The Safe Man Page 4
Pepin’s English made it difficult for Brian to fully grasp the story.
“Do you remember anything else about the story?”
“No, that is what I know. I tell you what I know.”
“Did he say who made these safes? Anything about the manufacturer?”
“I did ask him this and he say he could not find out. He said it was a big mystery, yes. He tried to learn. The safe came on a boat from France—this is long time ago—and there are no records anymore. In the war the Germans came and destroyed these records. He found nothing, because he was like you, with questions.”
Pepin made a spitting noise in the phone as if to signal the finality and the fruitlessness of searching for the origin of the Le Seuil safe.
“I have my work now,” he said.
“Yeah, okay,” Brian said. “Thank you for your help.”
“You show a picture of the door of the safe on the website,” Pepin suddenly said.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“You took the door off and leave it off?”
“Yes…”
Brian slowly hung up, even as he could hear Pepin’s voice on the line exhorting him to be cautious. He thought about the girl he had seen in the house on the island. He thought he now recognized her eyes. He picked up the phone again and called his wife at work. As soon as she heard his voice, she whispered that she was really busy. She wanted to talk to him but the phone was ringing off the wall. Her job was to take reservations for the most popular restaurant in town.
“Real quick, then,” he said. “I have to know. It’s a girl, right? We’re having a girl.”
“Why are you asking now?”
“Because I need to know right now.”
“I’m not going to tell you. You told me not to tell you.”
“I need to know, Laura. It’s important. Just tell me. Is it a girl?”
There was a long pause before she answered.
“Yes, it is a girl, Brian. You are the father of a daughter named Lucy.”
“Okay, thanks.”
He knew it was a significant moment and Laura was expecting more from him but it was all he could think to say. He put the phone down. He turned away from the workbench and looked at the old blue blanket that covered the door of the Le Seuil safe.
He knew what he had to do.
Robinette answered the door. This time Brian did not go to the service entrance.
“Look,” Robinette said before Brian could speak, “I am sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you. The police asked me for a list of names. Yours was on it. End of story.”
Brian noticed that there were deep lines under Robinette’s eyes now. He looked weary and defeated, even though he had gotten his daughter back.
“I’m not here about that,” Brian said. “I don’t care about that.”
“Then what do you want? You can’t just show up here and—”
“I want to talk to your daughter.”
“What? No, you’re not going near her. She’s been through enough. We’re moving.”
“I have to talk to her.”
“I’m going to call the police if you do not leave my property.”
“I want to talk to her about the ghost. About the little girl.”
Robinette closed his mouth and just stared. Brian saw recognition in his eyes. It was recognition of something that maybe Robinette wasn’t sure he believed himself. Then he changed when he saw the ploy.
“The police told you,” he said.
“No, the police wouldn’t talk to me. I know because I saw her, too. When I was here I saw her.”
“I don’t care what you think you saw, I want you out of here.”
He started to close the door but Brian put his foot over the threshold and stopped it.
“Her name is Lucy. I saw her, too, and I need to talk to your daughter.”
“Why? She’s been through enough. First she lost her mother, now this. What can you possibly say to her?”
“I can tell her who Lucy is.”
Brian pushed on the door and Robinette moved back without resistance. Brian walked by him and headed to the stairs.
“Where is she?”
“In her room.”
Brian went up the stairs and found all the doors in the upper hallway closed. Robinette called from below.
“The second room on the left.”
Brian went to the door, knocked, and then opened it when he heard someone call, “Come in.” The girl he had seen in the police station was sitting on a bed, her legs folded beneath her, her back against the wall.
“Teresa, right?”
“Who are you? Did my father send for you?”
“No, I just came. I’m the one who opened the safe. I saw the girl that day. She talked to me. She said her name was Lucy.”
Teresa’s eyes widened.
“Then you believe me?”
Brian nodded.
“I believe you. Have you talked to her?”
Teresa nodded.
“What did she tell you?”
“She, um, doesn’t know what is happening. She said she came through the door. That’s all she says about that.”
“What about what happened to her? Does she know?”
“She said there was a pool and she didn’t know how to swim.”
Brian closed his eyes for a moment.
“She’s confused,” Teresa continued. “I said, when did it happen? and she said it didn’t happen yet. She didn’t make sense.”
Brian nodded. It did make sense to him.
“When does she come?” he asked. “When do you see her?”
“I don’t know, anytime. It’s not like there is a schedule. Sometimes I close my eyes and when I open them she’s there.”
“Do you know where she goes when she isn’t here?”
