trade Christmas cards or come over for Thanksgiving. We’re not that kind of friends. But still friends, right?”
“Sure. Of course.”
“Then as a friend, I have to ask: Are you going to be able to deal with this case? All the way? This is bad stuff. Real bad. You know me, and you know I’ve seen a lot. But that thing with her daughter . . .” She shudders, an involuntary spasm. “I’m gonna have nightmares about it. On top of that, what was done to your friend wasn’t pretty either. Oh yeah, and she was your friend. I can understand what you’re saying about it being healthy for you to test the waters again, but do you really think this is the case to do it with?”
I am honest in my reply. “I don’t know. That’s the truth. I’m messed up, Jenny, make no mistake about that. I guess it doesn’t make a lot of visible sense for me to get involved, but . . .” I think for a minute. “It’s like this. Do you know what I’ve been doing since Matt and Alexa died? Nothing. I don’t mean nothing as in taking it easy. I mean nothing. As in sitting in a single place all day long, staring at a blank wall. I go to sleep and have nightmares, wake up, and stare at things till I go back to sleep. Oh, or sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror for hours and trace over these scars with my fingers.” Tears prick my eyes. I’m gratified to find that they are tears of anger and not weakness. “All I can tell you is that that—living like that—is even more terrible than what I’ll see being involved with Annie’s death. I think. I know that sounds selfish, but it’s the truth.” I run out of words like a clock that needs to be wound. Jenny sips from her tea. The city continues to churn around us, unaware.
“Makes sense to me. So, you want my impressions of the scene?”
This is all she says. She is not brushing me off. She is acknowledging me in her way. Telling me she understands, so let’s get down to business. I am grateful. S H A D O W M A N
73
“Please.”
“I got the call yesterday.”
I interrupt. “As in you, personally?”
“Yep. Asked for me by name. Voice was disguised, and told me to check my e-mail. I might have ignored it, but he mentioned you.”
“Disguised how?”
“It was muffled. Like he’d put a cloth over the mouthpiece of his phone.”
“Any notable inflections? Unusual use of slang? Hint of an accent of any kind?”
Jenny looks at me, a bemused smile on her face. “You going to work me like a witness, Smoky?”
“You are a witness. For me, at least. You’re the only person who actually talked to him, and you saw the scene fresh. So, yeah.”
“Fair enough.” I see her thinking about my question for a moment.
“I’d have to say no. In fact, I would say just the opposite. There was an absence of inflection. His voice was very flat.”
“Can you remember what he said, exactly?” I know the answer to this question is yes. Jennifer has an unusual memory. It’s as scary in its own way as my skill with a handgun, and is feared by defense attorneys.
“Yeah. He said: ‘Is this Detective Chang?’ I said it was. ‘You’ve got mail,’ he said, but then he didn’t laugh. That was one of things that got my attention, first. He didn’t push the melodrama of it. Just said it as a flat fact. I asked who this was, and he said, ‘Someone’s dead. Smoky Barrett knows them. You’ve got mail.’ And then he hung up.”
“Nothing else?”
“That was it.”
“Hm. Do we know where the call originated?”
“From a pay phone in LA.”
My ears perk up at this. “Los Angeles?” I think about it. “Maybe that’s why he needed three days. So either he’s a traveler, or he’s actually from LA.”
“Or he’s just messing with us. If he is from LA, then my guess would be that he came up here for Annie.” Her face looks strained and uncomfortable as she says this. I know why.
“Which would mean I was the person whose attention he wanted to get.” I have
“Sure. Of course.”
“Then as a friend, I have to ask: Are you going to be able to deal with this case? All the way? This is bad stuff. Real bad. You know me, and you know I’ve seen a lot. But that thing with her daughter . . .” She shudders, an involuntary spasm. “I’m gonna have nightmares about it. On top of that, what was done to your friend wasn’t pretty either. Oh yeah, and she was your friend. I can understand what you’re saying about it being healthy for you to test the waters again, but do you really think this is the case to do it with?”
I am honest in my reply. “I don’t know. That’s the truth. I’m messed up, Jenny, make no mistake about that. I guess it doesn’t make a lot of visible sense for me to get involved, but . . .” I think for a minute. “It’s like this. Do you know what I’ve been doing since Matt and Alexa died? Nothing. I don’t mean nothing as in taking it easy. I mean nothing. As in sitting in a single place all day long, staring at a blank wall. I go to sleep and have nightmares, wake up, and stare at things till I go back to sleep. Oh, or sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror for hours and trace over these scars with my fingers.” Tears prick my eyes. I’m gratified to find that they are tears of anger and not weakness. “All I can tell you is that that—living like that—is even more terrible than what I’ll see being involved with Annie’s death. I think. I know that sounds selfish, but it’s the truth.” I run out of words like a clock that needs to be wound. Jenny sips from her tea. The city continues to churn around us, unaware.
“Makes sense to me. So, you want my impressions of the scene?”
This is all she says. She is not brushing me off. She is acknowledging me in her way. Telling me she understands, so let’s get down to business. I am grateful. S H A D O W M A N
73
“Please.”
“I got the call yesterday.”
I interrupt. “As in you, personally?”
“Yep. Asked for me by name. Voice was disguised, and told me to check my e-mail. I might have ignored it, but he mentioned you.”
“Disguised how?”
“It was muffled. Like he’d put a cloth over the mouthpiece of his phone.”
“Any notable inflections? Unusual use of slang? Hint of an accent of any kind?”
Jenny looks at me, a bemused smile on her face. “You going to work me like a witness, Smoky?”
“You are a witness. For me, at least. You’re the only person who actually talked to him, and you saw the scene fresh. So, yeah.”
“Fair enough.” I see her thinking about my question for a moment.
“I’d have to say no. In fact, I would say just the opposite. There was an absence of inflection. His voice was very flat.”
“Can you remember what he said, exactly?” I know the answer to this question is yes. Jennifer has an unusual memory. It’s as scary in its own way as my skill with a handgun, and is feared by defense attorneys.
“Yeah. He said: ‘Is this Detective Chang?’ I said it was. ‘You’ve got mail,’ he said, but then he didn’t laugh. That was one of things that got my attention, first. He didn’t push the melodrama of it. Just said it as a flat fact. I asked who this was, and he said, ‘Someone’s dead. Smoky Barrett knows them. You’ve got mail.’ And then he hung up.”
“Nothing else?”
“That was it.”
“Hm. Do we know where the call originated?”
“From a pay phone in LA.”
My ears perk up at this. “Los Angeles?” I think about it. “Maybe that’s why he needed three days. So either he’s a traveler, or he’s actually from LA.”
“Or he’s just messing with us. If he is from LA, then my guess would be that he came up here for Annie.” Her face looks strained and uncomfortable as she says this. I know why.
“Which would mean I was the person whose attention he wanted to get.” I have
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