The Steel Kiss

Oh, brother. This is just plain strange. Sachs sighed and followed the other two into the living room. She diverted to the kitchen, refrigerated the food and debated getting Nick some coffee. But decided it would take too long to brew and then cool to his taste. She wanted this to be a brief visit. She returned and found Rose in her lounger, Nick on an ottoman in front of the couch, as if sitting on a backless piece of furniture testified to the temporary nature of his stay. Sachs stood for a moment and then pulled a chair from the dining table, set it near her mother and sat down. Upright, leaning forward slightly. She wondered what her California friend Kathryn Dance, an investigator with skills in body language analysis, would have about her posture and the messages it was telegraphing.

“Amie told me about your brother, you taking responsibility for the crime. Your trying to prove your innocence.”

Rose was never one to withhold any stories she’d been told. Sachs had often thought it was a good thing that her mother was largely ignorant of social media. She would have been the hub of a million rumors zipping through the Internet.

“That’s right. I found some leads. I hope they’ll pan out. Maybe not, but then I’ll still keep trying. Rose, Amelia told me you’d been staying with her off and on. That’s why I took the chance of coming by today, not just to play delivery boy. I wanted to apologize to you. Both of you.”

The woman’s eyes drilled into his. To Nick’s credit, he didn’t look away. Sachs believed he was the picture of calm, somebody at last getting something heavy and painful off his chest.

“It was the hardest thing I ever did, cutting things off with Amelia…  and you. Not telling you the truth about Donnie. But I couldn’t risk word getting out that he’d been involved and I hadn’t. Amelia can give you the details, if you want them, but I know in my heart this guy Donnie got involved with, this guy who ran a crew—a gang—”

“I know what a crew is. My husband was a police officer all his life.”

“Sure. Sorry. Well, this guy? He would’ve killed Donnie if I hadn’t taken the fall. There was virtually no evidence against me. I was afraid if I told anybody what really happened, Internal Affairs or a prosecutor’d put two and two together and get the idea I was faking it. They wouldn’t have to look very far to find Donnie. He was… ” Nick’s voice caught. He cleared his throat. “He was just a kid, who couldn’t take care of himself. Oblivious, you know. He stumbled into the whole mess and got caught up with some bad people.” Nick’s eyes seemed damp.

“He was a good boy,” Rose said slowly. “I didn’t realize he had problems.”

“He wanted to get straight, but…  addiction’s tough. I should’ve done more. I got him into a few programs but I didn’t follow up the way I should have.”

Rose Sachs was never one to pat hands. There, there, you did the best you could. She simply nodded, her lips tight. Saying, in effect: Yes, Nick, you should have. Then you wouldn’t’ve gone to prison. And Donnie might still be alive. And you wouldn’t have broken my daughter’s heart.

“Rose, you might not want to have anything to do with me.” A wan smile, a glance at Amelia. “I imagine neither of you do. And I completely understand. I just wanted to tell you I had to make a decision and I chose my brother over Amelia and you and dozens of other people. I almost didn’t. I almost threw him to the wolves but I went the other way. I’m sorry.” He rose and extended his hand.

Slowly Rose took it and said, “Thank you, Nick. Apologies are very difficult for some people. Now, I’m feeling a little tired.”

“Sure. I’ll be going.”

Sachs walked him to the door.

“I know you didn’t expect this. Just something I had to do. Like Donnie? In the Twelve Steps? He had to make the rounds and say he was sorry.” A shrug. “Or he would have if he’d gotten that far.”

He gave her a spontaneous embrace. Brief. But she felt his hand trembling as it pressed against her neck—her upper spine, she reflected, exactly where Lincoln Rhyme’s vertebrae had been snapped. She stepped back. And for a moment debated asking him to tell her what he’d found—this mysterious lead. But she didn’t.

Not your issue, she reminded herself.

She closed the door behind him. Then returned to the living room.

“That was odd,” Rose said. “Speaking of the devil.”

The daughter wondered about the mother’s choice of word. Sachs re-nuked her coffee, sipped and threw out the cardboard cup.

“I don’t know.” The older woman shook her head.

“I believe him, Mom. He’s not going to lie to me.”

“Oh, I think I believe him too. I think he’s innocent. That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nick’s decided he made a mistake back then. You should have come first.”

“He’s making amends, sure. Why is that a problem?”

“Why did he contact you for help?”