LITMIR.BIZ

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entrance in five minutes.’

      Shortly thereafter, still in the rain, that bad March weather, they stood on the edge of the pier with umbrellas and looked down into the water covered with scum and flotsam.

      ‘She was there by the steps,’ Parker told him. ‘The night watchman saw her. I happened to be walking along.’

      ‘And you pulled her in.’

      ‘I couldn’t leave her.’

      Blake nodded. ‘Let’s go and see Romano.’ He turned and walked away.

      At the morgue, Romano was in the chief medical examiner’s office, drinking minestrone soup from a plastic cup and eating French bread. Parker made the introductions.

      Romano said, ‘I’m really sorry.’

      ‘Just tell me what you told Harry.’

      Romano did.

      ‘So she was murdered?’

      ‘In my opinion, and for what it’s worth, yes.’

      ‘But why?’ Parker demanded. ‘And what would a nice middle-class lady with an apartment in the Village be doing in Brooklyn under these circumstances?’ They sat silent for a moment. ‘You never had any children, did you, Blake?’

      ‘No.’ Blake shrugged. ‘It wasn’t possible. She was sterile, so she concentrated on her career, and I concentrated on mine. We just kind of drifted apart. But though we got divorced, we never lost touch. We were always concerned friends.’ He turned to Romano. ‘I’d like to see the body.’

      ‘No, you wouldn’t.’

      ‘Yes, I damn well would.’ At that moment Blake looked every inch the Vietnam veteran.

      Parker put a hand on Romano’s shoulder. ‘George, I’d say we should indulge the man.’

      ‘Okay, let me phone down.’

      She lay on one of the tables under the hard white light. There were enormous stitched scars where Romano had opened her up, the same scar around the skull.

      Blake felt incredibly detached. This creature had been the love of his life, his wife, his support in many bad times, and now…

      He said, ‘I was never all that religious, but human beings are pretty remarkable. Einstein, Fleming, Shakespeare, Dickens. Is this what it ends up as? Where’s Kate? This isn’t her.’

      ‘I can’t give you an answer,’ Romano told him. ‘The essence, the life force – it just goes. That’s all I can say.’

      Blake nodded slowly. ‘I’ll tell you one thing. She deserved better, and someone should pay for this.’ His smile was the most terrible thing Parker had ever seen when he said, ‘And I’m going to see that they do.’

      Back at Parker’s office, there was a message for him to phone Helen Abruzzi.

      ‘What’s new?’ Parker asked.

      ‘Well, we checked out Katherine Johnson’s house, and it’s been burgled.’

      ‘Damn,’ Parker said. ‘Okay, we’ll be right there.’ He turned to Blake and explained. Blake said, ‘Let’s take a look.’ Helen Abruzzi was already there ahead of them when they arrived.

      ‘There’s no sign of forced entry, but the study upstairs has been ransacked. It’s hard to tell what’s been taken.’

      She led the way, opened the study door, and entered. The scene of devastation was evident, videotapes scattered all over the place.

      Parker said, ‘Anything in the machinery?’

      ‘Not a thing. No disks, no tapes, no copies, nothing in the computer.’

      ‘That smells, for starters.’

      Blake said, ‘Somebody was after something, Harry, that’s obvious, and probably found it. The thing is, what and why?’ He turned to Abruzzi. ‘Have the crime scene people finished here?’ She nodded. ‘Then could you get your people to look at these tapes littering the floor, Sergeant? You never know. You might turn up something.’

      ‘I’ll see to it, sir.’

      Blake started down the stairs, and Parker said, ‘Now where?’

      ‘Truth magazine. I want to see Kate’s editor, find out what she was working on. You don’t have to come. You’ve got other cases on your hands, Harry. I can handle this on my own.’

      ‘Like hell you will,’ Harry Parker told him. ‘Let’s get going.’

      The editor of Truth magazine, Rupert O’Dowd, was the kind of middle-aged journalist who’d seen it all, been there, and done that, and he had little residual faith in human nature. Nevertheless, sitting in his office in shirtsleeves, he reacted with horror to the suggestion that Katherine Johnson had been murdered.

      ‘Please, tell me, what can I do to help?’

      ‘You can tell us what she’d been involved in lately,’ Johnson said. ‘Was she working on anything special, anything dangerous?’

      O’Dowd hesitated. ‘Well, there’s a question of journalistic ethics here.’

      ‘And there’s the question of my wife being murdered by the administration of a massive heroin dose, Mr O’Dowd. So don’t play around or I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.’

      O’Dowd put up a hand. ‘Okay, okay, you don’t have to come down hard.’ He took a deep breath. ‘She was working on a big Mafia exposé.’

      There was silence. Parker said, ‘Isn’t that old stuff?’

      ‘Only because the Mafia wants you to think that. Let me explain. The ruling power in the Mafia, the Commission, right? It called a halt to mob killings in New York in 1992 because of the bad publicity.’

      ‘So?’

      ‘So they started again last year. Five stiffed in Palermo a month ago, three in New York, four in London. But it’s all different, all back-room stuff you can’t connect to them. They’ve gone legit. They don’t figure in Forbes magazine, but they’re easily the biggest company structure in Europe. The drug market in America is saturated, so they’ve moved to Eastern Europe and Russia, but now they do it behind an elaborate façade.’

      ‘So what are you saying?’ Blake asked.

      ‘That the days of men in gold chains have gone. Now they wear good suits and sit next to you in the Four Seasons or the Piano Bar at the Dorchester in London. They are into construction, property development, leisure, TV. You name it, they do it.’

      There was a pause. Blake said, ‘So where did my wife fit in to all this?’

      ‘As I indicated, these days the new image is everything. The most influential Mafia group right now is the Solazzo family. Don Marco is the old devil who runs things, but he has an extraordinary nephew named Jack Fox. Fox’s mother was Don Marco’s niece, so the good Jack is half and half, though he sounds very Anglo-Saxon. He was a young Marine in the Gulf, a decorated war hero, Harvard Law School, and now he’s the respectable face of the Solazzos.’

      ‘And how does this affect Katherine?’

      ‘She managed to get into a relationship with Fox. She was intending to produce a devastating series, not only for Truth magazine but also for our TV side.’ There was silence, then O’Dowd said, ‘She wanted to get behind that acceptable face of the Mafia and expose it.’

      ‘Which meant showing the reality behind Fox,’ Parker said.

      ‘And he couldn’t have that.’ Blake nodded. ‘So now we know.’ He stood up and said to O’Dowd, ‘Play this down. Trust me. Give us time and you’ll get the story Kate wanted.’ He held out his hand. ‘A bargain?’

      ‘It

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