Linda Fairstein - Entombed

In all of this, it suddenly occurred to me, Zeldin had never opened his mouth to offer help. I twisted around to confront him, but he was nowhere in sight.

"Is it taking them as long as it feels?" Ellen asked.

I had removed all the thorns from her face. Blood had streaked down her cheeks and lined her neck. It caked on my hands as well.

"Are you okay if I go back to the door? Maybe Mercer's having trouble getting in."

She nodded.

"Scotty-don't even think about moving a hair until Mercer and I get back," I said, but he didn't seem capable of trying. I balled up my bloody scarf and tucked it beneath his head.

I retraced my steps through the African desert. The late-afternoon sun was casting shadows now, and all of the plants seemed more sinister than they had before Ellen's assault-branches and tendrils and leaves as large as elephant ears reaching out over the path as though to slow my retreat and grab on to me.

I broke into a trot as the walkway sloped downhill, tree limbs grazing the top of my head and catching on the sleeves of my jacket. The long cylindrical tunnel was dark and claustrophobic, almost like an empty subway tube. I kept looking behind me because it sounded as though I were being chased, but it was just the noise of my own footsteps echoing off the metallic walls.

Out of Africa now, and passing through the end of the tunnel, I slipped in a puddle of water that had dripped from an overhead sprinkler, and grabbed the moss-covered rocks to stop myself from falling. Their surface felt hairy and damp, like a handful of caterpillars resting in the shade.

I pushed off and jogged up the curving ramp, snagged on the head by hanging jade vines and the pods of cacao plants. The Victorian reflecting pool was like an oasis in the middle of the other, overgrown faux environments, but it took only seconds for me to dash through it before being launched back into the dank humidity of the tropical jungle.

There was no sign of human life in the dense growth, but as I ran around the base of the huge tree trunk, I could hear feet pounding on the skywalk above me. I ducked off the path and into a mass of ferns, looking up and fearing another encounter with the three young thugs. It was only the same workman I had seen on the way in, oblivious to everything but the browned tips of his plants. He seemed anxious to find out who was racing through his sanctuary this time, and from the expression on his face was more frightened by the encounter than I.

By the time I reached the Palm Dome, I could hear pounding against the front door, and through the glass windows could see Mercer, a security guard, and two EMTs. Once I let them inside, I started to double back-out of breath myself-and told them what they would find as they ran on ahead, pointing in the direction where I had left Ellen Gunsher and Scotty Taren.

Mercer stopped me and tried to calm me down. "Why did you call for medics?"

"Ellen's cut up pretty badly, but I think it's all superficial. I'm worried about Scotty, though. He's got some kind of coronary history and he's just collapsed in there like a lump."

"Take some deep ones," he said, as I bent over, my hands on my knees, trying to regulate my breathing. "You never met with Zeldin?"

I straightened up. "Yeah, he was here. Didn't you pass him on your way in?"

"No. The security guard said I just missed him. He sped off the grounds in one of those minivans."

"Who was driving?"

"According to the guard, Zeldin himself was behind the wheel," Mercer said.

"What about kids? Did you see any 'wild child' types?"

"Yeah. When the guard opened the gate for me, a trio ran out. Hoodies?"

"Exactly. We've got to get the local precinct on it. They're the ones who pushed Ellen, and it seemed to me it was on some kind of signal from Zeldin."

A blue and white squad car pulled up in front of the conservatory with its lights flashing. Uniformed cops got out on each side and we met them at the door, repeating the story and suggesting that they get started in case the three teens were still moving through the neighborhood in a pack. They radioed out the generic description with orders to bring the group in for questioning and then took off to sweep the area before darkness enveloped the city streets.

"There's a second ambulance on the way. You want to stay here by the door while I see if they need a hand with Scotty?" Mercer asked.

"Sure. But if you pass one of the gardeners on your way through, send him back to relieve me. Ellen's a mess. I might as well help with her-she's hysterical."

I stared out the tall windows and watched as the setting sun threw long shadows across the frozen flower beds. Looking at the bleak landscape I found it hard to believe that within two months' time, a dazzling array of chrysanthemums, zinnias, and peonies would color every inch of these same borders.

The vibrations of my cell phone startled me and I pulled it out of my jacket pocket to answer it. Maybe a DNA match to the rapist we'd been calling John Doe would brighten the bloody afternoon.

"Hello?" I said tentatively, hoping to hear a cheerful reply from Dr. Thaler.

"Maybe your skinny little ass fits through this gate, but I'm too big to squeeze in and too old to climb over."

"Where are you, Mike?" The sound of his voice was the best antidote to my fatigue and depression.

"You told me ol' Gun-shy was here, didn't you?" he said, referring to Ellen by the nickname the office trial dogs had given her for her well-noted fear of the courtroom. "I kind of missed abusing her. Thought you two broads might need a hand. I went to the gate, exactly where Mercer told me to be, only nobody was there to let me in. So I drove back around to the other entrance on Fordham Road. Same story."

"Damn it, he's got the security guard from the Mosholu gate in here with him. There's been a bad scene-I'll tell you about it. Are you-do you think you're ready-"

"C'mon, Coop. Commandeer one of those golf carts the staff scoot around in. Pick me up and get me inside."

I started back to find Mercer, but first walked right into the gardener he had sent to take over my post. "Do you speak English?"

"No, señora," he said, shaking his head.

"Mi amigo, el detectivo?"

"Sí."

" Lo dice que yo soy buscando un otro amigo. Yo soy buscando Mike. Okay?"

I didn't know whether I came close to making sense but counted on the quiet man to tell Mercer that I had gone to find Mike. It was the best I could do under the circumstances.

I pushed open the door and ran down the path. Three electric golf carts were lined up on the roadway. I sat in one and turned the key in the ignition, pressing down on the pedal to get onto the main drive, heading east and looking for the road signs that marked the direction of each of the gates. I was bound to run into another guard along the way.

I traveled a few hundred yards before the road forked, one arrow pointing to the Twin Lakes and the other toward the children's adventure garden. One thing I didn't need was another adventure, so I skirted around behind that plot of land in the direction of the new visitors center.

The paths were meant to be scenic. Rock gardens gave way to gazebos that were surrounded by vast swaths of seasonal plantings that would bloom when these dismal days gave way to spring. The daylight was dimming and I had to stop in the middle of the next intersection to read the signs.

I dialed Mike's number as I drove near the conservatory gate. "I can't spot you," I said. "Do you see the headlights on this thing I'm driving?"

"Where the hell are you?"

"Near the ticket booth, in the middle of a big parking lot. I'm the only jalopy in the joint."

"Wrong gate. C'mon, blondie. Try finding the building that Zeldin took us to, where he's got that Raven Society office. I'm over on that side. How can you possibly lose Fordham Road?"