The Night Bird

34

“Don’t say a word,” Frost whispered in Dr. Stein’s ear.

He peeled his hand away from her mouth and turned her around so she could see him. Despite his warning, she opened her mouth to talk, and he put a finger to her lips. He glanced at the house, then grabbed her elbow and dragged her down the stone steps. He walked her all the way back to the street.

“How did you find me?” she asked, confronting him with her hands on her hips.

“You followed him. I followed you. I picked you up when you ran the red light near Dogpatch. What the hell do you think you’re doing, Dr. Stein?”

“You heard the song. The Night Bird is inside that house.”

“Darren Newman?” Frost said. He saw her flinch with surprise. “Yes, I know about Newman. I talked to your husband. If you suspected someone, you should have called me, not gone after him yourself.”

“Don’t you think I wanted to call you? That’s not how doctor — patient privilege works.”

“Well, now you’ve tipped Newman off, and you could have gotten yourself killed in the process. The best thing you can do right now is get out of here. Go home.”

“I’m sorry, but you need me. If he has a woman in there — if he’s using my methods to torture her — then I need to be there to help.”

Frost had no time to argue with her or to wait for the Berkeley police to knock politely on Newman’s front door. He could hear the song playing in the garden above him. If a woman really was being tortured in the house, he knew who that woman was. Lucy.

“Wait for me in your car,” he snapped. “Don’t get out until I come back.”

He turned to the driveway, but Dr. Stein held his arm. “Inspector, listen to me. I’m not wrong about this. That button you showed me? I saw Darren’s sport coat. It’s missing a button just like that one.”

“I said, go back to your car, Dr. Stein.”

He watched her walk away unhappily, with her head down and her hands in her pockets. When she disappeared, he jogged up the slick driveway to the patio gate and let himself inside. He climbed the steps, listening to the music, which came from everywhere, in multiple speakers hidden inside the arbor. The song ended and then repeated from the beginning. The Night Bird kept singing. Taunting him.

A flagstone walkway led from the courtyard to the house. At the living room window, he peered inside. He could see all the way to the open back windows, overlooking the canyon. A pass-through connected the room to the kitchen, which was dark. He could see a hallway leading to the bedrooms, but he didn’t see anyone inside.

Then, through the speakers, a woman screamed.

It sounded as if she were next to him. Behind him. Above him. Her odd, strangled cry got louder until it drowned out the music, and then, with a gasp, it fell silent. He didn’t recognize the distorted voice; he didn’t know if it was Lucy.

Frost drew his gun. He bolted to the double front doors and pounded on them with his fist. “Police! Open the door!”

No one answered.

He twisted the knob with his hand, and it turned. The door was open. He shoved it with his shoulder and spilled inside. Cool, clifftop air whipped through the house from the rear windows. Fresh orchids scented the foyer. Down the dark hallway, a dog barked wildly at the unexpected intruder, scratching to claw its way through a closed door. He shouted again.

“Police!”

Carole King stopped singing. A door at the end of the hallway opened, letting out a triangle of light. Frost aimed his gun at the doorway and balanced his wrist with his other hand. “Come out slowly, and put your hands in the air.”

He saw a bare foot nudge the door wider. A man stood in the doorway, his hands up, his body lost in shadows. He wore only loose-fitting boxers. “Come closer,” Frost demanded. “Slowly.”

The man approached him step by step. The light of the foyer splashed over his face, and Frost recognized Darren Newman. Newman’s mouth was creased into a smile. He didn’t show fear or surprise at a confrontation with an armed policeman inside his house. The dog kept barking from the other bedroom, but Newman silenced it with a snap of his fingers.

“Is there a problem?” Newman asked.

Frost didn’t lower his gun. “Who else is in this house?”

“My secretary.”

“I heard a woman scream,” Frost said.

“What can I say? Simona is loud when we’re having sex.”

“Get her out here,” Frost snapped.

