She said, “Your body reacts to things that appear to be real, whether real or not. For example, if I were to punch Nurse Carol in the stomach, totally unprovoked, she’d double over in pain. If tomorrow I started to punch her in the stomach, but stopped my fist just short of the target, she’d probably still double over to protect herself from the perceived blow.”
“So it’s not the actual violence, but my perception of it that counts.”
“As long as you’re in charge of the killing, and you know the killing has nothing to do with someone’s idea of entertainment, you’ll be fine.”
I’d said, “Nadine, what happens to you when I leave here?”
“I’ll go home and learn how to have some fun in my life. I plan to dote on my nephews and make friends in my neighborhood.”
“You’ve earned enough to retire?”
“Yes, with the money I’ve saved and the fortune Darwin has paid me to nursemaid you, I’m set for life.”
“So you and I are done?”
“For you I’ll come out of retirement any time.”
“You’ll talk to me as a friend? Help me through the hard times?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Once you leave, if you want to talk to me, you’ll have to reach into your pocket.”
“Your words sound harsh,” I said, “but I see a smile on your face.”
“Well, don’t tell anyone,” Nadine said.
That was a week ago. Now, with Callie beside me, mourning Quinn’s death in her own, quiet way, I thought of the effect Quinn had on the other people in my life. Kathleen and Addie had taken to Augustus, had accepted him with open arms. He’d protected Addie day and night at the burn center when Joe DeMeo’s goons wanted to kill her. He’d said nice things about me to Kathleen the first time I thought I’d lost her. By her own account, it was the comments Quinn made that helped her see me in a different light.
I continued putting miles between us and the body of our good friend.
“So what happens now?” Callie said.
“Now we rescue Alison.”
Chapter 53
Quinn’s torture chamber was the basement of an abandoned building in an isolated part of the city. He actually owned the building, so there was no danger of losing the sweat equity he’d put into renovating it. I’d been inside before, and remembered he’d put drains in the floor, reinforced the walls, and soundproofed them with the same material used in upscale movie theaters.
As I pulled into the parking area, a random thought crossed my mind, something I remembered from a previous visit: in addition to being an excellent saxophone player, Quinn had been an accomplished chef. He used to blister the skin of his torture victims with the same small handheld butane torch he used to caramelize the surface sugar on his crème brulees.
There were no parking lot lights, so I left the car headlights on to get a good look at the exterior of the building. I removed a bag of tools from the trunk and slung them over my shoulder. Callie got out and we stood next to the car and looked at the gray, rundown building. To be precise, the overall color was gray, but there were faded and peeled areas that revealed former colors. I’d say the bricks had been painted at least three times over the decades. Two feet from the top of the building, a series of rusted pipes ran horizontally across the back and disappeared around the side.
“I don’t see any wires,” Callie said. “You think he’s got an alarm?”
“No way.” Last thing in the world he’d want would be to lead people to his workplace.”
“His workplace,” she said.
Standing there quietly for a moment felt right, somehow. Callie finally spoke. “I felt a bit sick tonight, setting the charge.”
“Augustus always lived on the edge,” I said, “but this time he crossed the line.”
Callie studied the building some more. “It would have been tough saving Alison if he were alive.”
“He’d be a tough adversary.”
Callie said, “You really think she’ll be sane enough to work for Sensory after this?”
I said, “Are any of us sane? Hell, this experience might make her a better agent.”
Callie nodded. “You ready?”
I put my hand in my pocket and felt the silver dollar, felt the satisfying heft of it, like I’d done ten thousand times before.
“Let’s get her out of here,” I said. “Assuming she’s alive.”
“Let’s get her out either way,” Callie said.
Chapter 54
If you broke in through the front door like we did, you’d find yourself standing in a small entry office, with reinforced glass walls that offered a view of the huge room beyond. We clicked on our pen lights, opened the door and walked into the dank old warehouse, where I was immediately struck by the immaculately clean concrete floor. I wondered how many times a month Quinn had to scrub it to keep it completely free from dust and dirt and blood.
We moved slowly and steadily through the open space until we came to the little concrete room where I believed Alison was being held captive. I called out her name, but heard no response.
“Help me find an electrical outlet,” I said.
“The power’s not on,” she said, and I doubt you want to flip the main circuit breaker and light the whole place up.”
