The Hunter’s Oath Page 3

  ‘We’ll make it through,’ she’d kept whispering into his ear, holding him close. ‘You and me. Just the two of us. Looking out for each other. We’ll be just fine. You believe me?’

  ‘I believe you, Amy,’ he’d whispered back.

  And until she’d left for college at eighteen, Amy had stayed true to her word. Dad’s folks, Tom and Annabel, had opted to act as guardians to the two of them, but it became clear early on that they were more interested in the house than in their grandchildren. They’d always been aloof, though, even towards their own son. So instead, Amy had done her best to act as surrogate mother to Bishop for the next eighteen months. She’d done a good job, too, forgoing any kind of social life to take care of her little brother. With just themselves to rely on, they both grew up quickly in a very short space of time. Bishop especially.

  He stared at Amy’s closed eyelids and wondered what was going on in there. Could she hear anything? He knew it was the last sense to go when a person lost consciousness. And he also recalled reading something in Scientific American about studies done on patients who’d recovered from comas. Many of them had said that they’d heard and understood many of the conversations around them while in their comatose state. Maybe Amy was in there right now, fully aware that somebody was in the room with her.

  So Bishop talked to her.

  ‘Amy, it’s Bish,’ he said. ‘The kids are outside. Gerry, too. They’ll be in later, but for now it’s just you and me. Like it was back when we were kids, right after Mom and Dad’s accident. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m hoping some part of you can. And I swear to you I’ll track down the men responsible for this, Amy. Not a moment goes by when I don’t see images of you at the mercy of those bastards. Not one moment. And there’s only one way I know of to make those images go away.’

  Amy just breathed in, then breathed out again. No other response. No movement but the rise and fall of her chest. Bishop raised his head to the window and studied the clouds outside. ‘I’m pretty sure if you could talk you’d tell me to let the cops handle it. But you also know I can’t do that. To them you’re just another statistic. And even if by some miracle they found the scum who did this, the bastards would only get some smart lawyers and plea-bargain their cases down to nothing. Either that or they’d get off on a technicality. That’s how it usually works.’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘I know we’ve always looked out for each other, and that won’t stop. I’ll make sure Pat and Lisa are okay while you’re in here. I’ll even try and get along with . . .’

  He stopped and turned at the sound of the door opening to his left. A young nurse stood there with an armful of towels, her brow furrowed.

  ‘What are you doing in here?’ she said.

  ‘Just talking to my sister,’ Bishop said. He released Amy’s hand, slowly stood, and placed the chair back against the wall.

  Her face relaxed a little. ‘Well, visitors aren’t allowed in here right now. The doctor should have told you.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Bishop said, and moved past her. ‘I already said what I needed to anyway.’

  FIVE

  When Bishop re-entered the waiting room, he saw Gerry in a corner talking to a man in a nondescript grey suit. Bishop could always tell a cop, even from a mile away. As usual, Lisa spotted Bishop before anyone else. She had a kind of sixth sense about things like that. She turned away quickly when he met her eye, so he went over and sat next to her.

  ‘Still hate me?’ he asked.

  Lisa shrugged.

  ‘Because I don’t think I could handle it if you did.’

  She turned to him with one side of her mouth turned up. ‘You mean you actually care what I think?’

  ‘Of course I do. And what you said before really hit home. I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you guys more often. I really am. I accept all blame. It’s my fault completely.’

  She looked at him for a while, then shrugged and turned to look at her dad again.

  ‘That the same policeman as before?’ he asked.

  Lisa nodded.

  He looked down at the still sleeping Pat. ‘How’s the little guy taking this so far?’

  Lisa smoothed Pat’s hair, just the way Amy did. He didn’t think she was going to answer, but finally she said, ‘Don’t think it’s sunk in yet. He’s only eight. He probably thought it was a bad dream or something. But I’m not looking forward to when he wakes up.’ She turned back to Bishop, and her expression told him she had a question for him. But she needed a prod.

  ‘Go ahead,’ he said. ‘Ask.’

  She paused. ‘What you said before. You really think Mom’ll wake up?’

  ‘You already know the answer to that, Lisa. And I wasn’t lying when I said she’s tougher than me. I even remember a conversation one time where I told her she should have signed up instead of me.’

  ‘What, you mean like in the Marines?’

  ‘Uh huh. Know what she said?’

  Lisa shook her head.

  ‘Her exact words were, “Who needs the Marines? Try giving birth. That’ll make a man of anyone.”’

  Lisa’s lips parted in a faint smile. ‘Yeah, that sounds like Mom all right.’

  Bishop smiled too. He still had a way to go before they were friends again, but Lisa’s glacial exterior was melting a little. Which was as much progress as he could hope for right now. He turned and saw the cop looking over at him. ‘Lisa, can you do me a favour?’

  ‘Depends. What?’

  ‘I’m going over to talk to that policeman. I’ll have my back to you, but I’d like you to keep your eyes on me at all times, okay? And if you see me scratch my left shoulder, I want you to call out to your dad. Just say you need to go to the bathroom or something and can he hold Pat for a while. Can you do that?’

