Genti stepped onto the street and looked for the white van but couldn’t spot it. He called Prek, who told him he was down beyond the Neurological Institute where he’d been able to snag a great parking place between the medical school and the dorm just beyond where 168th Street turns into Haven Avenue.

Genti walked west and soon saw the van. He got in and related how he’d just missed her in the elevator and then missed her a second time, as she was getting on the subway car. He said he was so close it was frustrating.

“It’s not the worst thing,” Prek said, echoing Genti’s earlier thoughts. “This is the perfect spot right here. Hopefully, if we’re lucky, when she shows up it will be with the boyfriend, and we’ll be waiting. I’m thinking we need to get them together.”

“How will we know which one he is?” Genti said. “I bet she has a lot of boyfriends.”

As if Aleksander Buda were reading their minds, Prek’s cell phone buzzed. It was an e-mail from Buda with an attachment. When Prek opened the JPEG he found himself staring at George’s medical school admission photo listing his height and weight.

“He’s six-one, one-ninety, with blond hair,” said Prek. “Taller than most. We shouldn’t have too much trouble picking him out.”

“Perhaps he’ll come by on his own,” Genti said.

“No, my sense is they’ll be together since they seem to be spending a lot of time together recently. I know I would if I was him. I imagine they’ll meet up when she comes back from wherever she’s going.”

Chapter 48.

48.

CORNER OF FIRST AVENUE AND THIRTIETH STREET
NEW YORK CITY
MARCH 25, 2011, 4:40 P.M.

As the last of the daylight threatened to fade away completely thanks to the low clouds and rain, Pia paused outside the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, gazing at the front of the half-century-old building. It wasn’t inviting in the least, with its weird façade of blue glazed tiles that reminded her of the Ishtar Gate of ancient Babylon. She’d seen pictures of the latter in an almost equally ancient Encyclopœdia Britannica at the academy. She glanced at the tile and then at the outdated 1960s-style aluminum-framed windows. World-class ugly.