Linda Fairstein - The DeadHouse

"You put that map in my hands, Ms. Cooper, and when you prosecute Professor Lavery, I'll come back from Paris and testify at the trial. Now, who has the map? In what safe place did you leave it this morning?"

"You do know the piece of paper I mean?"

I tried to force myself to focus. Once he knew how to get his hands on the map, there was no need to keep me alive. I thought of the paper in my pocket and my hand unconsciously moved stroke my throat, thinking of Lola's fate and imagining the many uses of the thick length of rope Shreve had brought back with him. There were two other copies, and I had to make him think was indispensable in getting them into his possession.

"I didn't know about the significance of the map when I came across it, of course. I never knew the story of your grandfather's diamonds until just the other day. But I do know how get it for you."

He was calm now, and talking to me as he squatted next to the chair.

"Look, Ms. Cooper. I'm a French citizen. You get me this map, and I'll find Freeland's ransom, go back to my home abroad, and donate half the money to the college or any cause you name."

I listened. Surely he would know we could extradite him from France. Or was he that certain that he could talk his way out of a murder charge?

"We're talking about millions of dollars." My head dropped to avoid his gaze. "Ah, ever the earnest prosecutor. Once you help convince all the authorities how Charlotte died, I'll be home free. And you'll still have Claude to blame for Lola Dakota's death."

"You'll need me to get the map, Mr. Shreve. The original is in the safe in Paul Battaglia's office."

"Your team is too efficient not to have made some copies. I took the liberty of looking through your file-the one that was in my car-but no map."

"One copy." I sucked in some frigid air and prayed that what I was about to say would not put Mike in harm's way. "Detective Chapman has that copy. And I can help you get it from him."

"How can you do that?"

I would have to think of something specific by daybreak, less than an hour or so away. "Because he'll do whatever I ask him to do."

"No wonder you've got some problems with your boyfriend. Rather confident of that, aren't you?"

"Chapman's a very intelligent man, Mr. Shreve. If you let me call him and arrange for him to meet us, you can tell him exactly what you've told me about Charlotte Voight and Lola Dakota."

"Surrender?"

"If Charlotte's death was accidental, and Lavery killed Lola, then you've got nothing to worry about."

I needed to talk myself out of this black abyss and into the open areas outside the building where someone might actually be able to see us once the morning came.

"I'd rather get back home to the Sixth Arrondissement and let you break the news to the NYPD. Where's the Blackwells Island miniature that my grandfather had Bennino make, Ms. Cooper? Do you know that, too?"

I moved my head up and down, slowly trying to think of a possible answer.

"Was that a'yes'?"

"Yes, I do." Shreve himself had given me the idea when he had talked about Lola's weeks in hiding. "It's at Lily's house, Lola's sister." Why hadn't I thought of that possibility in all the days since the murder? Lola must have taken a lot of things with her to occupy her during the weeks in New Jersey. She was too much of a workhorse not to have done so. If that's where she was when she figured out Jennings's deadhouse scheme, that's probably where the model was concealed.

I went on weaving my tale, which seemed to interest Winston Shreve. "There's a key to a trunk that's in Lily's garage. It's where Lola left the miniature when she came back to the city. Chapman has that key. I'm supposed to meet him at nine o'clock this morning to go with him to pick up the model."

"And all that charade about old man Lockhart and going up to listen to his story?"

"To try to determine who else knew about the map and the diamonds. If you let me call Chapman now, on your cell phone, know he'll agree to meet with us." And I know he'll get the tech unit to trace the call immediately. They could do amazing thing with satellite systems, even pinpointing the location of the caller in a matter of seconds.

"I wouldn't want to alarm him in the middle of the night. He might be busy."

Shreve was right. Mike might be much too involved with Valerie to be giving me a second thought.

I didn't want to end my life in this godforsaken ruin like one more of the outcasts sent here and left to die. Slowly, I raised my head to meet his eyes. "I've studied your grandfather's map, Mr. Shreve. I believe I could recognize the shapes of some of the areas, the pieces of land where the wooden sheds once stood, if I saw them. If you want to walk outside with me, I can try to help you find the rocks that correspond with the locations noted on the map."

"That's a good way to start, Ms. Cooper." He turned to look out the hollowed window frame. It was still dark, and the storm had subsided. The precipitation had stopped and large wet flakes of snow blew lazily upward from the ground instead of falling in sheets. "The positions on the map, were they numbered?"

"Yes, yes, they were numbered." The first time I said that word aloud I recalled another set of numbers. In the pocket of the black sweater that we'd found in Lola Dakota's apartment just hours after her murder was the slip of paper that we had removed. The paper that bore the words the deadhouse, followed by a list of numbers. They meant nothing to us at the time, and now I realized they must have been the key to the map that Lola had deciphered while holed up at her sister's home.

Lola had come back from New Jersey wearing that sweater, but removed it at some point before she walked out of her apartment for the last time. Shreve had gone to intercept her, looking for the map and the numbers that might correspond to it and lead him to the diamonds.

"The numbers, Ms. Cooper. Tell me how they were ordered." "I honestly can't remember that. I know that the lower numbers started at the southern tip of the island. I, uh, I could probably show you where some of the areas that were highlighted on the map are, if I could actually see the terrain."

"Nice try, Ms. Cooper. That's hardly the way it was half a century ago."

"But some of it is exactly the same. I, I-when I saw the map, I didn't even realize what the outline of the Strecker building represented. But I know there were areas to the east of the seawall, that were starred by Professor Dakota on her map." After Shreve's explanation this morning, it didn't take much else to figure out where the wooden sheds had been built, close to the morgue and out of view of patients arriving from Manhattan.

He was too smart to trust me entirely.

"You've got nothing to lose." I tried to say it casually, not to reveal how anxious I was to get out of this hellhole. "I can't get very far." Surrounded as we were on three sides by water that was so cold it would kill the strongest swimmer within minutes of submersion, even before the current could carry one away, and bounded on the fourth side by a razor-wire fence, Shreve could hardly disagree.

He picked up one of his neckties and rewound it around m hands, binding them in front of me-rather than behind-so could move more easily. He carried the long piece of rope in his left hand, while lifting me to my feet with his right. "I'll call your bluff, Ms. Cooper. You've got a bit of time to see if you can find me a gem or two."

It took me several seconds on my feet before I was able to walk a few steps. The cold air had numbed them, and I was fearful frostbite. That was a good thing, I reminded myself. It at le meant that I thought I was going to survive this ordeal if I was worried about losing a few toes.