Tupman nodded. Well take it a day at a time. Somebodyll be on him as long as needs to be.
Thanks, Alan said, then added, knowing he probably didnt need to, Unmarked cars-dont want to spook him.
Tupman glared at him and punched a button. Got it, he said dryly.
Lindsey closed her mothers front door quietly behind her. Across the tiny apartment she could see her mother on the patio, snipping off spent blossoms from pots of chrysanthemums. It was a chilly, breezy day, and Lindsey was pleased to see shed remembered to put on a sweater.
Mom, she called, its me-Lindsey.
Susan looked up, and to Lindseys relief, her expression changed from alarm and suspicion to a smile of recognition. Oh-my goodness. Lindsey-how nice! She waved her snippers at the array of pots on various tables and stands around the patio. I was just cleaning up these mums-theyre about done for the season, I think. Im going to plant pansies next. Did you bring me some pansies?
I brought you pansies last week, Mom, Lindsey said, and hastened to add, as a look of uncertainty crossed her mothers face, but Ill bring some more next time I come.
Yellow ones, Susan said emphatically. I like the yellow ones best. They brighten up the place. Well- she pushed back her hair with the back of her hand, then pulled off her gloves and laid them and the snippers on the wrought-iron table -shall we have something cold to drink? See what there is in the fridge. I think there might be some iced tea
Lindsey said, Sounds good, Mom, and laid the manila envelope shed brought with her on the table beside the gloves and snippers. Whats this?
Already on her way to the kitchen, Lindsey glanced back and said, Just some pictures I brought to show you. She felt quivery inside, now that the moment was almost upon her. Wait a minute, let me get us some tea first, okay?
She opened the refrigerator, removed a flat of wilted pansies from the bottom shelf and put it on the counter next to the sink, then got two bottles of sweetened lemon-flavored tea and shut the door. She returned to the patio to find her mother staring blankly down at the sheet of paper in her hand. The manila envelope had fallen unnoticed to the floor.
Mom?
Susan put out a groping hand, and Lindsey lunged, reaching her in time to guide her into a chair. She pulled out a chair for herself and sat in it, facing her mother. The piece of paper, upon which was printed the copy of the wedding photograph of James and Karen McKinney, now rested on Susans knees. Almost fearfully, Susan touched first one face, then the other.
Do you recognize them? Lindsey asked. Her throat hurt so intensely she could barely speak.
Susans shaking fingertips caressed the grooms smooth cheek, almost as if it was warm flesh she felt instead of cold paper. She nodded, and a tear fell onto the image, making a small wrinkled circle. James, she whispered. Oh, James She looked up at Lindsey and her face was bathed in tears. Hes dead. That man killed him-the one who says hes my husband. He shot him. I asked him why, but he wouldnt answer me. Why? Why would anybody want to kill James? He was such a good, sweet, gentle man
Lindsey slid from her chair and, kneeling, gathered her mother into her arms. She held her mother while she cried and cried. And all the time, Susan just kept asking, Why?
On Monday afternoon, a packet of files arrived from the Richmond, Virginia, PD. Included in the file were several clear photos of the woman rescued from the Chesapeake Bay, the one that came to be called Chesapeake Jane Doe. Carl, being a bit more adept with computer stuff than Alan, scanned them into a facial recognition program along with the high school graduation portrait of Karen McKinney and a recent photo of Susan Merrill. Shortly thereafter the computer came up with a positive match: Jane Doe and Karen McKinney and Susan Merrill were one and the same.
What do you think? Carl asked as they stood together staring at the monitor screen. Is this enough to pull him in?
Alan nodded grimly. He had his cell phone in his hand and was punching in numbers. Calling Lindsey?
Alan glanced at him as he listened to the rings. Id feel better knowing where she is and what shes doing before we do this. Dont want to take any chances on her getting into the middle of a situation. Carl nodded.
After a moment, Alan put the phone back in his pocket and plucked his jacket off the back of his chair. Shes not answering. She might be out jogging-she leaves her phone home when she runs. Im going to drive out theresee if I can locate her. Weve got Merrill boxed in. Lets hold off on bringing him in until weve got his daughter under wraps.
Safe, he thought.
Safe, he thought.
Lindsey left her car parked at the curb and walked up the driveway on legs that felt as if they might give way at any moment. The garage door was open, and so was the door to the backyard patio. She went on through, calling, Dad?
Lindsey? Im out here, honey-come on back.
He was cleaning the pool. How many times had she watched him do that? He was wearing a windbreaker with his Bermuda shorts and tennis sneakers with no socks-a typical San Diegans concession to winter-standing with his legs a little apart to brace himself against the pull of the strainer, methodically moving it back and forth, back and forth He could have installed an automatic cleaning system, like most of their friends had, especially now that they were all getting older, but he always insisted he liked the exercise.
