Tess Gerritsen - Body Double

“How did you learn all this?”

“I spoke to the cop who helped her do it.”

“A cop?”

“A Detective Ballard, out in Newton.”

“So the alias-it wasn’t because she was running from the law?”

“No. You can probably guess what she was running from. It’s an old story.”

“A man?”

“Unfortunately, a very wealthy man. Dr. Charles Cassell.”

“I don’t know the name.”

“Castle Pharmaceuticals. He founded it. Anna was a researcher in his company. They became involved, but three years later, she tried to leave him.”

“And he wouldn’t let her.”

“Dr. Cassell sounds like the kind of guy you don’t just walk out on. She ended up in a Newton ER one night with a black eye. From there, it got seriously scary. Stalking. Death threats. Even a dead canary in her mailbox.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, that’s true love for you. Sometimes, the only way you can stop a man from hurting you is to shoot him-or to hide. Maybe she’d still be alive if she’d chosen the first option.”

“He found her.”

“All we have to do is prove it.”

“Can you?”

“We haven’t been able to talk to Dr. Cassell yet. Quite conveniently, he left Boston the morning after the shooting. He’s been traveling on business for the past week, and isn’t expected home till tomorrow.” Rizzoli lifted the glass of orange juice to her lips, and the clatter of ice cubes jarred Maura’s nerves. Rizzoli set the drink back down and was silent for a moment. She seemed to be buying time, but for what? Maura wondered.

“There’s something else about Anna Leoni you need to know,” Rizzoli said. She pointed to the file on the table. “I brought that for you.”

Maura opened the folder and felt a jolt of recognition. It was a color photocopy of a wallet-sized photo. A young girl with black hair and a serious gaze was standing between an older couple whose arms enfolded her in a protective embrace. She said, softly: “That girl could be me.”

“She was carrying that in her wallet. We believe that’s Anna at around ten years old, with her parents, Ruth and William Leoni. They’re both dead now.”

“These are her parents?”

“Yes.”

“But… they’re so old.”

“Yes, they were. The mother, Ruth, was sixty-two years old when that photo was taken.” Rizzoli paused. “Anna was their only child.”

An only child. Older parents. I know where this is going, thought Maura, and I’m afraid of what she’s about to tell me. This is why she really came tonight. It’s not just about Anna Leoni and her abusive lover; it’s about something far more startling.

Maura looked up at Rizzoli. “She was adopted?”

Rizzoli nodded. “Mrs. Leoni was fifty-two the year Anna was born.”

“Too old for most agencies.”

“Which is why they probably had to arrange a private adoption, through an attorney.”

Maura thought of her own parents, now both dead. They too had been older, in their forties.

“What do you know about your own adoption, Doc?”

Maura took a deep breath. “After my father died, I found my adoption papers. It was all done through an attorney here in Boston. I called him a few years ago, to see if he would tell me my birth mother’s name.”

“Did he?”

“He said my records were sealed. He refused to release any information.”

“And you didn’t pursue it?”

“I haven’t, no.”

“Was the attorney’s name Terence Van Gates?”

Maura went dead silent. She didn’t have to answer the question; she knew Rizzoli could read it in her stunned gaze. “How did you know?” Maura asked.

“Two days before her death, Anna checked into the Tremont Hotel, here in Boston. From her hotel room, she made two phone calls. One was to Detective Ballard, who was out of town at the time. The other was to Van Gates’s law office. We don’t know why she contacted him-he hasn’t returned my calls yet.”

Now the revelation is coming, thought Maura. The real reason she’s here tonight, in my kitchen.

“We know Anna Leoni was adopted. She had your blood type and your birth date. And just before she died, she was talking to Van Gates-the attorney who handled your adoption. An amazing set of coincidences.”

“How long have you known all this?”

“A few days.”

“And you didn’t tell me? You kept it from me.”

“I didn’t want to upset you if it wasn’t necessary.”

“Well, I am upset that you waited this long.”

“I had to, because there was one more thing I needed to find out.” Rizzoli took a deep breath. “This afternoon, I had a talk with Walt DeGroot in the DNA lab. Earlier this week, I asked him to expedite that test you requested. This afternoon, he showed me the autorads he’d developed. He did two separate VNTR profiles. One was Anna Leoni’s. The other was yours.”

Maura sat frozen, braced for the blow she knew was about to fall.

“They’re a match,” said Rizzoli. “The two genetic profiles are identical. ”

THE CLOCK ON the kitchen wall ticked. The ice cubes slowly melted in the glasses on the table. Time moved on, but Maura felt trapped in that moment, Rizzoli’s words looping endlessly in her head.

“I’m sorry,” said Rizzoli. “I didn’t know how else to tell you. But I thought you had a right to know that you have a…” Rizzoli stopped.

Had. I had a sister. And I never even knew she existed.

Rizzoli reached across the table and grasped Maura’s hand. It was unlike her; Rizzoli was not a woman who easily gave comfort or offered hugs. But here she was, holding Maura’s hand, watching her as though she expected Maura to crumble.

“Tell me about her,” Maura said softly. “Tell me what kind of woman she was.”

“Detective Ballard’s the one you should talk to.”

“Who?”

“Rick Ballard. He’s in Newton. He was assigned to her case after Dr. Cassell assaulted her. I think he got to know her pretty well.”

“What did he tell you about her?”

“She grew up in Concord. She was briefly married, at twenty-five, but it didn’t last. They had an amicable divorce, no kids.”

“The ex-husband’s not a suspect?”

“No. He’s since remarried, and he’s living in London.”

A divorcée, like me. Is there a gene that preordains failed marriages?

“As I said, she worked for Charles Cassell’s company, Castle Pharmaceuticals. She was a microbiologist, in their research division.”

“A scientist.”

“Yeah.”

Again, like me, thought Maura, gazing at her sister’s face in the photo. So I know that she valued reason and logic, as I do. Scientists are governed by intellect. They take comfort in facts. We would have understood each other.

“It’s a lot to absorb, I know it is,” said Rizzoli. “I’m trying to put myself in your place, and I really can’t imagine. It’s like discovering a parallel universe, where there’s another version of you. Finding out she’s been here all this time, living in the same city. If only…” Rizzoli stopped.

Is there any phrase more useless than “if only”?

“I’m sorry,” said Rizzoli.

Maura breathed deeply and sat up straight, indicating she was not in need of hand-holding. That she was capable of dealing with this. She closed the folder and slid it back to Rizzoli. “Thank you, Jane.”

“No, you keep it. That photocopy’s meant for you.”

They both stood up. Rizzoli reached into her pocket and laid a business card on the table. “You might want this, too. He said you could call him with any questions.”

Maura looked down at the name on the card: RICHARD D. BALLARD, DETECTIVE. NEWTON POLICE DEPARTMENT.