Promise Me Eternity (20 page)

“What’s up?” he asked.

Steven greeted him cheerfully. “Ah, nothing
much. We’re investigating the Patrick Gowan and Paulo Gratti cases,
which are obviously connected. I get the feeling we’re going in
circles. We haven’t found out anything important.”

Sandra thoughtfully shook her head. “I
wouldn’t say we’re going in circles. I have a few clues that could
turn out to be important.”

Richard Ross gave her an encouraging wink. He
liked Sandra, who was one of his most capable agents. She was
extremely intelligent, honest, and stubborn, which was ideal for a
successful detective.

He asked her, “What clues?”

“All the information I’ve tracked leads to
different people.”

Richard knew Sandra very well. He knew she’d
talk for ages before getting to the point. He had a lot of work to
do in his office, so he interrupted. “Who’s your main suspect?”

She shook her head. “They’re only
assumptions, nothing is confirmed.”

“Come on, Sandra, who is it?”

“Carlo Vucci,” she said cautiously. “Certain
leads point to him.”

The name “Vucci” sent a shiver down Richard
Ross’s spine. He pulled himself together in a moment. “Carlo Vucci?
Are you crazy? He definitely has nothing to do with it!”

Steven was surprised to see his boss’s odd
reaction since he nearly always agreed with Sandra and in that way
encouraged her. While Richard would argue with Steven and question
his statements, their boss always praised Sandra.

“I checked which brand of cigarettes he
smokes and it matches the butts we found. Of course, nothing is
certain yet.”

Richard turned pale. “Listen, Sandra. Carlo
Vucci is an extremely important man who has donated a good bit of
money to charity. If you think I’m going to agree to a search of
his house, you’re wrong. The media would have a lot to say about
it—not to mention the mayor, who would probably strangle me
single-handed.”

“I was also surprised at first,” she said,
“but people say Carlo Vucci is connected to the Mafia. We have a
fair bit of information indicating he’s a dangerous character.”

Ross’s face went from white to red. “Like I
said, Carlo Vucci has no connection with our murder cases. I order
you to take him off the suspect list immediately. Have I made
myself clear?”

“I have other information which—”

Richard turned and made his way toward the
door. “Sandra, I don’t intend to repeat myself. It’s not a request,
it’s an order. Look elsewhere! I mean it. I don’t want to hear
another word about Vucci, full stop!” And he was gone.

“I can’t believe it. He didn’t even hear me
out.” She was beside herself.

Steven was also stunned by his reaction.
“Like I said, it’s bad to have anything to do with the Mafia. I’m
telling you, this case won’t be solved.”

“And I’m telling you I’m going to get to the
bottom of it, with or without his permission! I don’t care if this
Carlo Vucci is important or not. If he’s a criminal, I’m putting
him behind bars, whatever happens.”

Steven looked at her, biting his bottom lip.
It was clear to him that she meant it.

Richard Ross was standing at his office
window, watching the children playing in the yard. He couldn’t
actually see the children because his mind had wandered six months
back, when he’d come home, tired from work, and entered his
apartment. Being hungry, he’d gone straight into the kitchen to fix
himself a sandwich. He had a bad habit of not eating during the day
since he was so busy, and then in the evening as he was returning
home, he could hardly wait to fill his empty stomach.

When Richard opened the fridge, an unpleasant
surprise awaited him. At first he couldn’t believe his eyes. There
was a severed human hand. Thinking it was a rubber one that his
neighbor who cleaned for him might have put there, he picked it up
and with horror realized it was real. Obviously someone had come
into his house, placed a severed hand in his fridge, and left.

He dropped the hand and looked around the
kitchen, making sure the uninvited guest had left.
What if he’s
still in the apartment?
said a voice inside him.

Richard rushed into the living room and with
a fright saw two men with revolvers in their hands, calmly sitting
on the couch.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” he
asked.

