Perri O'Shaughnessy - Unlucky in Law

“You couldn’t have prevented this.”

“She was up against a pro. Amazing that she survived.”

“She practices karate three times a week. She fought like crazy, probably kept herself alive. You’re sure it was Krilov? The Russian?”

“It was the Russian.”

“The bones, Paul. Why would Sergey Krilov take them? Why are they worth a guard’s life, a priest’s life, a doctor’s life? He’s gone on some sort of rampage. I’m calling Alex Zhukovsky again.”

“I think the rampage is over,” Paul said. “He wanted the bones, and he has them. Have the Sacramento police call me too when they get in touch. I can’t believe I let that bastard touch Ginger.”

Friday morning Nina made a few calls, then got Bob off to school, which wasn’t simple.

“I hate this school. I hate all the kids.”

“Why don’t you make more of an effort?” she said. She was making his lunch, slapping blackberry jelly and peanut butter on wheat bread, tossing a bag of chips and a milk carton in the brown bag. Ordinarily, he made his own lunch, but when he was this contrary, he would go without rather than compromise. “Join a club. Get involved in fund-raising for the cross-country team. People are the same everywhere, you know. It’s not a regional thing.”

“I disagree,” he said, folding his arms. “Here they are all the same. They wear the same stupid Carmel clothes. They like the same jerk music and the same lame movies. They grew up together and I’m a freak and I hate it, Mom.”

He would not go, he informed her, refusing to eat, refusing to dress, and finally, refusing to get into the car until she threatened him with various punishments, and one finally caught his attention. “Get in that car now,” she said, “or I will take away your music. I will take away your computer and I will dump it in a ravine!”

One thing she had done right with him. She never made promises she didn’t fully intend to keep, and he knew it. He dragged around, but he got dressed and made it outside.

All the way there, while he maintained a silence as noxious and pervasive as the fumes spewing from the garbage truck up ahead, she agreed with him in her heart. For sensitive souls, such was high school. But if he was that kind of boy, it would probably prove just as hellacious at Tahoe.

After she dropped him at the school, forcing him to lean in for the kiss he was still just young enough not to refuse her, she parked on the street and tried calling the hospital. They found Ginger right away.

“Hey, you,” she said. “They shaved a perfect bald square very neatly in the hair above my forehead so they could dress the cut,” she said. “Normally, I might consider it a serendipitous style-statement, but I just got a really good haircut, damn it.”

“How are you?”

“Leaving as soon as they unhook the IV.”

“The guard’s doing okay.”

“I heard. Phil fought back. And the funny thing is, this kid, this loser, the other guard? He was quick enough to get people there that got Phil help, and interrupted the attack on me, without risking his own skin. Phil’s saving for a houseboat so he and his wife can spend their golden years floating around on Lake Shasta, drinking mai tais. Right this second, I’m motivated to join them.”

“What happened, exactly?”

“I knocked the knife out of his hand, I do remember that, but there were too many potential weapons in our lab, turns out. He whacked me on the head with the ezda, I’m told, although I jumped away and avoided serious damage. I hope I got his nuts good, at least.”

“The ezda? What’s that?”

“That bum, Kevan, talked us into buying an ESDA a couple of months ago. It’s an electrostatic device that detects indented writing on questionable documents. It’s as big as a portable copy machine, so this guy is strong.”

“Did you get a look at him?”

“No. He had a ski mask on. Somebody ought to outlaw those things, or at least register the name of any purchasers. I wish I knew who it was, because I consider our business unfinished. And I don’t like pending business.”

“We know-we think we know who attacked you, Ginger.”

“Great. I’ve got a pen. Just give me his address and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“His name is Sergey Krilov. He’s involved in our case, although I’m not sure how. We don’t know where he is. Anyway, you leave him to the police, Ginger.”

“Speaking of that, the police asked Carol to make a list of what’s missing from the lab, and it’s pretty clear what Krilov wanted, Nina, since he took every single thing on my bench.”

“He wanted the bones.”

“Yep.”

“And he got them.”

“Yep.” But Ginger sounded almost blithe, and Nina thought, she must be on Vicodin.

“Shit,” Nina said. “Now I’m more sure than ever-”

“Don’t fret, baby, he didn’t get everything. Just before he arrived, I decided to do another marrow extraction. I took fresh samples. I stored them in the fridge. I asked Carol to check this morning. Still there, frosty as they ought to be.”

“Really?”

“No shit.”

“That’s a great break!”

“The son of a bitch missed ’em. Yippee! We still don’t know why the bones are important, but it’s more obvious than ever that they are. I have new test results. I wish I could tell you what they meant. I can’t. Yet.”

“Right.” That meant Nina should cancel the appointment she had rushed to make this morning with Jaime. She had thought, with the bones missing, there was a chance she could get some time out of him, more time to develop their case. Since they still had marrow, that wouldn’t play.

“Ginger, this is important. Don’t tell anyone you have the marrow. That’s between you, me, and Paul.”

“And Carol. She’s cool. I’ll need new copies of the DNA profiles for our defendant and victim from you. They’re gone.”

“Done.” She made a note for Sandy to send copies immediately.

“I’ve run some new tests on the marrow, and I’m getting some good ideas. Sorry I can’t say what yet. I’m not sure I even remember. But the results weren’t lying on my bench, they were on the counter by the fridge, and Carol has ’ em safe. Is that cool or what?”

“That’s very cool. Do you feel able to stay on the phone with me a few more minutes? I have a strange little angle we’re working.” Nina filled her in on what she and Paul had been thinking, that there might be a Romanov link. “Is there any way you could compare his DNA to that family?”

“Maybe if I had several months, a translator, and a bunch of politicians smoothing the way.”

“Oh. I didn’t know it would be so hard.”

“One of those pretenders to the throne has been trying to compare his DNA with the DNA of one of the Romanov family dukes for years,” Ginger said. “It’s a political thing.”

“I guess the Romanovs are getting sick of all the Anastasia descendants out there.”

“Something else strange,” Ginger said.

“What’s that?”

“I’m forgetting something important. It’s a creepy feeling, like old age sneaking up on me. I had a thought and lost it.”

“You have a concussion,” Nina reminded her.

“Maybe-maybe even an insight. Damn.”

“It’ll come to you.” Nina heard rustling on the other end of the phone.

“The IV’s out,” Ginger said, “and I am out of here. I’m going back to the lab to survey the damage. I’ll call you later.”

“Is the doctor there? Did the doctor say you could leave?”

“Nobody’s here except me.”

“You took out the IV yourself?”

“See, that’s why I work with dead people. They are so much more patient than the living.”