself into school work.” A pause. “So afterward … like you’re going back to New York?”
“Probably. Why? What do you need?”
“Nothing.”
“What’s on your mind? Tell me.”
“I was just hoping that you could wait until I’m done testifying before you go back. But that’s just being selfish.”
“I don’t have to do anything specific. I’m caught up, and my next performance is six weeks from now. If you need me, I’m here. End of story.”
“What are you playing?”
“A Schubert four-hand piece with a guy I know from Germany and a sonata by a contemporary composer named Jettley who lectures part-time at Juilliard. I’m also doing Beethoven’s fourteenth sonata—Moonlight.”
“Oh … that’s not so bad. Even I can play that … not like you of course.”
Gabe smiled. “The first two movements are all emotion and finesse. The third movement’s a little trickier. You can hear it on YouTube. Glen Gould. If you want to see the fingering, look at Valentina Lisitsa.”
“Okay. I’ll do that right after we hang up.”
“If
