Jesse nodded and continued to look at Marino. Was it possible that a jerk like this kid could grow into a decent man? Would the rape follow him and the other two, the way it was following Candace? Marino realized Jesse was looking at him.

“What?” he said.

Jesse didn’t answer.

“What are you looking at me for?” Marino said.

Jesse didn’t seem to hear him.

You could protect, Jesse thought, and you could serve. But you couldn’t really save.

Marino looked at Molly.

“How come he’s staring at me like

that?” he said.

“Just get the floor clean,” Molly said.

At least keep the floor clean, Jesse thought. He went into his office and closed the door. Better than nothing.

71

Molly and Suit came into Jesse’s office together.

They looked

pleased with themselves.

“The seven hundred and twenty-eighth name on the patent list is

Arlington Lamont,” Molly said. “The patent was filed from San

Mateo, California, wherever that is.”

“Up by San Francisco,” Jesse said. He sat motionless with the

palms of his hands pressed together in front of him, his chin resting on the fingertips.

“And,” Suit said, “on the day of

the murder, Arlington Lamont

rented a Volvo Cross Country Wagon from Hertz at the airport.”

With the palms still pressed, Jesse lowered his hands and pointed his fingers at Suit and dropped his thumbs like the hammer on a gun.

“Bada bing,” he said.

They were all quiet.

“So maybe Lincoln is the phony ID,” Jesse said. “And Lamont is

the real one.”

“Same initials,” Molly said.

“Anthony Lincoln, Arlington

Lamont.”

Jesse nodded.

“Hertz requires driver’s license and credit card,” Jesse

said.

“Mass driver’s license,” Suit

said. “American Express

card.”

“How long?” Jesse said.

“They rented it to him for a week.”

“Returning it where?”

“Toronto airport,” Suit said.

“You think they’re actually going

to return it?”

“Attract less attention than if they dumped it,” Jesse said.

“They don’t expect us to have their name.”

“The credit card number will help us track them,” Molly said.

“You want me to hop on the phone and see what I can do?”

“No,” Jesse said.

“I’ll let Healy do that. They’ve got more resources and more clout than we have.”

“You think they’re going to settle in Canada?”

“Maybe, or maybe it’s just a big city with a big airport. Molly,

find out how many airlines fly out of Toronto and call all of them and see if any of them have reservations for Mr. and Mrs. Arlington Lamont.”

“Every airline?” Molly said.

“That’s a lot of time to be on

hold.”

“And keep checking with Hertz,” Jesse said. “To see if the car

got returned anywhere.”

“We could ask them to call us when the car showed up.”

Jesse looked at her without speaking.

“Or not,” Molly said.

“Call them every day,” Jesse said.

“Give you something to do

while you’re on hold with the airlines.”

“If I time it right,” Molly said,

“I can be on hold with both at

the same time.”

“Lucky we have two lines,” Jesse said.

“Suit, you call the San

Mateo cops, see if you can find anything at all about Mr. or Mrs.

Arlington Lamont. If they can’t give you anything try San Francisco.”

“While we’re doing all this

phoning,” Suit said, “what are you

going to do?”

“I have several donuts to eat,” Jesse said.

72

“How’s the

drinking?” Dixsaid.

“I haven’t had a drink in three weeks and four days,” Jesse

said.

Dix smiled. “And there are several minutes every day when you

don’t miss it.”

“Not that many,” Jesse said.

“And you recently escaped death,” Dix said.

“I did. Anthony deAngelo didn’t.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I should have had more cops on the

scene,” Jesse

said.

“Tell me about that,” Dix said.

“I could have had state police support. I chose not to. I wanted

to do it ourselves.”

“Because they had done their crimes in your town?”

“Because they had killed Abby Taylor.”

Dix nodded.

“I took it personally,” Jesse said.

“You’re a person,” Dix said.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning it is impossible not to take things, at some level,

personally.”

“So what about professional?” Jesse said.

“Things exist simultaneously,” Dix said.

“Meaning I can take it personally and be professional?”

“Meaning you need to be two contradictory things at the same

time.”

Jesse sat quietly.

Then he said, “You know about that.”

“Of course.”

“It’s what you have to deal

with.”

“What do you think all the rigmarole of psychotherapy is

about.”

“You have to care about your patient,”

Jesse said. “But you

can’t let the caring interfere with your treatment.”

Dix made a movement with his head that might have been a nod.

Jesse was quiet again.

“You know the kid that got raped?” he said after a

while.

Dix did the head movement again.

“She’s gone. The family put the house up for sale and moved

away.”

“Do you know why they moved?” Dix said.

“I assume it was too tough on her in school. You know what kids

are like.”

Dix smiled faintly and waited.

“I couldn’t save her,” Jesse

said.

“Why would you think you could? You did what you are able to do.

You caught her rapists and brought them to justice.”

“Yeah. A few months swabbing floors after school in the police

station.”

“That’s the justice that was

available,” Dix said. “You couldn’t

prevent her rape. You can’t prevent her peers from alluding to

it.”

Jesse looked past Dix out the window. It was a fresh bright day,

intensified by the new snow.

“It seems to me that nobody can protect anybody.”

“Risk can be reduced,” Dix said.

“But not eliminated.”

Dix was quiet, waiting. Jesse said nothing, still looking out the window.

“There’s a point,” Dix said

after a while, “where security and

freedom begin to clash.”

At midday the sun was strong enough to melt the snow where it lay on dark surfaces. The tree limbs had begun to drip. Jesse turned his gaze back onto Dix.

“You’re not just talking about police work,” Jesse

said.

Dix tilted his head a little and said nothing. The rigmarole

of psychotherapy.

“People need to live the life they want to live,” Jesse said.

“They can’t live it the way somebody else wants them

to.”

Dix smiled and raised his eyebrows.

“Everybody knows that,” Jesse said.

Dix nodded.

“And few people actually believe it,”

Jesse said.

“There’s often a gap between what we know and what we do,” Dix

said.

“Let me write that down,” Jesse said.

“Psychotherapy is not snake dancing,” Dix said. “Mainly it’s

just trying to close the gap.”

Jesse’s lungs seemed to expand and take in deeper breaths of

air.

“Jenn,” he said.

Dix looked noncommittal.

73

When Jesse came into the station Molly was making coffee.

“Hertz says the Volvo got turned in at the Toronto airport,” she

said.

“Nice to know we can trust them,” Jesse said.

Molly poured water into the green Mr. Coffee machine.

“And,” Molly said, “nobody who

flies out of Toronto has any

reservations for Arlington Lamont.”