One of the men got up and approached him.
“I’ll be short and to the point. I don’t think either of us has
much time, right?” He looked into Richard’s eyes
contemptuously.

“Of course not. Tell me.”

“One of your detectives was sticking his nose
in where he shouldn’t have.”

Richard felt dizzy from fright. His voice was
shaking and he started to feel nauseated. “You m-mean Bullock? He’s
been missing for three days. W-what … what’s happened to him?”

“You’ll find the body soon. I brought you the
souvenir that’s in the fridge.”

His pupils widened with shock. “W-what … what
have you done with him? Are you crazy?”

“Quiet! I told you I haven’t got much
time.”

Richard felt a few drops of urine escape.

“Maybe we could talk about this. What do you
think?” the man asked.

Richard could barely stand. He felt sick and
had the feeling he’d pass out at any moment. Never before had he
been in life-threatening danger. “Y-yes, yes, of course. We can
talk.”

The man studied him for a while with a sharp
look. “Do you know Carlo Vucci?”

“Of course I know him,” he nodded. “A very
respectable businessman.”

Both of the men laughed. “Glad you think that
way. Carlo is a respectable man.” The laughter continued for a
while.

When they stopped laughing, one of them said,
“Bullock was getting too nosy and had to pay the price. We had to
stop him.”

Richard took three deep breaths. He could
feel acid rising in his throat. It was instantly clear to him.
Bullock had been investigating the murder of a man who owned a
small restaurant. A week ago he had said that he was almost sure
Carlo Vucci was involved.

“Carlo doesn’t like people breathing down his
neck. You get what I’m trying to say?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Good. Then we’ve talked. I recommend you
destroy all the evidence that Bullock had on Carlo and stop the
investigation.”

“But I can’t—”

“Quiet! I’m talking!”

“Sorry.”

“Carlo thinks you’re an intelligent person.
He wants to reward you for your work. If you stop the investigation
against him, you’ll get a hundred thousand dollars in cash. What do
you say?”

“A hundred thousand dollars?” repeated
Richard Ross. Again he was breathless, but this time it was because
of the sum of money the men had mentioned. It only took him a
second to think of all the things he could buy with that kind of
money. “Sure, why not?”

The two men measured him with their eyes. If
there was any doubt at all about his willingness to cooperate,
they’d have to kill him.

Vucci thought Richard Ross was a bribable
person. He had found out a lot about him. Ross had got to the top
because of who he knew. Previously he had worked at a local police
station, dealing with personnel matters. Never in his life had he
been on the streets and he always managed to avoid danger. But he
did have impressive organizational and leadership skills. He was
good at working with people and motivating them to do well. Vucci
had found out another valuable thing. Ross was a compulsive
spender. At the end of the month his bank account was always in the
red. His apartment and car had been bought on credit, the rest of
his wages were blown on nonessentials. That was important
information and why Carlo decided to risk it. If he managed to
bribe Ross, he’d become untouchable. From that moment on, he could
do whatever he wanted.

“Stop the investigation against Vucci. We’ll
bring the money in a week’s time. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll settle everything.”
He desperately wanted the men to leave his apartment.

They stared at him a little longer, then got
up off the couch and made their way to the door.

“Wait up,” Richard said. “What about that
hand in the fridge?”

They didn’t even turn around. One of them
said, “Keep it as a souvenir.”

The moment the front door closed, Richard ran
to the bathroom. He vomited, shaking from terror. He was scared
like never before in his life.

After twenty minutes Richard returned to the
living room. There was an argument going on in his head. One voice
was telling him to call the station immediately and ask for backup.
The other said to keep his mouth shut and take the money. His teeth
were chattering and he was still shaking.

Then he made up his mind. With a sullen face
he slowly dialed a phone number.

A woman’s voice on the other end said,
“Roder’s Catalog Sales. How can I help you?”

He could hardly speak. “I’d like to order
suite number … hang on a minute.” He opened the catalog and looked
for the page he had marked. “Number four hundred and fifty-six. In
white.”

