Aleksander Buda had called to check in at five o’clock, and Prek had to explain that they had spotted the girl but lost her in the subway. When Buda exploded with a string of choice expletives in Albanian questioning the virtue of Prek’s mother and parentage, Prek had held the phone away from his ear and even blushed slightly. Neri, who could hear Buda clearly even though he was sitting on a milk crate in the back of the van, let out a chuckle before he could stop himself, earning a scowl from Prek. As soon as Buda’s volcano subsided, Prek held the phone to his ear again.

“Was she carrying anything, like an overnight bag?”

“No. Just a shopping bag and an umbrella. I’m sure she’s coming back.”

“She better be.... What about the guy?”

“No sign of him yet. He may be in class or whatever it is medical students do. They’re just getting out now, streaming by the van. Of course he could be in his dorm room having passed by before we got here. But from watching her like we did, I’m sure they’ll meet up. And we’ll be here.”

“Don’t fuck this up,” Buda said, and ended the call.

Prek looked around the floor of the van by his feet and picked up one of the empty Red Bull cans he’d dropped there and hurled it into the back of the van in the direction of Neri.

“You ass, you think this is funny? Get the dry hospital security uniform on. You’re going back out for a walk.”

The command-performance radiology lecture George Wilson had made a point of attending had finally finished. Unfortunately it hadn’t been great. The speaker had a soporific voice, and George and the rest of the attendees had had a difficult time staying awake. Late lectures were a problem in that regard for most people, especially when the lights dimmed for the de rigueur slides. Halfway through the talk, George’s mind had wandered to what Pia was finding downtown and whether or not she was safe and keeping out of trouble. George knew that if she caused trouble and the OCME called Bourse to complain, it would probably be the end of Pia’s medical school days, at least at Columbia. As the lecturer had droned on, George found himself wishing he’d gone with her.

George got his stuff together and exited the lecture hall. He certainly hadn’t learned anything. Reaching the street, he donned his coat and turned up the collar. It wasn’t raining so much as drizzling. He had a knot in his stomach from worrying about Pia. He was worried that he’d allowed her to go on her own and wondered when he’d hear from her.