The Boy Who Stole From the Dead (5 page)

Ambrose was a good man doing his best in a harsh place. He didn’t deserve to be used, lied to, or given false hope. But that’s exactly what had happened.

Too bad, Lauren thought. Life was a race. She wasn’t delivering a serum or saving humanity and there would never be a statue of her in Central Park, but she had to be first with this story. She had to be first with every story.

Still, when she said good-bye to Ambrose, Lauren saw the spark in his eyes and the bounce in his step, and for that fleeting moment, all the joy seeped out of her.

CHAPTER 6

O
N
T
HURSDAY,
N
ADIA
packed two shopping bags with clothes and books. She took the Q101 bus to Rikers Island. It was located on the East River between Queens and the Bronx near LaGuardia Airport. Visiting hours ran from 1:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m., but people started lining up earlier. Nadia arrived at 12:05 p.m. She was twenty-seventh in line but some of the visitors in front of her were children accompanying a parent. By 12:45 p.m., the line stretched farther than she could see.

A huge young man with a shaved head cut to the front of the line. Two women stuck their fingers in his face and screamed at him in Spanish. The young man shouted back. Their threats grew louder until four security guards emerged from the jail. The guards tackled, cuffed, and dragged him inside, all without saying a word. The crowd cheered. Word spread that he was a recently released felon who’d returned for his personal possessions. Nadia was reminded that she was not in Manhattan anymore, and neither was Bobby.

At 1:35 p.m., Nadia entered the visitor’s center. An efficient guard checked her driver’s license and took down her information.

“You got to be announced,” the guard said.

“Excuse me?” Nadia said.

“The prisoner has got to want to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Prisoners only get one set of visitors per day. If someone they don’t want to see comes in, then they can’t see their families later, is why. Sometimes reporters try to get in. Sometimes enemies. You see it all here. You the boy’s mother?”

“Legal guardian. Can you tell him if he sees me then a young woman by the name of Aline Kabaeva will visit him Sunday?”

The guard frowned. “Who?”

Nadia wrote the name on a piece of paper and gave it to the guard. Aline Kabaeva was a former Olympic gymnastics champion, current lawmaker, and rumored paramour of Vladimir Putin. Nadia had duped a cop into believing she was a reporter interviewing the Russian sex symbol during her escape from Russia on a train with Bobby. She’d been so convincing Bobby had believed her, too, until she admitted she’d made up the story. Nadia hoped Bobby would get a laugh out of the message, and that the memory would remind him of the bond they’d formed to survive that trip.

The guard left and returned five minutes later. “He’s in the infirmary.”

“What happened?” Nadia said.

“I don’t know. You got to go to the hospital at the North Infirmary Command. They’ll tell you.”

“Will I get to speak with him?”

“Depends on if he wants to see you and if he can speak.”

“What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. He’s in the infirmary for a reason.”

Nadia got directions and hurried to an adjacent building. She had to wait an hour and fifteen minutes in line. She spent most of that time fighting images of Bobby being beaten to a pulp. Once inside, she stored her cell phone in a coin locker per regulations. She identified herself to another guard and repeated her request regarding Aline Kabaeva.

An ambivalent guard escorted her to a small room with two chairs and a table. There were no windows in the room. The air smelled of mold. A gaunt man in a white coat came in and introduced himself as Dr. Champion.

“We had to remove him from the general population,” Champion said. “For his own protection.”

Nadia felt faint. “Why? What happened?”

“Does Aagayuk have problems with anxiety?”

“No.”

“Is he prone to panic attacks?”

“No. Why? Did he have one?”

“Actually, he had several. When the lights went out. He had great difficulty making it through his first night. And he didn’t make it through his second night. I’ve prescribed an antidepressant—”

“You gave him an antidepressant? Without my approval?”

“Aagayuk is in the state’s custody now.”

“But common courtesy—”

“It’s my responsibility to keep him functioning properly.”

“It would have been common courtesy to call his guardian, don’t you think?”

“I treat hundreds of prisoners, ma’am. My job is to keep them healthy. Keep them alive. Phone calls to loved ones are just not realistic.”

The notion of Bobby taking an antidepressant wasn’t as disturbing as a doctor at Rikers Island writing the prescription. “What was the catalyst for all this? Did something happen?”

“He had an altercation with some of the other inmates.”

“What kind of altercation?”

“The unfortunate kind. He cost his neighbors a bit of sleep. They made him understand how unhappy they were about that. He’s going to have to go back in one week. Seven days. That’s the prescribed time for the antidepressants to get into his system. That’s the longest I can keep him. His other wounds will certainly be healed by then.”

“What wounds?”

“If the medication works, it will cut off the extremes of his behavior. He won’t get too happy. He won’t get too sad. It’ll neutralize the panic attacks and he’ll be able to sleep at night.”

“What wounds?”

“More importantly, the other inmates will be able to sleep. Maybe they’ll leave him alone. Though I’m told they’ve seen his ears. Half-ears, I should say. With jagged ridges like some sort of genetic mutation. I’ve never seen that type of handicap before.”

Bobby was born with abnormal ears because his mother had suffered from radiation syndrome. “I’d like to see Bobby, please,” Nadia said.

“Who?”

“Bobby. Aagayuk. His Anglo name is Bobby. I’d like to see my boy. Now, please.”

