to tell Cynthia I'd be getting dressed and leaving to make a call.
"There's a cellular in my bag," she said.
My face must have registered surprise.
She shrugged. "Tool of the trade."
I spotted her black leather handbag — styled like a pouch, with a drawstring — on the seat cushion of a wicker armchair near the window. I picked it up and pulled it open. Something about poking around in it made me feel like a little boy, but I didn't see anything that reminded me of my mother's purse. I had to reach through rolling papers, Trojan and MAGNUM condoms, and a canister of mace to find the phone. I dialed Hancock.
"Frank?" she answered.
"Yup." I noticed Cynthia's driver's license face-up in her bag. I focused on it just long enough to read her full name, Cynthia J. Baxter. The license had been issued by the state of Maryland.
"Where are you?"
"The Y."
"What are you doing there?"
"I didn't feel like driving back to Chelsea. I took a room here and slept a little."
"The Y. Very swank. Why didn't you just bunk at the Lynn shelter? It's even cheaper."
"Didn't think of it. Next time."
"I keep hoping there won't be a next time." She paused. "I needed to give you an update. Lucas just issued another ultimatum."
"I'll say it again: We should land that helicopter right in the hospital parking lot. Drain the gas, if that makes Rice happy. At least Lucas could literally see a way out."
"Lucas didn't mention the helicopter this time. Or Cardinal Law."
"No? What does he want now? The Pope?"
"Not quite. You."
The room suddenly felt claustrophobic. My heart started to pound. I wondered if Lucas had told what he knew about the killings. What I knew.
"Still there?" Hancock said.
"Yeah."
"What do you figure he wants with you? I'm the one who arrested him."
She was also the one who had arranged to have the life nearly beaten out of him while he was being held at the Lynn jail. But what I had done to him was much worse. "Your guess is as good as mine," I said. I looked out the window.
"You sound nervous. Nobody's suggesting you hurl yourself into any volcano. I just thought you might come up with a way to use his demand to stall him."
I cleared my throat. "What exactly is he demanding?"
"He says he wants to meet with you. On the unit. He promised to set two of the hostages — the two social workers — free at the same time he takes you inside."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cynthia walk into the room, but my gaze stayed focused outside. "And if I don't go?"
"He says he'll kill them. Actually, he said ‘the Harpy will devour them.’"
My skin turned to gooseflesh. "He wrote all this in a note?"
"No. Laura Elmonte delivered the ultimatum by phone. She didn't sound anything like the smooth talker she was yesterday on the witness stand. She kept gasping for air, struggling to get her words out. Somebody was doing something to her. I don't want to think what."
"How long did he give me to decide?"
"Twelve hours. What he doesn't know is that Sir Rice here is planning to storm the unit it four P.M. "
"He can't do that. Lucas is too smart and too paranoid. They'll end up carrying everyone out in body bags."
"I'm not in favor of it, either. But Rice doesn't need my OK on state property."
I looked at my watch. 6:50. "So I really only have about eight hours to decide."
"Decide what?"
"Whether I'll meet with Lucas on the locked unit." I saw Cynthia turn around. I looked over at her. My mind was mostly frozen on a memory of the five-person beast Lucas called a Harpy, but I could see the fear in her face. She sat down on the edge of the bed, watching me.
"Let me save you time and trouble," Hancock said. "There is no chance, absolutely no chance , I would authorize you going into that unit. If you want to commit suicide, you're not going to do it on my time."
I remembered Lucas’ crazed eyes locked on mine as he
"There's a cellular in my bag," she said.
My face must have registered surprise.
She shrugged. "Tool of the trade."
I spotted her black leather handbag — styled like a pouch, with a drawstring — on the seat cushion of a wicker armchair near the window. I picked it up and pulled it open. Something about poking around in it made me feel like a little boy, but I didn't see anything that reminded me of my mother's purse. I had to reach through rolling papers, Trojan and MAGNUM condoms, and a canister of mace to find the phone. I dialed Hancock.
"Frank?" she answered.
"Yup." I noticed Cynthia's driver's license face-up in her bag. I focused on it just long enough to read her full name, Cynthia J. Baxter. The license had been issued by the state of Maryland.
"Where are you?"
"The Y."
"What are you doing there?"
"I didn't feel like driving back to Chelsea. I took a room here and slept a little."
"The Y. Very swank. Why didn't you just bunk at the Lynn shelter? It's even cheaper."
"Didn't think of it. Next time."
"I keep hoping there won't be a next time." She paused. "I needed to give you an update. Lucas just issued another ultimatum."
"I'll say it again: We should land that helicopter right in the hospital parking lot. Drain the gas, if that makes Rice happy. At least Lucas could literally see a way out."
"Lucas didn't mention the helicopter this time. Or Cardinal Law."
"No? What does he want now? The Pope?"
"Not quite. You."
The room suddenly felt claustrophobic. My heart started to pound. I wondered if Lucas had told what he knew about the killings. What I knew.
"Still there?" Hancock said.
"Yeah."
"What do you figure he wants with you? I'm the one who arrested him."
She was also the one who had arranged to have the life nearly beaten out of him while he was being held at the Lynn jail. But what I had done to him was much worse. "Your guess is as good as mine," I said. I looked out the window.
"You sound nervous. Nobody's suggesting you hurl yourself into any volcano. I just thought you might come up with a way to use his demand to stall him."
I cleared my throat. "What exactly is he demanding?"
"He says he wants to meet with you. On the unit. He promised to set two of the hostages — the two social workers — free at the same time he takes you inside."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cynthia walk into the room, but my gaze stayed focused outside. "And if I don't go?"
"He says he'll kill them. Actually, he said ‘the Harpy will devour them.’"
My skin turned to gooseflesh. "He wrote all this in a note?"
"No. Laura Elmonte delivered the ultimatum by phone. She didn't sound anything like the smooth talker she was yesterday on the witness stand. She kept gasping for air, struggling to get her words out. Somebody was doing something to her. I don't want to think what."
"How long did he give me to decide?"
"Twelve hours. What he doesn't know is that Sir Rice here is planning to storm the unit it four P.M. "
"He can't do that. Lucas is too smart and too paranoid. They'll end up carrying everyone out in body bags."
"I'm not in favor of it, either. But Rice doesn't need my OK on state property."
I looked at my watch. 6:50. "So I really only have about eight hours to decide."
"Decide what?"
"Whether I'll meet with Lucas on the locked unit." I saw Cynthia turn around. I looked over at her. My mind was mostly frozen on a memory of the five-person beast Lucas called a Harpy, but I could see the fear in her face. She sat down on the edge of the bed, watching me.
"Let me save you time and trouble," Hancock said. "There is no chance, absolutely no chance , I would authorize you going into that unit. If you want to commit suicide, you're not going to do it on my time."
I remembered Lucas’ crazed eyes locked on mine as he
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