An Absence of Light

“Will do.”

Graver immediately called Arnette and told her that investigators were pulling lobby tapes and hotel registrations for the last twenty-four hours. If her people think they got caught on camera she might want to do something about it.

Then he called Westrate.

“Where the hell have you been?” Westrate bellowed.

“I’ve just talked with Olmstead,” Graver said, ignoring the question. “They’ve got it nailed down out there as well as can be expected.”

“What does that mean?”

“They’ve done just about all they can do until the fire’s out and they can get in there and study it.”

“Do they think it was terrorists? Some kind of drug thing?”

“They don’t have any idea.” Graver told him about the DEA operation on the other side of the marina.

“This could have been theirs,” Westrate said. “The sons of bitches wouldn’t have let us in on that, though, would they. We’ll have to spend good time and money to duplicate what they know and then they’ll say,*Oh, we could have let you have that information.’”

Graver didn’t want to listen to this kind of thing, Westrate’s favorite pastime.

“I’ve got to go, Jack.”

“Look, keep me posted. But, shit, it’s late. Just wait and get back with me in the morning… unless something spectacular happens.”

“Okay, Jack.”

Graver hung up and slumped back in his chair. He was limp with exhaustion. The day had begun around seven o’clock when he went to Arnette’s even before going to the office and viewed the surveillance photographs Boyd had taken of Burtell meeting with the Unknown at the Transco Fountain the night before… just a little over twenty-four hours from right now. Then around two o’clock in the afternoon he was back at Arnette’s reading the Yosef Raviv dossier after Arnette had picked up Kalatis’s name on the fountain interview recording. By four o’clock he was back at the office and Paula had turned up Colin Faeber’s name on the board of Gulf-stream Bank and an hour later Neuman returned to the office with the news that Faeber’s DataPrint was owned by Concordia International Investments, a subsidiary of Strasser Industries. Around eight-thirty in the evening Graver and Neuman had picked up Valerie Heath and around twelve-thirty Burtell was blown to bits in South Shore Harbor. And now the latest developments of the last few hours.

This had been one of the fastest-breaking investigations he had ever experienced, especially one of such complexity, all of which was complicated by the fact that he was trying to keep it off the books. He needed very badly to sit down and bring his journal up to date, but the thought of doing that now seemed an impossibility to him.

What he really wanted was a glass of wine, a rich, fruity Merlot that would almost be a meal in itself, but he knew if he did that his energy level would plummet right to the bottom.

The telephone rang. Startled, he snatched it off the receiver almost before it stopped ringing.

“This is Graver.”

“It’s Victor. Listen to me.” His voice hushed and quick. “I’ve only a moment We’ve got to meet in the morning, late morning. You’re not going to believe what I’ve got for you, my friend.”

“Give me a clue, Victor,” Graver said.

“I’m going to deliver Faeber’s ass.”

In the euphoria about Neuman’s discovery and then the immediate strain of confronting Ginette Burtell, Graver had forgotten about Colin Faeber, the only living direct link to Kalatis. Now here was Victor Last offering to “deliver Faeber’s ass.”

“What do you mean by that, Victor? Are you speaking physically or judicially?”

“Both, for Christ’s sake! What does it matter?”

“When do you want to meet?”

“Ten o’clock. I can’t get there before then.”

“Get where?”

“Oh, that Italian place of yours. Good coffee.”

The line went dead.

Shit! Graver buried his face in his hands, his elbows on the top of his desk. He seriously needed time to think. It was moving too fast, all of it, and he didn’t like the feeling of… hurtling.

“Graver.”

He turned around and saw Lara standing in the door.

“She’s sleeping. Why don’t you take time for a glass of wine?”

Chapter 60

They sat side by side on the sofa, their heads resting on the cushioned back, their shoes off, their feet propped on the ottoman with its tapestry picture of a Tuscan hillside.

“I needed this,” he said. “I appreciate your thinking of it.”

“To tell you the truth,” she said, “I probably did this as much for me as for you. I’m drained. This has been hard, the whole ordeal, but these last few hours with Ginny have been… so painful. It’s… You just naturally put yourself in her place. I feel so terrible for her, but there’s nothing, really, that I can do.” Lara sipped from her glass. “This is really torment for her.”

“You were good with her,” Graver said. “I’m grateful to you for how you’ve handled it She needed the attention, the consolation.”

“Well, anyway, how are you holding up?” she asked.

“I’m doing okay,” he said evasively. “Much better right this minute than… in a long time.”