This is a nice surprise, he said, and as always his face had lit up at the sight of her. The smile almost instantly turned to a frown of concern as he got a better look at her face. Honey? Whats wrong? Has something happened? As he spoke he was drawing the long-handled skimmer out of the water, laying it on the pool deck. He came toward her, drying his hands on his shorts, reaching for her. She backed away before he could touch her. His gaze dropped to the manila envelope in her hand, then rose again to her face. Lindsey? What have you got there?
She turned away from him and put the envelope on the patio table. She opened it and pulled out the wedding photo of Karen and James McKinneyslid it across the glass toward her father. When she looked up at him, she found that he was staring down at the photo, not looking at her.
Where did you get this? His voice sounded stifled.
Do you recognize them, Dad? She was amazed at how controlled her voice seemed.
He didnt reply. His face, his whole body seemed to have frozen.
Almost gently, she said, You do, dont you?
He cleared his throat. Well, its your mother, obviously, but I dont-did Alan give you this? Of course he did. He paused, and his smile was sad. Is he even your boyfriend, Lindsey?
She shook her head as if to clear away fog. Maybe-I dont know-does it matter? Her voice hardened. You know him, dont you? Of course you do. How could you forget the face of the man you killed?
He jerked as if shed slapped him. Lindsey? What are you talking about? Where did you get such an idea? I dont know what you-or Alan, the police, whoever-think Ive done.
No-dont lie to me. She was crying, suddenly. The fact that I have that photo should tell you I know pretty much everything. The police do, too. The only thing they cant figure out-the thing I cant understand, no matter how hard I try, is why?
There was a long silence. He drew a shaking hand over his face, which seemed to have aged a decade in a matter of minutes. I have always known this day would come. His voice sounded oddly stilted, as if he were reading from something hed written. He paused, then turned and started toward the house in a vague, lost sort of way. I have something I must give you. Something Ive been saving for you
No! Lindsey shouted at him, Dont walk away. I want you to tell me why. Forty years of lies, pretending to be my father, saying you loved us-Mom and me-
He turned back to her, his movements jerky, off-balance. No-that was not pretense. I love you, Lindsey, as my own daughter. Your mother-I loved her, too. I think I loved her maybe from the first.
Then why-how could you-
Please try to understand. He held out his hands to her in a kind of entreaty, but at the same time his voice seemed to grow stronger, to take on a note of determination-even pride. I was a soldier. I was doing what I had been trained to do. It was my duty-my mission. I believed I was doing what I had to do-
You had to kill them? She couldnt stop a shudder of revulsion.
Yes! His eyes were fierce; shed never seen him look like that before. They were the enemy-traitors to their country! And just that quickly the fire died, and his face looked haggard and ravaged. Or so I believed
He reached blindly for a chair and sat in it heavily, then raised tortured eyes to her face. Please, he said hoarsely. Sit down. I will tell you everything. But, you must let me begin at the beginning.
Chapter 12
I thought it would be safer to have her close to me. Then, I told myself, if her memory ever did return, I would be able to deal with her. The years went by and I dared to hope the day of reckoning would never come.
Excerpt from the confession of Alexi K.
FBI Files, Restricted Access,
Declassified 2010
Alan was standing on the steps of Lindseys townhouse, scowling at the top of a distant palm tree, the cell phone pressed hard against his ear. Im at Lindseys place, he told Carl. Shes not here, and neither is her car.
Whatre you thinking? She might have gone to confront Merrill herself? Would she do that, knowing what we know?
I dont know, Alan said, his voice reflecting the darkness of his thoughts. She might just have driven over to Mission Bay to take her run. Orshe might have decided to take matters into her own hands. I couldnt tell you. Whats the surveillance on Merrill saying?
They havent reported any movement, so Im assuming hes staying put.
Alan let out an exasperated breath. Yeah, but is he alone? Whats the matter with those guys? Have to have everything spelled out? He swore under his breath, making his way down the driveway in long strides to his car. Find out, Carl. I want to know if Merrills had any visitors.
Gotcha, Carl said. You heading over there?
On my way. He was already in his car. The engine fired and he drove through the gate and turned into the street with tires squealing.
First, I should tell you that my name-the one I was given at birth-is Alexi Kovalenko. I was born in Kiev, which is the capital city of Ukraine.
This isnt happening, Lindsey thought. She fought desperately not to throw up. The words seemed to come at her in a fierce wind. She felt coldalmost paralyzed. And at the same time endangeredpursued. Like a nightmare in which she was chased endlessly while struggling to run on limbs weighed down with thick, deep mud. She prayed it was a nightmare, and that she would wake up and it would be over and quickly forgotten.