Ground Zero Part 16
"You don't look like her."
"Doesn't change the fact. Who are you and why are you sneaking around her house?"
"I'm ... Ted-"
Jack flipped him around and held him face-first against the door while he removed his wallet.
"Hey!"
"Shut up."
"Jack," Eddie said, "is this really-?"
"If his name is Ted, I'll eat his wallet."
Jack pulled out some credit cards and a driver's license. They all read Kevin Harris Kevin Harris. Jack handed them to Eddie and released the guy.
"Okay, Kevin Harris, what's up?"
He blinked. "What?"
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"
He looked at Eddie. "Are you really her brother?"
Jack shoved him back against the door. "G.o.d d.a.m.n d.a.m.n it!" it!"
"All right, all right! I ... I'm a friend of hers. We've been working together."
"On what?"
"It's private-proprietary."
Jack took a stab. "You mean the nine/eleven thing? She told us all about it."
Harris's eyes widened. "No! She wouldn't! She'd never-"
"Oh, but she did," Eddie said, getting on board-finally. "I'm her brother. She trusts me."
"I don't believe you. Why would she endanger her brother and not me?"
Good question, Jack thought.
"From the looks of you," he said, "I think she feels we can handle the risk a little better."
Harris didn't look happy to hear that, but made no objection. Just stood there chewing his upper lip.
Jack watched him, trying to get a feel for him. He looked like a nerd, but that could be an act. If so, he was the Edward Norton of his organization. He'd been genuinely frightened when Jack pulled him inside.
"Open your backpack," Jack said.
"Why?"
Jack gave him his coldest stare. "Look, either you do it or I do it, but it winds up open."
With a sullen expression Harris shrugged out of it and unzipped the large compartment. He pulled out a thick, oversize paperback-a dog-eared copy of The 9/11 Commission Report The 9/11 Commission Report. What a shock. Jack flipped through it and saw either yellow highlighter or underlining or margin notes on almost every page.
Good chance he was for real. And if so, telling him about Weezy's accident might loosen his tongue. If he was connected to the tail, he'd already know about it, so no harm done.
The rest of the backpack held half a bottle of Poland Spring water, a couple of peanut chocolate chip Soyjoy bars-"fortified with optimism"-along with paper clips, an array of pens and highlighters, and a thick manila folder. Jack pulled it out and was starting to open it when Harris s.n.a.t.c.hed it away.
"Hey, that's private!"
"Between you and Wee-I mean Louise?"
"d.a.m.n right. And if she told you all about it, like you said, then what's in here won't be news to you."
The guy had a little fire in him.
Jack decided to let it ride and give Harris an apparent victory. He could take the folder any time he wanted.
"Actually, she didn't tell us everything."
Harris pumped a fist. "Knew it!"
Watching him closely, Jack said, "That's because she was run down by a car before we could get the whole story."
He turned a sickly white and sagged back against the door. "Oh, no! They did did get her!" get her!"
No way Harris was faking that. He hadn't known.
"She's not ... tell me she's not ..."
Another point for Harris-that would be the first thing a real friend would want to know.
"She's alive but in a coma," Eddie said.
Harris's eyes narrowed. "How do I know that?"
Well ... probably time to get back to the hospital anyway.
"Time for show-and-tell. We'll take you to her."
18.
"It's her," Harris said, standing at Weezy's bedside and staring down at her. "It's really her."
His devastated expression convinced Jack that he was the real deal. The question now would be: Would he believe Jack and Eddie were the real deal?
The guy had already turned out to be a royal pain in the a.s.s ...
First, back at the house, he'd started questioning the accident and if there'd really been one. Jack had shown him the police report but that hadn't convinced him because it was all about a Jane Doe.
Harris had wanted to take the subway-more public. Jack hadn't-too public. Before getting into the cab Harris had demanded some ID from Eddie and had questioned why he and "Louise" had different names. Eddie had patiently explained that she hadn't changed back to her maiden name since her husband's death.
