Cold Vengeance - Lincoln Child [140]
His fears of the Covenant receded somewhat. They knew Helen was alive now, and they were very powerful, but in Pendergast he had found his own powerful ally. Now all would be well.
A dozen yards off, the last yachtsman had removed his model boat from the water and was taking it apart and putting the pieces into an aluminum case lined with foam cutouts. Esterhazy watched as Pendergast and Helen strolled along the verge of the pond. He felt, for the first time in his entire life, an immeasurable sense of relief—that finally he was finding his way out of the maze of evil in which he had been entangled since his earliest childhood memories. It had all happened so suddenly he could barely believe it. He almost felt reborn.
And yet, despite the bucolic scene, Esterhazy still couldn’t rid himself of that old, eternal sense of apprehension. He couldn’t say why—there was absolutely no cause for concern. There was no way the Covenant could have learned of their meeting spot. No doubt his unease was merely habit.
Now he began strolling behind the two, hanging back, allowing them a few moments of privacy. The Dakota was a short walk across the park, along well-frequented paths. But for now… Their murmured voices drifted back to him as they slowly made a circuit around the small pond.
As they approached the boathouse again, Pendergast reached into the pocket of his jacket. He drew a ring from his pocket: a gold ring, set with a large star sapphire. “Do you recognize this?” he asked.
A flush came over her features. “I never thought I’d see it again.”
“And I never thought I’d get the chance to replace it on your finger. Until Judson told me you were still alive. I knew, I knew, he was telling the truth—even when nobody else believed me.” He reached for her left hand, his limbs still trembling slightly, preparing to place it on her ring finger.
But as he lifted her arm, he paused. The hand was gone. Only a stump remained, a jagged scar running across its end.
“But why your hand? I thought your sister…”
“The whole thing went awry. It was a horrific disaster, too complicated to explain now.”
He looked back up at her. “Helen,” he said. “Why did you go along with this murderous scheme? Why did you conceal things from me—the Black Frame, Audubon, the Doane family, everything else? Why haven’t you—”
She lowered her arm. “Let’s please not talk about that. Not now. Later—we’ll have plenty of time later.”
“But Emma, your twin sister—did you know she’d be sacrificed?”
Her face turned very pale. “I only learned… afterward.”
“But you never contacted me, ever. How can I—”
She stayed him with her good hand. “Aloysius, stop. There were reasons for everything. It’s a terrible story, a terrible story. I will tell it to you, all of it. But this is not the time or place. Now, please—let’s leave.” She tried to smile, but her face was white.
She raised her other hand and wordlessly he slipped the ring onto the ring finger. As he did so, he glanced past her at the sylvan scene. Nothing had changed. Two distant joggers were approaching from the direction of the reservoir. A small child was crying, having gotten entangled in the leash of an excited Yorkshire terrier. The violinist was still sawing away industriously.
His glance fell on the last remaining yachtsman, packing up his boat, still clumsily trying to fit the pieces into his case. His hands were shaking, and despite the chill air Pendergast noticed a sheen of perspiration on his forehead.
A split second elapsed in which a dozen thoughts passed through Pendergast’s brain—speculation, realization, decision.
Keeping his movements unhurried and calm, he turned toward Esterhazy and made a casual gesture for him to join them.
“Judson,” he murmured. “Take Helen and get her away from here. Do it calmly but quickly.”
Helen looked at him in confusion. “Aloysius, what—”
Pendergast silenced her with a little shake of his head. “Take her to the Dakota—I’ll meet up with you there. Please go. Now.”
As they began to move away, Pendergast glanced toward