Mommy's coming, Kimi. Mommy's coming, Kimi. Mommy's coming, Kimi. Mommy's coming, Kimi.

And then, a voice. "Are you ready to tell us the truth?"

The lights snapped on, and the barking stopped abruptly. Rachael looked around the room. No dogs. Just the two men in black.

The taller one-the leader-peeled away the duct tape and removed the ball gag from her mouth.

"Are you ready to tell us the truth?" he asked again.

Her wrists and ankles were bleeding, and her neck was rubbed raw from the chains. "I did tell you the truth," she whimpered.

"No, you didn't," he said, opening a bottle of Poland Spring water. He tilted the bottle to his lips and gulped down half of it.

Rachael stared at the water.

"You look thirsty," he said. "The rest of this is yours. Just tell me who killed Kimi."

"I swear I didn't kill Kimi. I loved her. I would never hurt my only child."

"Oh yes. You were Mother of the Year," he said. "Here's first prize."

He held up the water bottle and turned it upside down.

Rachael sobbed as the water splashed onto the concrete floor. "The jury believed that I didn't do it. Why can't you?"

"Juries are stupid," he said. "And in a hurry to get home. We're neither."

The shorter one-the nicer one-pointed to a video camera on a tripod in front of her. "Just talk to the camera. Tell us what really happened, and we'll give you a hot meal, lots of cool, cool water, and then you can sleep."

"You mean then you can kill me," Rachael said.

"True," the leader said. "Death is inevitable. But pain and suffering are optional. Here-let me demonstrate."

He had a wooden box in his hand. It reminded Rachael of a music box her mother had when she was a little girl.

He opened it, and she almost expected it to play "Irish Lullaby." But there was no music. There was just a strange metal contraption inside. She'd never seen anything like it, but she knew it was evil.

"It's called a choke pear," he said. "Some call it the pear of anguish. This one is from the sixteenth century. I bought it on eBay for twelve hundred bucks."

Rachael squeezed her eyes shut.

"Open them," he said slowly, "or I will open them for you."

She opened her eyes. The box was on the floor, and now he had the pear-shaped thing in his hands.

"Now open your mouth."

She shook her head.

He nodded to his partner.

The nice one pinched her nostrils and forced her mouth open, and the other slid the metal pear inside.

"Now here's the beauty of this little pear," he said. "The stem is really a corkscrew, and when I twist the spiral rod in the center-"

He gave the corkscrew two quick turns, and Rachael gagged and screamed at the same time.

"Relax," he said. "This is only a demo. It won't hurt. Not this time."

He twisted the corkscrew in the opposite direction and slid the pear from her mouth. Rachael gasped at the air.

The man in black smiled. "All I did was turn it twice," he said. "Like this."

He turned the corkscrew twice, and Rachael watched as the pear opened at the bottom and four spoonlike segments began to spread out.

"Now watch what happens when I turn it again. And again. And again."

The iron lobes spread out even farther, leaving no doubt as to what damage the device could inflict.

"How many was that?" he asked. "Five turns? You should see it at ten. Or fifteen. It's diabolical, but you know those crazy punishing medieval judges-they couldn't wait to use it."

"I didn't kill my daughter," Rachael said. "I swear."

"Hold that thought. I'm not quite finished."

He held the pear up to her face. "Here's the genius of this little beauty. It's a multi-orifice device. So if you were a blasphemous heretic, it would go inside your lying mouth. Male h.o.m.os.e.xuals were punished with the a.n.a.l pear. And women who fornicated with Satan...well, like I said-it works in any orifice."

A cell phone rang, and the man patted his pocket.

"Something for you to ponder while I take this call."

Chapter 58.

"Hang on," Gideon said into the phone as he walked behind the false wall they'd built to hide the audio equipment.

He had done his research well. He knew that Rachael would be petrified at the mere sound of dogs. And that was all it took to bring her to the point of hysteria-a cut from a sound effects library.

He stepped outside the rear door and put the phone to his ear. "Mom, what's up? I'm a little busy."

"I thought your shift would be over. That's why I waited till now."

"My shift is over. I'm busy with life." He still had the choke pear in his other hand, and he fondled it.

"Fine. I'll make this short. You'll never believe who came to the house today."

"Mom, can this wait? I'm really busy here."