Newman rolled his eyes and called over his shoulder. “Simona, there’s someone who wants to meet you. The cops want to make sure I’m not strangling you or something.”

Frost kept an eye on the doorway. The bedroom door opened all the way, revealing the rumpled end of a king-sized bed and walls covered in a metallic wallpaper made up of different stripes of blue. A young woman wandered toward him, unconcerned by his gun. She had severely short blond hair, and she wore a peach-colored man’s dress shirt, unbuttoned down the front to reveal her stomach and the half-moons of her breasts. A black towel was wrapped around her waist.

“Is this one of your jokes, Darren?” she asked. “Is this guy a stripper or something?”

“No, he’s really a cop.”

Frost reholstered his gun. “Are you all right, miss?”

“Other than being interrupted in the middle of a good banging, I’m fine,” she told him.

“Are you here voluntarily? Were you coerced in any way to have sex this evening?”

“Coerced? Hardly.”

“Have you taken any drugs or consumed any alcohol?”

“That’s none of your business,” Simona fired back. “And if you’re planning to tell me about Darren’s past, don’t be boring. I know all about it. You people should leave him alone.”

“Do you remember how you got here tonight?” Frost asked.

“Do I remember?” the woman asked. “What kind of question is that?”

Newman flicked his fingers like a magician readying an illusion. “He thinks I put you in a trance to have sex with me. You’re hypnotized, didn’t you realize? Haven’t you seen the news today? When I play the song ‘Nightingale,’ you will get on your back, and you won’t remember a thing in the morning.”

“Oh, I’ll remember,” Simona told Frost. “Believe me. I’m all stretched out.”

Newman winked. “Well, are you satisfied, Officer?”

“For now,” Frost replied.

“Then get out of the house. Leave me your card, too. I bet your superiors will be interested to hear you about you breaking in here with your gun in hand. Of course, I was really hoping it would be Frankie. I was looking forward to taking out a restraining order against her.”

Frost began to appreciate Newman’s talent for manipulation. He could see in the man’s reptilian eyes exactly what he was. A ruthless, calculating predator.

“You knew Dr. Stein was following you?”

“Sure, I spotted her behind me on the bridge. She’s scary. You should keep an eye on her. No telling what she might do.”

“Darren’s right,” Simona added. “I met that bitch. You could tell she was hot for him. I think she’s obsessed.”

Newman gave the woman’s bare ass a playful slap. “Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Simona walked down the hallway with an exaggerated sway in her hips. Frost was careful to keep his eyes on Newman’s face and not on the barely dressed girl. Newman grabbed a pack of cigarettes from a bowl near the open front door and strolled with Frost out to the courtyard. He lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the cold air.

“Is this your house?” Frost asked him.

“My parents own it. They’re in Zurich now. They travel a lot.”

“Your parents have been very good to you. They get you out of a lot of trouble.”

“That’s what parents do,” Newman replied.

“What about the dog? Does he belong to them, too?”

“No, that’s Simona’s. Pissant yipper dog never shuts up. I may have to kill it.”

He made the threat so casually that it took Frost’s breath away. There was not a shred of doubt in his mind that Newman was serious. It made him want to go back inside and tell the young girl that she was in danger, even if she didn’t believe him.

“A lot of people think you killed Merrilyn Somers, too,” Frost told him.

“Sooner or later, every bitch needs to be put down,” Newman said with a smirk.

“None of this is funny.”

“No? You’re just like Frankie. You don’t appreciate my sense of humor.”

Frost leaned in close to the man, but Darren Newman didn’t look easily intimidated. He was too cocky. Too sure of himself.

“Where is she?” Frost asked.

“Who?”

“Lucy Hagen.”

“I have no idea who that is,” Newman replied.

“I want her back. I want her back right now.”

