"C'mon, lady. Watcha tink I'm gonna do, steal 'em? I ain't got all day. And if sumpin goes wrong wit da cylinder or da tumbluhs later, yer boss'll hafta pay outta his own pocket. Know what I'm saying'?"

She handed him a ring with two keys on it- probably the lobby key and the office door key-plus the two restroom keys that she kept in her drawer.

Ed smiled at her. "Tanks, sweets. Dis'll only take me a minute."

He checked out the lock on the door. It was a simple dead bolt with a k.n.o.b inside and a keyhole outside. He found the right key on the second try and turned it back and forth. It worked perfectly.

"Hear dat?" he said, putting his ear down to the face plate as the bolt slid in and out. "Yer cylinders is dry. I'll fix dat in a jiffy."

He took out the can of graphite spray he had bought this morning and squirted some into the keyhole. He tried the key again.

"Much better! Okay, I'm gonna check out yer rest rooms and da front. Be right back." better! Okay, I'm gonna check out yer rest rooms and da front. Be right back."

Without giving her a chance to protest, Ed closed the door and hurried down the hall. He took the stairs two at a time down to the lobby, walked quickly through the front doors, then sprinted down to the locksmith on Fourteenth Street. He threw the office and main entrance keys on the counter.

"One copy of each! Quick!" he said, puffing.

Jesus, I'm out of shape!

The man behind the counter gave him a sidelong look, but made up the copies and charged him four bucks plus tax. Ed had a five ready. He slapped it down, told him to keep the change, then sprinted back to the Kramer building.

He took the elevator up to allow him to catch his breath, then strolled back into Dr. Gates' office. The receptionist looked relieved to see him.

"Here y'are, sweetheart. Ev'ryting works fine. No problemo."

"Thank you," she said, her cool and distant manner returning.

Now came the fun part of his plan: the psych-out. If he left too fast she might start wondering about him. So Ed had decided to make her want want him to leave. him to leave.

"Say, y'doin' anyting tonight?"

"Yes."

"How about t'morra?"

"Sorry, but I'm involved."

"Yeah, well, hey, I'm involved, too, but dat don' mean we can't go out an have a lil fun, if know what I mean."

"I'm very very involved, now if you'll-" involved, now if you'll-"

He held up his hands.

"Hey, sorree!"

Just then the door marked "Consultation" opened and a middle-aged man stepped out.

"Hiya, doc," Ed said.

"That is not not Dr. Gates," the receptionist said. "Now, will you please leave?" Dr. Gates," the receptionist said. "Now, will you please leave?"

"Cert'nly. But how 'bout I drop by 'roun' five and we'll get a drink somewheres? Howzat soun'?"

She ignored him.

Shrugging dramatically, and with a great show of reluctance, Ed picked up his toolbox and left. He strolled to the elevator. The car that came for him was empty. When the doors closed and he was alone, he began to laugh. He leaned back and held his fists up to heaven.

"You did it, you clever b.a.s.t.a.r.d, you! You f.u.c.king-ay did did it!" it!"

His heart was pounding, he was bathed in sweat, but he'd never felt so alive in his life. And the best part about it all was that it had been fun! fun! Jesus! He'd almost be willing to do this sort of thing for a living! Jesus! He'd almost be willing to do this sort of thing for a living!

The car stopped on the second floor and he straightened up. An old lady with a walker came in, a.s.sisted by a younger woman. Ed tried to look serious, but he felt too good. He rode the rest of the way down grinning like an idiot and jingling the two brand new keys in his pocket.

But the grinning and jingling came to an abrupt, panicky halt when the elevator doors opened on the lobby and he saw Kara waiting outside. For an instant Ed couldn't breathe, couldn't move, then he noticed that she wasn't looking his way. Her eyes were down, her face pale, her expression blank. Her mind looked to be a million miles away.

Ed wasn't going to wait for her to look up. He hoisted the tool box onto his shoulder, blocking his face from Kara, then he pushed past the old lady, almost knocking her over, and hurried for the street, never looking back until he was a block away.

And all along the way, he thought of Kara. She looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. He had to find a way to help her, and he was convinced a clue to doing that lay in Dr. Gates' office.

Well, he'd find out for sure tonight.

He was actually looking forward to that.

10:07 A.M.