"Teresa Salvi."

"That's great, Mom. I gotta- What? Who?"

"Mrs. Salvi. She told me to call her Teresa."

"What the f.u.c.k was she doing there?"

"Gideon. Language."

"Mom, Mom, I'm sorry. I wasn't focused. Just tell me again. Teresa Salvi came to the house? Joe Salvi's wife?"

"Now I have your attention. Yes, she did. She made a special trip just to thank me for returning her son's book."

There was a plastic milk crate behind the garage, and Gideon slowly lowered himself to it. "What book?" he asked. But, of course, he knew the answer before he even asked the question.

"Her son Enzo's journal. I found it wedged behind a desk drawer when I was cleaning up your room."

"That's...that's impossible."

"Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

His brain was racing. His mother couldn't have the book because he had it. He could swear he had it.

That rainy night in 2001, he had read through every page. He remembered thinking, If the people in this book knew I was the one who put Enzo Salvi out of the protection business, they would throw me one h.e.l.l of a party.

But he couldn't tell anyone. And he couldn't bring himself to burn it either. He was sixteen, and Enzo Salvi's leather book with the gold froufrous on it was a trophy. Over the years, he'd thought about destroying it, but he couldn't. It was a symbol of what he could accomplish when he was only a kid. Imagine how powerful he could become.

Sure, it was dangerous to keep, but Gideon never ran away from danger. He never told Dave he still had it. Dave would s.h.i.t. But over the years, he'd had no regrets-he was happy he'd kept it. If he'd ever had any guilt about killing Enzo, the details in that journal were a living list of the sc.u.mbag's crimes.

A few years ago, when he'd moved out of his mother's house, he'd packed up everything he'd wanted to keep. He could swear he'd taken the journal. He'd been drinking that night, but still-he was sure he'd buried it at the bottom of one of those cartons that were stored in the closet of his new apartment. It had to be there. It had to.

"Gideon-are you listening?" his mother said. "I asked you a question."

"What, Mom? I didn't hear you."

"I said I hope I didn't do the wrong thing. The book had Enzo's name on it, so I gave it to Father Spinelli, who gave it to Mrs. Salvi. The poor woman's son was killed when he was only eighteen."

"No, Mom, you didn't do the wrong thing."

"I know those Salvis are mixed up in all kinds of shady nonsense. But not the mother. She's always going to Ma.s.s. She throws those big parties for the neighborhood. I thought the least I could do was let her have a little touchstone of her dead son. G.o.d only knows how his book wound up with your things."

"You did fine, Mom," Gideon said. "Thanks for telling me. I've got to go now."

"I know, I know, you're so busy with life, but maybe one night you can squeeze in a dinner with me and Sherman."

"I promise," Gideon said. "Love you, Mom."

He set down the phone and buried his face in one hand.

He didn't have to check the cartons in his closet. Somehow he'd screwed up. He had left Enzo's book at his mother's house, and she'd given it to the Salvis.

He stood up. And now the Salvis are going to come after me and Dave.

The back door opened, and Dave stepped out.

"Hey, Gid, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Gideon said. "Just the usual stupid Mom phone call. You know-'Who are you dating? Don't work too hard.' Nothing important."

"You did great in there with the choke pear. And the dogs-that was a good call. She's cracking."

"I think you're right," Gideon said. "She's on the edge."

"Let's give her another twenty-four hours in there," Dave said, "and come back maana. At that point she should be ready to spill her murdering guts out."

"Good idea," Gideon said.

No sense telling Dave about the Salvis tonight. He'd freak. First we break Rachael, then I can deal with the Mafia.

Chapter 59.

Despite the fact that we have the most sophisticated crime-solving technology at our fingertips, Kylie and I spent the rest of our day hoofing it through the bureaucratic roadblocks created by the New York County District Attorney's Office and the City of New York Department of Correction.

At 5:00 p.m., we reported in to Cates.

"Four people at the DOC knew where Rachael O'Keefe was headed when she left lockup," I said. "And at least eight from the DA's office."

"At least eight?" Cates said. "You can't get a hard number?"

"We tried," Kylie said, "but we're dealing with the justice prevention department."

"We interviewed and cleared everyone at the DOC and managed to track down six of the DA's people," I said.

"Then you have two left."