Harris had reluctantly accepted that as a possibility. Then he'd asked Jack for ID.
Like, yeah, he was going to see something. In his dreams.
Jack had pushed Harris into the cab and he was a twitchfest the whole trip, asking the driver over and over if he was really a cabby and if he was really taking them to Mount Sinai Hospital.
But now ... seeing was believing.
"Is she ever going to wake up?" he said, his face full of angst as he turned to them.
"The doctor's not sure," Jack said quickly, before Eddie could speak. "It's touch and go. She might enter a persistent vegetative state."
This earned a questioning look from Eddie that Jack ignored. He'd pulled the term out of his store of unwanted coma lore.
"Like that lady in Florida?" Harris said.
Jack nodded. "Exactly. Terry Schiavo all over again." He hoped Eddie would stay clammed.
Harris turned back to the bed and stepped closer to Weezy. He shook her shoulder as he leaned over her. He spoke in a low voice but Jack caught the words.
"Wake up, Louise. You've got to wake up. I think I've found him. I think I know who he is."
"Found who?" Jack said.
Harris jumped and turned. "Nothing. A private matter." He suddenly looked scared. "I don't care what the report says, I'll bet this wasn't an accident. They found her and got to her. They've finally silenced her."
"We can't let that happen," Jack said, flicking a glance at Eddie. "She mustn't be silenced. I think she knew they were closing in, and that's why she came to her brother here. To continue her quest for the truth."
Eddie cleared his throat. "Yes. I, um, run a small security firm-"
Harris stiffened. "Securities?"
Jack wondered why that word would cause a reaction.
"No," Eddy said. "Security-as in building security. You know, hospitals and such." He nodded toward Jack. "This is one of my employees."
Swell. Now I'm working for Eddie.
Jack said, "Yeah. She told us she thought she might need some protection."
Harris snorted and looked back at the bed. "Some protection."
"She was just bringing us up to speed," Jack said. "She was worried about endangering her brother, so she was very stingy with her information."
Harris nodded, a little more enthusiastic now. "Oh, yeah. That was Louise, all right."
"You said it." Jack looked at Eddie. "Like pulling teeth, right, boss?"
Eddie turned away. It looked like he might be fighting tears but Jack was sure he was fighting off a smile from the "boss" line. When he turned back he was composed.
"Sorry. This is very hard."
Jack said, "Let me be blunt here: I'm thinking that she thought someone wanted her dead. Am I right?"
Harris nodded. "Permanently silenced, yeah."
Jack pressed his case. "Well, it's not permanent, not as long as she's breathing and has a chance to come out of this coma. So that means someone might try again. We can't protect her very well if we don't know who we're protecting her from. That's where you come in."
"Me?"
Jack was already winging it, so he decided to push it a little further.
"She told us about someone special, someone close to her that she trusted, but she wouldn't give us a name." Jack narrowed his eyelids and fixed a B-movie stare on Harris. "I've got a feeling that trusted guy is you."
He nodded. "Well, I was-I mean, I am."
"Then you need to fill in the blank s.p.a.ces she left us-for her sake."
"I don't know ..."
Eddie said, "I told you: I can't protect my sister if-"
"-if you don't know who to protect her from. Right-right-right. But you need to know that she didn't tell me much. Only just enough to help her find what she was looking for."
"We'll take whatever you can give," Jack said.
He chewed his lip. "Okay. Is there someplace private we can talk? You know, where we can't be overheard?"
Jack thought about that. Julio's was out-didn't want anyone tailing him there. Then he remembered that they were right across the street from Central Park.
"How about down by the reservoir? We can find an isolated spot in the open where no one's in earshot and-"
Harris made a face. "Ever hear of a parabolic microphone? Someone could be listening in from a hundred yards away. We'd be better off in a bar or a restaurant." He glanced at his watch. "It's way before the dinner crowd. We should have no problem finding an isolated table in a midscale place."
Jack couldn't argue with that. He'd always linked paranoia to longevity, though Harris was taking it a bit far.
"Okay. Let's do it."