“Is this another one of Frankie’s unfortunate patients? Too bad. I wonder what this one will do when the music starts playing. Drive her car off a cliff. Swallow a bottle of pills. Slit her wrists. Whoever this Night Bird is, you have to admire his imagination.”

Frost didn’t like being baited. And this man was good at it.

“You made a mistake this time, Mr. Newman. You screwed up.”

“Did I? How so?” He took another casual drag on his cigarette.

“You’ve been setting someone up. A man you wanted to frame, just like you framed Leon Willis. The thing is, this man caught you on videotape in a bar. We can put the two of you together. That’s going to make it hard to sell him as the one behind the game. It won’t be like Merrilyn Somers.”

In the semidarkness of the courtyard, Frost saw a darker shadow flit across Darren Newman’s face. He’d struck a nerve. Newman didn’t know about the video. Even so, the man’s smile quickly returned.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied. “But a video of me in a bar? Is that the best you can do? I go to a lot of bars. I’m a party animal. Simona will tell you that. I think you better take a long, hard look at the lies that Frankie has been spreading about me. I’m beginning to wonder whether Frankie is doing this herself. The woman isn’t stable. She lost her father recently, did you know that? Tragedies like that can push people over the edge.”

Frost turned away, but Newman called after him.

“Don’t forget to leave me your card.”

Frost dug in his wallet and extracted a card, which he placed in Newman’s hand. The man studied it in the dim light of the garden. “Inspector Frost Easton,” he said. “Who’s your boss in the department, Frost?”

“Jess Salceda.”

“Oh, sure, I know Jess. I’m sure she remembers me, too. I’ll call her tomorrow and tell her about your visit this evening. I think she’ll tell you and Frankie to stay away from me. The last thing the San Francisco Police need is another harassment lawsuit.”

The light inside the car cast shadows under Francesca Stein’s eyes. She brushed back a few loose strands of her brown hair and faked a smile, but Frost could see that she was broken down. Her face, which was always thin, looked fragile. She had her hands in her lap. Her back was arrow straight. Hot air blew from the vents, making the interior warm.

“He knew I was following him,” she said.

“Yes.”

“He played me. He lured me here, and he knew I’d make a fool of myself. No one will believe a thing I say about him now.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re right about him,” Frost told her, “but my own credibility isn’t going to be too high after tonight, either.”

Stein turned to face him. Something about her vulnerability made him conscious of how attractive she was. “I’m sorry that I put you in that position,” she said.

“Newman’s good at what he does,” Frost said.

“Yes, he is.” She leaned back against the headrest. He could see the slope of her neck. “Can I confess something to you, Frost? I’m not sure why. I just feel the need to say it out loud.”

He noticed that she’d used his first name, which she’d never done before. “Say whatever you like.”

“I was attracted to Darren Newman when I met him,” she said. “I hate it, I’m not proud of it, but it was chemical. I’m sure that makes no sense to you.”

“I’m a man. I’m never on safe ground trying to figure out what women want.”

“Well, you’d think I’d be smarter than that, but I’m not. I’m married. I’m older than he is. I’m a scientist. I still found him difficult to resist.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

She hesitated long enough to make him wonder what she was going to say. “No.”

“Then it sounds like you have nothing to regret,” he replied, but he wondered if she was lying.

“Oh, I have plenty of regrets when it comes to Darren,” Stein said.

The shadows made her face difficult to read. He wished that he understood her better, but this woman lived in a separate world, where he couldn’t reach her. “You’re wrong about something, you know.”

“What’s that?”

“You said I didn’t like you. I do. I didn’t think I would, but that’s just because I don’t have a great history with therapists. You’re smart, tough, and you care about your patients. I respect that.”

“Thank you.”

“I also need your help,” he said. “Another woman disappeared yesterday. We both know the danger she’s in. I need to find her. Every minute counts.”

Stein closed her eyes. “One of my patients?”

“She came to your office this week. Her name is Lucy Hagen.”

“What do you want? What can I do?”