The woman thanked him.

The living room suite had caught his eye, but
was outside his price range. Now he could finally afford it.

Chapter 34

_______________________

He had been walking up and down beneath the
large trees that lined the narrow street on which Dr. Patterson
lived for more than two hours. He was wearing a grayish-blue
raincoat, a woolen hat, and dark glasses.

He kept playing with a small hunting knife.
For a while he rolled it in his right hand and then, when it got
sweaty, moved it to his left. Sometimes he released the catch so
that the blade jumped out and then he carefully pushed it back in.
All the time he was secretly watching Dr. Patterson’s house and
patiently waiting.

The wind was hurling itself at the treetops
and raindrops were sliding off the leaves. The man had to wipe his
face several times. Twice he took off his dark glasses and dried
them with a cotton cloth.

In the distance he could hear the clack of
high heels along the sidewalk. He casually turned his head,
checking who it was. It was her, Helen Patterson. He recognized her
immediately. She was walking with enviable elegance on the other
side of the road. She stared ahead, her back as straight as a
rod.

He quickly stepped behind the nearest tree,
not wanting her to spot him. Then he secretly watched her, turning
the hunting knife in his hand with twice the speed.

As if it could no longer wait, the wind
rushed violently into the treetops, causing hundreds of drops to
fall on him. But this time he didn’t wipe them off. Her walk had so
enchanted him that he didn’t even feel the wetness.

For a moment, he thought he saw her turn her
head and look his way. He held the knife tighter, accidentally
releasing the catch that made the blade spring out. He stood behind
the tree trunk, tense, with closed eyes, listening to her steps.
Then he plucked up the courage to peek out again. She had her back
to him and was only a few yards away from where she lived. She
would go in any moment now.

His eyes followed her until she closed the
door behind her. He was still twirling the knife in his hand,
totally forgetting the blade was out. He felt a sharp pain and
cursed quietly. He shut the knife with anger, stepped out from
under the tree, put his hand in his pocket, and made his way toward
the door she had entered.

Chapter 35

_______________________

Maria Melton had always had a good nose for
trouble. While her husband John lay in front of the television
watching a football game, she was in the kitchen making beef stew
with dumplings. Thinking of Simon Patterson, she went to the window
in the hope of maybe seeing him. Immediately she noticed a man in a
raincoat lifting his hand to ring the doorbell.
Ah, they’re
having visitors,
she thought.

But the man was unsure. Putting his hand back
into his pocket, he just stood there. He was there for some time,
turning a few times and again lifting his hand. But he still didn’t
ring the doorbell. Instead, he left.

Noticing that he was holding something in his
hand, Maria strained to see what it was, but couldn’t make it out.
Remembering her stew, she saw the man turn around yet again and
make his way toward the front door. She hurried to the stove to
stir the pan. She had forgotten the salt so she added a couple of
pinches.

When she got back to the window, the man had
gone. She was angry with herself that she didn’t know whether the
man had gone in or not.
Who on earth could it be?

Chapter 36

_______________________

Dr. Patterson stood with the hypodermic in
his hand, staring at the rabbit and crying. He felt bad enough to
want to take his own life. Everything had fallen apart. With this
act he would pay for the stupid things he had done.

He had almost made up his mind when the
basement door suddenly opened. Helen’s shrill voice rang through
the room: “Damn it, Simon!”

He nearly jabbed himself with the needle from
fright.

“Are you trying to burn
our
house down
now too? The kitchen is almost on fire, you forgot about the
risotto!”

It was like waking from a bad dream. He
remembered wanting to heat up some risotto because he was hungry,
but then he forgot. “Sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to—”

A loud slam of the door was her reply.

Shocked, he put the syringe with the vaccine
into the fridge. He decided it best to leave the laboratory
immediately. Even though Helen was obviously in a bad mood, he went
up to see her. The basement disgusted him.