Neptune Avenue by Gabriel Cohen

Author:Gabriel Cohen [Cohen, Gabriel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781480467170
Google: TeiZAgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0312380615
Barnesnoble: 0312380615
Goodreads: 20579137
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Published: 2009-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“LET ME GET THIS straight,” Linda Vargas said to the manager of Daniel Lelo’s fish company. “A while back you had an accident where one of these big metal hooks went into the back of your hand. And now you’re saying that the same thing happened again, another accident in the exact same spot, and this time the hook just happened to dig around in there a bit?” The homicide task force detective stood next to the man’s hospital bed, arms crossed, frowning, and Jack was glad that he was not the subject of her interrogation.

Andrei Goguniv lay back, hooked up to I.V.s, and he nodded miserably. The man’s bald head gleamed under the fluorescent lights like a sickly white cue ball.

Jack sat in a plastic chair on the other side of the bed. He was keeping silent for the moment.

“That’s incredible!” Vargas said dryly. “What are the odds?” She looked up at Jack, as if sharing amazement at the coincidence.

“Not only that,” his colleague continued, “but this ‘accident’ just happened to take place in your office. Do a lot of fish processing up there, do you?”

The manager squirmed.

“As if all that wasn’t enough,” Vargas continued, “this happened after the market was closed for the morning. Interesting time for a work-related injury.”

The fish market security man had reported that the manager of one of the Seaport’s clothing boutiques was opening her store when she heard muffled screams coming through a wall that adjoined the market offices. By the time she alerted mall security and they discovered the source of the noise, Goguniv was sitting slumped over the desk in his office, soaked in blood, passed out, alone.

Jack stared at the manager. He thought of his own hospital stay, after he had gotten shot. He knew how belittling it felt to be lying there in an open-backed hospital gown, at the mercy of the doctors. His heart opened to the man, even though the poor bastard was still refusing to cooperate.

Vargas took out her notebook and slapped it impatiently against her palm. “Well? Are you planning on sharing how this miracle might have occurred?”

Goguniv looked as if he was about to pass out all over again. Weakly, he flapped his uninjured hand in protest. “Please. I don’t feel so good. I need to sleep.”

Vargas’s cell phone trilled. She answered, then stepped out into the hall to talk.

As soon as she left, Jack sat down, pulling his chair closer to the manager’s bed. He spoke softly and earnestly.

“Andrei, listen: I’m here to help you. Really. You’re not gonna get in any more trouble by talking to me. The way things have been going, this can only get worse for you—unless you help me put a stop to it. All you have to do is tell me who did this to you.”

Goguniv remained silent.

“Was it Semyon Balakutis? Just nod your head if it was.”

The manager turned his face toward the wall.

Jack groaned and sank back into his chair. The task force detectives

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