“He woke up for a moment.”
Cabot looked at me.
“Before they put him back under,” I said, “he asked for a pen. He wrote one word on the inside of a chart.”
“Bad?”
“It was your name.”
He was still, and then he looked past me toward the shuttered window. Reed was still at the door, pretending he wasn’t listening.
“He had two seconds of consciousness,” Cabot said. “Maybe less, and he chose my name.”
Cabot gripped the back of the chair.
“He could have written it because he thinks I did this, or because someone wants you to think I did. Maybe he was trying to warn me. Or I might be what they’re going to use next.” His voice remained calm as he looked at me. “Which one is it?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“He’s been an editor for thirty-one years,” Cabot said. “He knows not to waste words, and he didn’t waste that one.”
The radiator in the corner kicked on. Reed shifted his weight at the door, almost imperceptibly.
I left Cabot for a moment and went to the door to give Reed instructions.
“Front door stays hard-locked. You don’t open it for anyone who isn’t on the cleared list and isn’t using the knock. That means no couriers and no neighbors. Not a Cambridge PD detective with a badge held up to the peephole. If they’re not on the list, they wait on the stoop and we call Eamon.”
“Understood.”
“You check the peephole every five minutes. If you see the same person twice in fifteen minutes , you tell me before you finish the thought.”
I returned to the parlor. Cabot was on the couch.
“I want to go to Mt. Auburn,” he said.
“No.”
“He’s my editor. I’ve worked with him for nine years. He’s lying in a bed because of a meeting he asked for to talk about my work. I’d like to be in the building.”
“I understand.”
“Then —“
“The answer is still no.”
“Tell me why,” he said. “Cleanly. So I can argue with the right thing.”
“The shooter only used two rounds, and he had a motorcycle ready for the getaway. That’s the work of a professional. He knew the meeting time and the route Patterson would take. He knew Eamon would be in the lobby and Wiley would be at the elevator.”
Cabot exhaled. “He could die before I see him.”
“He could. I’m sorry.”
His jaw worked once. He looked down at his hands. “Alright.”
“I’ll get you to him when I can.”
“Alright, Dane.”