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"Sure. I guess I am."
"That man who just went inside. Do you know who he is?"
"Berger, I think. He's a doctor."
"Did he say where he was from?"
"No."
Taylor looked up at Rhyme's bedroom window for a moment. He asked, "You know the Lethe Society?"
"No, oh, wait . . . It's a euthanasia group, right?"
Taylor nodded. "I know all of Lincoln's doctors. And I've never heard of Berger. I was just thinking maybe he's with them."
"What?"
Is he still talking to them . . .
So that's what the conversation was about.
She felt weightless from the shock. "Has he . . . has he talked seriously about this before?"
"Oh, yes." Taylor sighed, gazed into the smoky night sky. "Oh, yes." Then glanced at her name badge. "Officer Sachs, I've spent hours trying to talk him out of it. Days. But I've also worked with quads for years and I know how stubborn they are. Maybe he'd listen to you. Just a few words. I was thinking . . . Could you?--"
"Oh, goddamn it, Rhyme," she muttered and started down the sidewalk at a run, leaving the doctor in midsentence.
She got to the front door of the townhouse just as Thom was closing it. She pushed past him. "Forgot my watchbook."
"Your?--"
"Be right back."
"You can't go up there. He's with his doctor."
"I'll just be a second."
She was at the landing before Thom started after her.
He must have known it was a scam because he took the stairs two at a time. But she had a good lead and had shoved open Rhyme's door before the aide got to the top of the stairs.
She pushed in, startling both Rhyme and the doctor, who was leaning against the table, arms crossed. She closed the door and locked it. Thom began pounding. Berger turned toward her with a frown of curiosity on his face.
"Sachs," Rhyme blurted.
"I have to talk to you."
"What about?"
"About you."
"Later."
"How much later, Rhyme?" she asked sarcastically. "Tomorrow? Next week?"
"What do you mean?"
"You want me to schedule a meeting for, maybe, a week from Wednesday? Will you be able to make i
