“Listen, Langdon,” I said, and rubbed my forehead. My headache was getting worse. “I think we need to get to Jimmy’s apartment. Like, now.”

“Why?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s something there we need.”

“What? Something that will tell us where he is?”

“No,” I said. “But it’s something that might convince someone else to tell us where he is.”

Chapter Seven

“What’s wrong with you?” Langdon asked. We were on our way to the Alberts’ apartment. She was driving. I was in no condition to be navigating roads.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean you’ve said maybe six words since I picked you up. You’ve got a thousand-yard stare going on. I don’t know whether to be concerned for you or drop you off at an emergency room for observation.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not a good liar.”

“It’s just been a long day.”

“It’s been a long day for me, too. I just wasted a couple of hours of it following cell phone records that didn’t tell me anything, a fact which you apparently knew would happen but didn’t bother to tell me about, so thank you very much for that.”

“Sorry.”

“What I’m saying is that even if you don’t want to tell me what’s going on in your head, I think you owe me. For wasting my time.”

“Fine. I was murdered.”

Langdon jerked the car off the road and slapped on her hazard lights.

“You were what?”

“I was murdered, all right? I was shoved down a fucking elevator shaft.”

Langdon processed this for several seconds. Then, “Why an elevator shaft?”

“Because if I didn’t survive it would look like a suicide. I mean, clearly, Langdon. Where have you been all day?”

“Who did this this to you?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Yes you can. You can tell me. You can tell me right now.”

“I can’t,” I said. “I made a deal.”

“You made a deal with people who shoved you down a goddamned elevator shaft.”

“Yeah.”

“Contracts expire at death, Valdez.”

“Not this one.”

“You need to tell me who did this.”

“No.”

“We’re partners.”

“We’re not partners. I’m a consultant. And if you recall, I didn’t fucking want to be part of this investigation in the first place. Because I figured it might be trouble. And I was right, because someone just threw me down forty-three fucking stories.”

“Sorry.”

“Actually, I think it was more like forty-five, because I’m pretty sure the building had fucking subbasements.”

“You’re yelling.”

“Of course I’m yelling! I’m fucking pissed off! I fucking died today!”

“Yes, you did. But you came back. So come on back, Tony.” Langdon put her hand on my shoulder.