"I have spoken to the patient who sent you the note," Dr. Gates was saying, "and I can a.s.sure you, he will never bother you again."

Kara tried to ignore the lie about the "him" behind the letter, telling herself it was just Dr. Gates' way of protecting patient confidentiality.

She nodded without really listening. She had other things on her mind. Another erotic dream, for instance. She didn't remember much besides a cowboy hat... and Dr. Gates' presence.

She yawned behind her hand.

That was another thing. She was so tired tired lately. Maybe it was because of the dreams, maybe it was because she hadn't been able to workout all week. Or maybe the Halcion was staying in her system. lately. Maybe it was because of the dreams, maybe it was because she hadn't been able to workout all week. Or maybe the Halcion was staying in her system.

Still, she didn't dare stop it because it seemed to be doing the job. The apartment key had been right where she had hidden it. She'd even tied a strand of her hair around it last night, and the strand was still in place this morning. So, if nothing else, she could be sure she hadn't left the apartment last night.

Rob had stopped by first thing this morning. He looked exhausted. He said he had another stake out tonight so he wouldn't be able to stay over.

Just as well. Kara intended to hit the sack early tonight. Very Very early. early.

2:33 P.M.

Lieutenant Mooney had the Kelly Wade folder on his lap as he slumped in the swivel chair behind his desk. He was whining again.

"Why are you doing this, Harris?"

"I'm not doing doing anything, lieu. I'm just telling you that there's new evidence in the Kelly Wade case and it's got to stay open." anything, lieu. I'm just telling you that there's new evidence in the Kelly Wade case and it's got to stay open."

"That's a kook letter! It doesn't count!"

"It's addressed to Kara Wade and says, in effect, get out of town or wind up dead like your sister. Where I come from, that's a threat. And it may mean that Kelly Wade herself was threatened before she died."

Rob watched Mooney mull that, watched him try to find a way to make an end run around it, watched him give up.

"d.a.m.n it, Harris. Okay. So what are we doing with this 'threatening' note?"

"It's down in fingerprints now. We got a set from the victim's sister yesterday, and we found a set of Dr. Gates' from when he registered for a handgun in 1980. Both of those are all over the bill and the check. But they've picked up a third set. That's the one we're running down now."

"And when that comes up as blank as the set from the hotel room, what're you going to do?"

"I'm going to start shaking Dr. Gates' tree and see if any rotten apples fall out."

"Okay," Mooney sighed. "But make sure you do it all legal like. Make sure all your paperwork is done. I don't want no hara.s.sment calls from this shrink."

"Right, lieu. But I know you'll be behind me a hundred percent if he does call, right?"

Mooney tossed the file across the desk.

"Oh, yeah."

Rob glanced at his watch. If he hurried his afternoon paper shuffle he could be down by Gates' office in time to start following him again. The guy had to go someplace besides his office and his home.

11:35 P.M.

"Time to move," Ed thought, but he didn't move.

He had the jitters now. It was one thing to pull a fast one on a receptionist. It was something else entirely to enter a locked building with a stolen key and rifle through the confidential files of a state licensed physician. We weren't talking fun and games, here. We were talking breaking and entering.

Ed had already put himself through the man-or-mouse s.h.i.t and had run the line about A-man's-got-to-do-what-a-man's-got-to-do through his head at least a thousand times by now. It didn't help. But he was going to G.o.dd.a.m.n do it or never be able to look at himself in the mirror again.

Taking his coffee with him, he got up from his window seat at the all night Burger King on Twenty-third Street and headed for the door.

B and E time.

" He walked down Seventh Avenue. He was still dressed in his overalls, but beneath them he wore khaki slacks and a flannel shirt-in case he had to run and needed a quick change of appearance. He'd left his tool box at home. All the tools he needed were the keys in his right pocket and the flashlight in his left.

He slowed as he pa.s.sed Barney's, checking the window displays-he preferred Brooks Brothers-and stopped short of the Kramer building. What if someone spotted him going in, or questioned him? What would he do then?

First off, he wouldn't worry about it. And if he was stopped, he'd just say he was Dr. Gates and hope whoever it was didn't know the doctor by sight.

