Twice by Lisa Miscione

Author:Lisa Miscione [Miscione, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780312314057
Amazon: 0312314051
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Published: 2004-04-13T00:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

WCOU Bar on Second Avenue was slow on Monday nights.

That, and the fact that the old bartender mixed a dangerous Manhattan and looked like as much a relic as the antique jukebox and the glowing neon art deco clock on the wall, was the reason Ford chose to stop there with Irma. The room was smoky and narrow, dim, with high tables and stools against the walls. It had atmosphere in that kind of nonchalant way that made it real. If the lights came up, you’d see cigarette butts on the floor, nicks in the wall, that the ceiling was mottled with water stains. But in the glow of low-wattage bulbs beneath glass shades, you felt like you were in a black and white movie and any second Humphrey Bogart was going to saunter through the door and bum a smoke.

So far, the forensics team had turned up nothing at the laundry room. He and Irma had stopped up after the interview with the twins to check in with the forensics scientist heading up the team. The Luminol had detected no blood traces.

Because so many people had access to the laundry room, no one was optimistic that any of the prints, hairs, or fibers 216

collected at the scene would have any relevance to the case.

And no one was happy about how much work it was going to take to determine that.

Ford ordered their drinks from the bartender and then carried them back to the table Irma had chosen at the far back corner of the bar. Shedding his coat, he folded his arms and looked at her.

“So what are your thoughts on the twins?”

Irma sighed lightly and took a sip of her Cosmopolitan.

“The children are deeply veiled,” she said, keeping her voice low and her face close to Ford’s. “Someone is exerting a lot of power over them. They’re both very intelligent, especially Lola, so they have an instinct that something is wrong. But they feel powerless. And, of course, they are, in the context of their situation.”

“So who’s exerting this power?”

“Someone who frightens them, someone who in Nathaniel’s mind has taken on the proportions of a monster, his bogeyman.”

Irma took another sip of her cocktail, while Ford drank his Perrier with lime. Technically, he was still on duty, so the Manhattan was going to have to wait for another night.

Ford’s mind jumped from Irma’s comments, to the news Jeffrey had just given him about Julian’s twin, to the picture he’d seen in the gallery, and then to the description of the man Jetty Murphy claimed he saw the night Tad was killed.

Was James Ross the bogeyman Nathaniel claimed to have seen? Was he also guilty of the murder of Tad Jenson?

The fact that Julian had a twin brother was another crucial piece of information he hadn’t had when investigating Tad’s murder. The thought made him sick with frustration and anger—anger at himself for not digging deep enough. The knowledge threatened a cornerstone in his self-narrative. In his own mind, the excuse he gave himself for being a shit y father and husband was that he was a good cop.

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