[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.The Marilyn web site connection was now our best hope for moving forward.Only then did I remember that Miriam Williams had flown to Europe yesterday.The tech support guy turned out to be Indian-American, but from his Westernized demeanor I knew he’d never practiced any form of yoga.Raj said he had done some work on the case already at Police Plaza.He had discovered that the horrific images of Jane had been sent from a computer in the Midtown Manhattan Library on Fifth Avenue at Fortieth Street, which had been open until 11 p.m.that night.He inspected Miriam’s’ laptop, which we had kept in Bernie’s office.“What exactly is the deal with using the library computers?” Bernie asked.“They allow you to use them for fifteen-minutes at a time, but you have to sign in first.”“It’s probably the closest library for O’Flaherty,” I pointed out.“Let’s take a walk,” Bernie said, rising slowly onto his tricky foot and grabbing his coat.“Are you sure you’re up for this?” I asked.He had been wincing all day.But as if it were possessed, his bum foot seemed to lead him right out the door.Halfway into our little walk, Bernie started gasping for air.When he seemed to get dizzy, I feared he was having a heart attack.On the northeast corner of Thirty-ninth and Seventh Avenue, he parked himself on a short metal platform that held a steel sculpture of an old Jewish man sitting at a sewing machine.“Let’s go back to the precinct,” I suggested.Bernie looked up at the garment district statue he was sitting under and said: “There was a lot more jerking off around here than sewing.If they’re going to put up a memorial, it should be to all the lonely guys who whacked off in the porn arcades around Times Square.”He pulled his inhaler from his coat and took a deep suck from it, then rose to his feet and resumed walking, throwing his foot out before him like an anvil.When we got to the library, we found a dozen old PCs side by side.We carefully inspected the sign-in sheet, looking for the names of people who had used the computer at 7:45 p.m., roughly the time the jpegs had been sent in to Miriam.It proved to be useless: most of the names were illegible, and of course there were no closed-circuit cameras.Before Bernie could even begin to describe O’Flaherty, the librarian was shaking her head.Apparently she never saw anybody, ever.“We know O’Flaherty uses the library,” I said to Bernie.“Why don’t we check his withdrawal records to establish if he was here that day, and see if there’s a match with the times the jpegs were uploaded.”Bernie barely nodded.He never gave anyone any credit.After an hour of going through various bureaucratic channels, we discovered that O’Flaherty’s most recent withdrawals were all made at the Donnell branch up on Fifty-third and Fifth.I was going to suggest walking up there and checking their sign-in sheet to see if he might’ve logged in for any cyber-hijinks up there as well, but I didn’t have the heart to put Bernie through another lengthy walk.Not long after I got home that evening, I heard Maggie’s delicate Morse code knocks at my door.We hadn’t seen each other since the celebrity party at Miriam’s house.As soon as I opened the door, Maggie handed me a frosty bottle of Grey Goose vodka – I didn’t know why, nor did I care.I took out two tall thin-stemmed aperitif glasses and poured us each a shot.“I know you have a big crush on Noel Holden,” I said.“I wish I could just wrap him up and give him to you.” I was trying to give Maggie the opportunity to mention her fling with Crispin.“Don’t you want him?” Maggie asked instead.“Maggie, he spends most of his time out in LA, and he has a million adoring fans.Even if he did sleep with me, it would only be a matter of time before he’d toss me aside for the next coat-check girl.”“If you really feel that way, why are you seeing him?” she asked.“I’m not.It’s over.” I didn’t want to explain the whole fingerprints thing.“So you wouldn’t be angry if he.if I.”“If you what?”“Well, if one day a miracle should occur and I got together with him.”I stood there a moment wondering if she was insane.“Go for it, girl,” I finally said.I shouldn’t’ve been surprised by her reluctance to talk about Crispin.After all, this was where her crazy flag flapped out of control.We clinked glasses and knocked back our vodka.After another drink, Maggie dashed back to her apartment—probably to watch the same dumbass TV shows as I did on the opposite side of the same wall—all alone [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]