Ed glanced around. No one in sight. He hurried up to the lobby door with the key ready, hoping it was the right one, and thrust it into the lock. It fit. It turned. He pulled it open and scooted inside. He didn't bother with the elevator-that would mean standing where he was visible from the street-but went directly to the stairs. His mouth was dry as sand by the time he reached Dr. Gates' office door. He didn't allow himself to pause and think. He used the second key and opened the door. If anyone was inside he'd say he was part of the cleaning crew and would come back later.

Dark inside except for the glow from the fishtank and the blip on the computer screen. And quiet. He closed the office door behind him, turned the bolt.

Made it!

He felt weak. He had to take a pee. He wanted to turn around and get out of here. But that would have been stupid after coming this far and taking all these risks. No turning back now. He pulled out his flashlight and began his search.

The reception area he knew from this morning. He went into the consultation room. He dearly would have loved to turn on the lights but he was afraid lighted windows might draw attention from someone on the street. Maybe he was being overly cautious, but he was taking every precaution he could think of.

Nothing in the consultation room, at least nothing he was looking for. He wanted the files. There was a flush oak door behind the desk. He opened it and was faced with three more doors. The middle turned out to be a small private bathroom.

Thank G.o.d! he thought as he stepped in to relieve his aching bladder. Never should have had that third coffee Never should have had that third coffee.

The room behind the left hand door was lined with file cabinets. And it was windowless. He flipped on the light and pulled on the handle of the nearest drawer. It wouldn't budge. Same with all the others. Every cabinet was locked.

Ed spent a few moments cursing Dr. Gates with every four-, ten-, and twelve-letter word he knew. He'd never imagined he might run into locked files inside a locked office.

As he turned to make his way back to the consultation room, he noticed that the third door was standing ajar. He pushed it open and shone his flashbeam inside.

Another windowless room, only empty. But the walls... they were covered with fabric. Thick fabric. The floors and ceilings too. He stepped inside and checked the inner surface of the door. That was covered too. He touched it. Soft. Then he realized where he was.

In a padded cell.

February 21 12:05 A.M.

Kara hung up the phone. She was grateful that Rob cared enough to call and check on her, but was uncomfortable with the implication that she needed someone to watch over her. Or was she being too a.n.a.lytical?

She lay back in bed and waited for the Halcion to work.

No dreams tonight. Please, no dreams.

She wasn't up to any s.e.x tonight, real or imagined. Peace, that was all she wanted. And a reasonably normal life, one in which she would feel safe sleeping in the same house as her daughter.

Actually, she was spending more time than usual with Jill these past five days. And Jill, with the adaptability of a nine year old, had been quite content to go to parks and places like the Museum of Natural History when her mother was around, and watch the VCR when she wasn't. Today Kara had tried to watch a Disney movie with Jill. But it was Freaky Friday Freaky Friday, the one in which Jodie Foster switches bodies with her mother. It struck Kara as too much like that d.a.m.n crazy note. She'd had to leave the room.

And her book... her book was going nowhere while the deadline kept creeping up. She didn't want to blow this. She was counting on that second payment on the advance. But more than that, she believed in her book, knew it would be an important contribution to the women's movement. If only she could get back to work on it.

Tomorrow... she'd force herself to work on it tomorrow...

Right now she felt sleep creeping over her. She blanked her mind and welcomed it.

Rob sat in his car, smoking and sipping Dunkin' Donuts coffee as he watched Gates' townhouse. He was waiting for the lights to go out so he could call it a night.

Rob had been asking around about Gates. n.o.body knew too much about him. Seemed to be a real homebody. Took vacations from his practice but never left town. No social life that anyone knew of. His world seemed to consist of his home and his office, and occasionally a trip to the hospital. Gates could walk to all three: a few blocks downtown on Seventh Avenue and he was at his office. A few blocks further down and he was at St. Vincent's on Eleventh Street in the village. That was his world. Family dead, no friends, no close ties to the medical community. The guy lived in a vacuum.

Actually, he lived in a Victorian townhouse. Rob knew the type well: four floors and a bas.e.m.e.nt. Once upon a time, before the recent regentrification of Chelsea, he had lived in one of these townhouses, two blocks down on Nineteenth. He had been a rookie then and had been rooming with Tony Morano, a friend from the Academy. But they had shared one of seven apartments in a subdivided building just like Gates'. Two apartments per floor and one in the bas.e.m.e.nt.