“Tell me about TF,” Frost said.

He could feel her freeze. “What?”

“You wrote a note. ‘TF. Fall guy.’”

“How do you know about that?” she asked.

“I was in your office. I found the note in your garbage can.”

“You searched my office?” Stein asked. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“You didn’t give me any choice.”

“Did you look at my patient files?”

“No, I didn’t violate anyone’s privacy.”

“Except mine.” She shook her head in dismay.

“I don’t care if you’re angry. The only thing I care about is stopping this man before he hurts anyone else, and you’re standing in my way. I’m not the enemy, Frankie. You’ve got to tell me the truth. You have a patient with the initials T. F., and he knows something about the Night Bird. I need to talk to him.”

“I’m sorry, he’s adamant. No police. I can’t give him up just because you want me to. That’s not how it works.”

“Then talk to him,” Frost said. “Persuade him.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise you anything.”

“I need whatever he can tell me.” Frost opened the door of the car, letting in cool air and the noise of the wind in the pines. He hesitated. “Darren told me you lost your father recently. Is that true?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t seem to care about gestures of sympathy. “What did Darren say about it?”

“It’s not important.”

“I want to know. Please.”

“He said tragedies like that can push someone over the edge,” Frost said.

Stein reached out and took hold of the steering wheel with clenched fists. “That bastard.”

“Does that mean something to you?”

“My father went off the edge of a cliff in Point Reyes while he was hiking,” Stein said.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I haven’t lost a parent, but I can imagine how difficult it must be.”

“It was a complicated relationship,” Stein said. “We weren’t close.”

“Even so.”

Stein stared through the windshield. “Driving here, over the hills, I kept looking over the edge of the cliff. I thought about what it must be like to fall. How your body accelerates. How the ground rushes toward you. What do you have time to think about? What goes through your head? I wonder about his last moments—”

“You shouldn’t do this to yourself,” Frost said, but he wasn’t sure that she was even aware that he was still in the car with her.

“I keep feeling like I’m missing something...,” she began.

Her voice trailed away. Her mouth was open.

He thought, What’s your worst memory?

“Frankie?”

A tremble shuddered in her lower lip. A single glassy tear slipped down her face like melting snow. Her brown eyes were fixed in the darkness. Then, out of nowhere, her entire body convulsed. A spasm jolted her like the touch of a live wire, and she grabbed hold of herself and caved inward.

“Frankie!”

Her body twitched violently; her knees slammed up against the steering wheel. He grabbed one flying wrist. Then the other. He held her as she wriggled in his grasp, and she screamed out one word, drawing it out long and loud: “Stop!”

Seconds later, as quickly as it had come, the seizure washed away. Her body calmed. Her breathing quieted, and her face reddened with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

“Are you okay? What was that?”

“Grief,” she said. “A panic attack. That’s all. Everything in the world caught up with me for a moment.”

“Come to my car. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine now.”

“You shouldn’t drive.”

She put a hand on top of his. Her skin was moist. “It would help if you could not be a cop for a minute, Frost.”

“I’m not being a cop. Just a human being.”

“Then trust me when I tell you I’ll be fine. It came. It went. It’s not coming back.”

“Do you have some kind of illness? Is it epilepsy?”

“No, there’s nothing like that. Really. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl. I don’t need anyone to rescue me.”

“I’ll follow you back to the city,” Frost said. “I want to make sure you don’t have any problems.”

“If you like.”

Reluctantly, Frost got out of the car. He hiked down the narrow street toward his Suburban, but he kept looking back over his shoulder. Dr. Stein started the engine of her own car, but she waited for him instead of driving away. He climbed into his SUV and put the truck into drive, and both of their vehicles headed back into the Berkeley hills.

He thought about Francesca Stein as he followed her. She was strange, complicated, and beautiful, like a puzzle box for which there was no key. He liked her, but he didn’t particularly like the way she made him feel. She was out of his league.