Champion left.

A guard escorted Bobby into the room. Bobby limped. Bruises shone around both eyes. A large bandage covered his forehead.

“Oh my God.” Nadia stood up to hug him.

Bobby raised his hand for her to keep her distance.

Nadia stopped. The sight of his palm in her face wrenched her heart. But she didn’t want him to read her emotions so she erased the disappointment from her eyes. This was no time for sentiment.

Bobby grimaced as he sat down. He wore a gray jumpsuit and orange flip-flops. The guard stood against the wall. Bobby and Nadia spoke in Ukrainian.

“How are you?” Nadia said.

“I told Johnny to tell you not to come. Why didn’t you listen to him?”

“Why would you say something like that? You know I’m going to come no matter what. I asked you a question. How are you?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Why are you acting this way? Why won’t you tell me what really happened that night? It can’t possibly be like you said. A man doesn’t walk up to you and try to stab you for no reason. Not even in New York. Especially not in Manhattan.”

Bobby let a few seconds pass. “Do you remember what you said to me when I opened the locket?”

After evading mobsters and government agents halfway around the world, Bobby had opened the locket to reveal its treasure. “No more lies,” Nadia said.

“That’s right. No more lies. And I haven’t lied to you since.”

“You’re saying you killed that man in self defense. He came at you with a knife first.”

“Yes.”

“And you never saw him before that night.”

Bobby didn’t answer.

“He had no reason to want to kill you.”

He remained mute.

“You didn’t expect to see him that night. This wasn’t a planned confrontation. Was it?”

Bobby looked at her with the same dead eyes he’d shown her in the courtroom.

“Why were you wearing only one shoe when you turned yourself in? It was a basketball shoe. It couldn’t have slipped off or been pulled off. You had to unlace it for it to come off. Where is your left shoe? Why did you take it off?”

Bobby turned his head away.

“Are you going to answer me? You know, I’m sitting here worried to death either someone’s going to kill you here or they’re going to convict you of murder, but if you keep acting so rudely to me I’m going to come across this table and smack you.” She had no intention of actually hitting him. Since straight talk wasn’t working, she was hoping to provoke a reaction.

Bobby sat still looking as though he was calculating something. Then he leaned across the table. “You want the truth?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, here’s the truth. I don’t like you. I never really liked you from the minute I first met you. You think you’re smarter than everyone else. And you don’t know how to have fun. That’s why no one wants to be around you. The only friend you have is Johnny and that’s only because you pay him. You’ll never get married. You’re going to die alone.”

His words stung. They brought tears to her eyes. She’d risked her life to bring him to America. She spent every penny she had to feed him, shelter him, and send him to prep school. And yet, she didn’t believe a word he was saying. He knew her vulnerabilities. He knew where to hit. For some reason he was trying to push her away.

Nadia leveled her chin at him.

“There are two bags outside for you. There’s a coat, sneakers, and four sets of underwear, socks, shirts, and pants in one bag. There’s six pencils, two notebooks, all the Harry Potter books, and four hockey magazines in the other. Everything is permitted. I checked. One of the hockey magazines is old. There’s a hole in one of the pages inside. That sound familiar?”

Bobby blinked. It was the magazine he’d brought from Ukraine. It had special sentimental value.

“Good,” Nadia said. “Nice to see you’re still human.”

“No, I’m not still human. I’m a machine. I’ve left your world. You mean nothing to me. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Bobby stood up. The guard opened the door. They disappeared down a corridor. A second guard came by and escorted Nadia out of the infirmary.

Nadia walked outside, waited for the bus, and boarded it. When it crossed the bridge off Rikers Island, she looked back at the jail.

Bobby was emphatic he hadn’t lied to her. When he’d made that point, she’d looked into his eyes and seen truth. Nadia believed him. The kid had a sense of honor. He said he’d never lie to her, and he was determined to live up to that promise. When Nadia asked him if he’d ever seen Valentine before Tuesday night, Bobby didn’t answer. When she asked if Valentine had a reason to want him dead, he remained quiet. Same as when she asked if he’d expected to see Valentine that night. Bobby refused to answer those three questions because he didn’t want to lie. By Nadia’s logic, her conclusion was unimaginable yet necessarily true.

Bobby and Valentine had known each other. Valentine had a motive for killing Bobby.

And they’d met Tuesday night knowing one of them might kill the other.

CHAPTER 7

F
OR SEVEN YEARS
Nadia walked home from work along Madison Avenue and dreamed of owning a townhouse on one of the side streets of the Upper East Side. They defined charm, privacy, and success. The fantasy fueled her fourteen-hour days at the Monroe private equity firm. After she was fired last year, however, she avoided Madison altogether. But when she started her own business and landed her first two clients, she returned. Now, on the verge of stepping inside one of them for the first time, owning them once again seemed like nothing more than a fantasy.

The townhouse belonged to Trent and Meredith Mace. Nadia cheered with them during Fordham Prep hockey games. They’d gone out to dinner together after a couple of games.

Meredith opened the door, invited her in, and gave her a huge hug. She guided Nadia to a sitting room beyond the foyer. A glossy Old Masters portrait of a mother and her two sons hung on the wall. The boys sat at their mother’s feet.

“How is he?” Meredith said.