Hazard pried a caramel from the roll, popped it in his mouth.
?They can?t find his body,? Ethan said, for suddenly he sensed that Hazard already knew all this.
Carefully folding the loose end of the wrapper over the exposed candy, Hazard said nothing.
?They swear he was dead,? Ethan continued, ?but considering how things work at the hospital morgue, he couldn?t have gotten out of there any way but on his own two feet.?
Hazard returned the roll to his coat pocket. He sucked on the caramel, moving it around his mouth.
?I?m sure he?s alive,? Ethan said.
Finally Hazard looked at him again. ?All this happened before we had lunch.?
?Yeah. Listen, man, I didn?t mention it because I didn?t see how Dunny could be connected to Reynerd. I still don?t see how. Do you??
?You were one self-possessed dude at lunch, considering all this was churning through your head.?
[240] ?I thought I was going crazy, but I didn?t see how you?d be more likely to help me if I virtually told you I was losing my mind.?
?So what happened after lunch??
Ethan recounted his visit to Dunny?s apartment, leaving nothing out except the strange elusive shape in the steam-clouded mirror.
?Why?d he keep a photo of Hannah on his desk?? Hazard asked.
?He?d never gotten over her. Still hasn?t. I guess that?s why he ripped it out of the frame today and took it with him.?
?So he drives out of the garage in his Mercedes-?
?I assumed it was him. I couldn?t get a look at the driver.?
?And then what??
?I had to think about it. Then I visited Hannah?s grave.?
?Why??
?Gut feeling. Thought I might find something there.?
?And what did you find??
?Roses.? He told Hazard about the two dozen Broadways and his subsequent visit to Forever Roses. ?The florist described Dunny as good as I could?ve. That?s when I was sure he was alive.?
?What?d he mean when he told her that you thought he was dead-and you were right??
?I don?t know.?
Hazard crunched the half-finished caramel.
?You can break a tooth that way,? Ethan warned.
?Like that?s my biggest problem.?
?Just friendly advice.?
?Whistler wakes up in a morgue, realizes he?s been mistaken for dead, so then he puts his clothes on, goes home without saying boo to anyone, takes a shower. That make sense to you??
?No. But I thought he might be brain-damaged.?
?He drives to a florist, buys some roses, visits a grave, hires a hit man For a guy who comes out of a coma with brain damage, he seems to get around pretty well.?
?I?ve given up the brain-damage theory.?
[241] ?Good for you. So what happened after you left the florist??
Operating on the two-ghost theory of credibility, Ethan didn?t tell him about the PT Cruiser, but said, ?I went to a bar.?
?You?re not a guy who looks for answers in a glass of gin.?
?This was Scotch. Didn?t find any answers there either. Might try vodka next.?
?So that?s everything? You?ve come clean with me now??
With all the conviction that he could muster, Ethan said, ?What-this whole mess isn?t X-Files enough already? You want there should be some aliens in it, vampires, werewolves??
?What?re you-dodging the question??
?I?m not dodging anything,? Ethan said, regretting that he was going to be forced to lie boldly rather than by indirection. ?Yeah, that was everything, through the flower shop. I was drinking Scotch when I got your call.?
?Truth??
?Yeah. I was drinking Scotch, I got your call.?
?Remember, you?re in a church here.?
?The whole world?s a church if you?re a believer.?
?Are you a believer??
?I used to be.?
?Not since Hannah died, huh??
Ethan shrugged. ?Maybe I am, maybe I?m not. It?s a day-to-day thing.?
After giving him a look that could have peeled an onion layer by layer to the pearl at the core, Hazard said, ?Okay. I believe you.?
Feeling low enough to slide under a snake, Ethan said, ?Thanks.?
Hazard turned in the pew to survey the nave, to be sure that a lost soul had not entered in need of a God fix. ?You?ve come clean, so I?ll tell you something, but you?ve got to forget you heard it.?
?Already I don?t even remember being here.?
?Not much of interest in Reynerd?s apartment. Spare furnishings, everything black-and-white.?
[242] ?He seemed to live like a monk, but a monk with style.?
?And drugs. He had a big stash of coke packaged for resale and a notebook of names and numbers that?s probably a customer list.?
?Famous names??
?Not really. Some actors. Nobody big. The thing you need to know about is the screenplay he was writing.?
?In this town,? Ethan said, ?guys writing screenplays outnumber those cheating on their wives.?
?He had twenty-six pages in a pile beside his computer.?
?That?s not even enough for a first act.?
?You know about screenplays, huh? You writing one??
?No. I?ve still got some self-respect.?
Hazard said, ?Reynerd was writing about this young actor goes to a special acting class, makes what he calls ?a deep intellectual connection? with his professor. They both hate this character named Cameron Mansfield, who happens to be the biggest movie star in the world, so they decide to kill him.?
Under a weight of weariness, Ethan had slouched in the corner of the pew. Now he sat up straight. ?What?s their motivation??
?That?s not clear. Reynerd has lots of handwritten notes in the margin, trying to figure that out. Anyway, sort of to prove to each other that they?ve got the guts to do this, each agrees to give the other guy the name of someone to kill before they do the movie star together. The actor wants the professor to kill his mother.?
?Why?s this sound so Hitchcock?? Ethan wondered.
?It?s sort of like his old film, Strangers on a Train. The idea is by swapping killings, each guy can have a perfect alibi for the murder he might otherwise be convicted of.?
?Let me guess. Reynerd?s mother was actually murdered.?
?Four months ago,? Hazard confirmed. ?On a night when her son had an alibi more airtight than a space-shuttle window.?
The church seemed to turn at a lazy six or eight revolutions per minute, as if the Scotch might be having a delayed effect on Ethan, [243] but he knew this vertigo was caused less by the Scotch than by these latest weird revelations. ?What kind of idiot does these things, then writes them up in a screenplay??
?An arrogant idiot actor. Don?t tell me you think he?s unique.?
?And who did the professor want Reynerd to kill??
?A colleague at the university. But Reynerd hadn?t written that part yet. He?d just completed the scene featuring the murder of his mother. In real life, her name was Mina, and she was shot once in the right foot and then beaten to death with a marble-and-bronze lamp. In the script, her name?s Rena, and she?s stabbed repeatedly, beheaded, dismembered, and incinerated in a furnace.?
Ethan winced. ?Sounds like his mom?s days were numbered whether or not Reynerd ever met the professor.?
They were silent. The well-insulated church roof lay so far overhead that the storm?s voice was barely audible, less like the drumming of rain than like the whispery wings of some hovering flock.
?So,? Hazard eventually said, ?even with Reynerd dead, maybe Chan the Man had better be looking over his shoulder. The professor-or whatever he might be in real life-is still out there somewhere.?
?Who?s working Mina Reynerd?s murder?? Ethan wondered. ?Anyone I know??
?Sam Kesselman.?
Sam had been a detective with Robbery/Homicide when Ethan still carried a badge.
?What?s he make of the screenplay??
Hazard shrugged. ?He hasn?t heard about it yet. They probably won?t drop a Xerox on him till tomorrow.?
?He?s a good man. He?ll be all over it.?