“I think she must go back through the door she talks about.”
“Would that be where she is now?”
“I don’t know. I guess. I don’t see her.”
“Thank you, Teresa.”
Brian turned toward the door.
“Who is she?” Teresa asked.
Brian looked back at her.
“She’s my daughter. She’s coming in a few weeks.”
“You mean she’s not born?”
“Not yet. I think she came through the door to warn me. Now I have to go close the door.”
Robinette was standing in the upper hallway when Brian came out. It was as if he couldn’t venture into his daughter’s room.
“We have to put the door back on the safe,” Brian said. “This all started with the safe.”
“We can’t. The trash was taken yesterday. You put—”
“I have the door. It’s in my van.”
Brian headed to the stairs and started down. As he went, he looked up at Robinette.
“Do you want me to bring it in through the service door?”
Robinette looked at him as if not comprehending the question. Then he spoke in a quiet voice.
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
They were on the back porch of the house. It was a warm night—summer was coming on strong. And Laura with the extra weight and the extra heart beating inside her had to get out of the un-air-conditioned house. They sat side by side in lawn chairs, holding hands. Brian had forgiven her. There were more important things to concentrate on. Besides, he knew the cops could convince anybody of anything. Years back, they had done it to him with his old man, practically had him believing that his father had shot the mark in cold blood.
He had not told her the whole story of his return to the house on Shell Island. He didn’t want to upset her, especially now that it was almost time for the baby. He only told her that he had gone back to see Robinette, to set things right.
“So there might be some money in it,” he said now on the porch. “It could really help us with you taking the extra time off and all.”
“What money? For what?”
Laura sat up straight in her chair. She was excited by the proposition.
“How much will he pay?”
“We didn’t get to that yet. I’m supposed to go back over there tomorrow. I’ll find out then.”
“Those writers make a lot of money.”
She didn’t say anything else. She was leaving it to him but making it clear she expected him to get a good chunk out of Robinette.
“We’ll see what he says,” Brian said, not wanting to promise anything or push anything.
They were quiet for a moment and then she let go of his hand and leaned forward.
“You know what I want to do?” she asked. “With the money, I mean.”
“I don’t know. Keep paying the bills?”
“No, we should get more than just that. I want air-conditioning, Brian. We deserve that. And then we should put in a pool. I want to go swimming at night to cool off.”
Brian stared straight ahead and off the porch into the distance. He realized that the backyard was just big enough for a pool. Without a word he stood up and went back inside.
About the Author
Michael Connelly is the author of the recent #1 New York Times bestsellers The Drop, The Fifth Witness, The Reversal, The Scarecrow, The Brass Verdict, and The Lincoln Lawyer, as well as the bestselling Harry Bosch series of novels. He is a former newspaper reporter who has won numerous awards for his journalism and his novels. He spends his time in California and Florida.
www.michaelconnelly.com
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Make sure to check out The Black Box.
On-sale date: November 26, 2012
Books by Michael Connelly
Featuring Harry Bosch
The Black Echo
The Black Ice
The Concrete Blonde
The Last Coyote
Trunk Music
Angels Flight
A Darkness More Than Night
City of Bones
Lost Light
The Narrows
The Closers
Echo Park
The Overlook
Nine Dragons
The Drop
The Black Box
Featuring Mickey Haller
The Lincoln Lawyer
The Fifth Witness
Featuring Harry Bosch and Mickey Haller
The Brass Verdict
The Reversal
Featuring Jack McEvoy
The Poet
The Scarecrow
Other Novels
Blood Work
Void Moon
Chasing the Dime
Anthologies
Mystery Writers of America Presents The Blue Religion: New Stories about Cops, Criminals, and the Chase (editor)
Nonfiction
Crime Beat: A Decade of Covering Cops and Killers
Short Stories
Suicide Run: Three Harry Bosch Stories (e-book only)
Angle of Investigation: Three Harry Bosch Stories (e-book only)
Mulholland Dive: Three Stories (e-book only)
The Safe Man: A Ghost Story (e-book only)
Contents
Title Page
Welcome
The Safe Man
About the Author
Look for The Black Box
Books by Michael Connelly
Copyright
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2005 by Hieronymus, Inc.
Author photograph by Terrill Lee Lankford
Cover design by Allison Warner
Cover copyright © 2012 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
“The Safe Man,” was originally published anonymously in The Secret Society of Demolition Writers, edited by Marc Parent.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at permissions@hbgusa.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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ISBN 978-0-316-23368-2