  Lisa raised one eyebrow. ‘I guess. Why?’

  ‘I’ll explain later. Thanks.’

  He gave her a quick smile and walked towards the two men. The cop was half a head taller than Gerry, Bishop guessed about an inch over six foot, the same height as him, or near enough. But around the same age as Gerry, somewhere in the mid-forties. He was thickset with short curly dark hair, a straight line for a mouth and hooded eyes. But Bishop wasn’t fooled. Those kinds of eyes were always watching. Especially on cops.

  Once Bishop was close enough, the cop said, ‘You’re the brother, James Bishop?’

  ‘Right. And you’re Medrano?’

  ‘Detective Medrano. That’s right. I’m currently in charge of the case. I take it Mr Philmore here’s updated you so far?’

  ‘He told me Amy was assaulted by three men.’

  ‘That’s what we figure at the moment. So can you give me any clue as to why Mrs Philmore would be walking around Fort George Hill at that time of night?’

  ‘Can’t help you there,’ Bishop said. ‘I haven’t even seen Amy in over a year.’ Apart from that time a few minutes ago. ‘Why, you think that particular location has got something to do with why she was attacked?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. We’re just gathering information at this point. And you’ve had no other contact with your sister since that time?’

  ‘No.’

  Medrano twisted his lips. ‘Okay. Tell me, does the word “sooker” or “zooker” mean anything to either of you?’

  Bishop noticed the muscles in Gerry’s neck tense as he shook his head, and wondered why that was. ‘Well, I remember there was a famous Croatian soccer player called Davor Suker,’ he said, turning back to Medrano. ‘Nothing else springs to mind. Why?’

  The detective shrugged. ‘It’s just one of the paramedics said Mrs Philmore mumbled something that sounded like it a couple of times before she went into the coma. I thought it might mean something to—’

  ‘Wait a second,’ Bishop interrupted. He looked from Gerry to Medrano. ‘You’re telling me Amy was conscious before she came here? I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Well, I think semi-conscious is probably a better description,’ Me
drano said. ‘The paramedic I talked to said she was in and out for a while there. That she was having real trouble breathing and was coughing and mumbling stuff before she went completely under. “Sooker” was about all he understood, but let’s face it, she could have been saying anything. I just thought it might mean something to you.’

  ‘It does now you’ve given me some context,’ Bishop said. ‘Suka is a Russian word. It means bitch.’ He was aware of a slight, convulsive movement from his brother-in-law and looked at him quickly, but Gerry’s face was expressionless.

  Medrano raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Pretty sure. Google it if you don’t believe me.’

  Lines appeared on Medrano’s forehead. ‘So it’s possible Mrs Philmore could have been replaying the event and just repeating some of what she heard. Which would mean one of her assailants is a Russian speaker. That’s interesting.’

  Bishop agreed. But he was also thinking of his arrangement with Lisa. He wouldn’t get a better chance than right now. ‘Who was it who found her?’ he asked. ‘And when, exactly?’

  ‘Two patrol officers got to the scene first,’ Medrano said, still frowning. Bishop knew cops hated answering questions. That was everyone else’s job. But he pulled a small, ring-bound notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped through until he found the right page.

  ‘The call went out on the wire at eleven thirty-two,’ he said. ‘And they found the victim, Mrs Philmore, at, let’s see . . . eleven thirty-seven. Why?’

  Bishop reached up with his right hand and rubbed his left shoulder. ‘Well, it’s just that Highbridge Park is a pretty large . . .’

  ‘Dad,’ Lisa called out on cue from behind them.

  Gerry snapped his head round at the sound of Lisa’s voice and began walking back to her and Pat. Bishop turned round to look, and as he did so made sure his arm ‘accidentally’ knocked against the notebook Medrano was still holding. It fell from the cop’s hand and landed face down on the floor.

  ‘Hey, sorry about that,’ Bishop said, and quickly crouched down and picked the notebook up. He scanned the writing on the open page for a second and then rose and handed the notebook back to Medrano. ‘I’ve always been clumsy.’

  Medrano was still frowning as he put it back in his pocket. ‘Yeah? Somehow you don’t strike me as the ham-fisted type.’

  ‘Looks can be deceiving,’ Bishop said. Gerry was taking his daughter’s place with Pat as Lisa walked towards the restrooms. Good girl. ‘All I was saying was that Highbridge Park is a pretty large area to cover at night, and the patrolmen got there and found Amy in a matter of minutes. That’s damn fast. Probably helped save her life. I’d sure appreciate it if you could thank them for me.’

  The lines on Medrano’s forehead finally smoothed themselves out and he almost smiled. ‘I could do that next time I see them, sure.’

  ‘So what do you think happened?’

  Medrano moved his shoulders. ‘Most of it’s guesswork at this stage, but I figure the suspects must have either chased Mrs Philmore into the park or dragged her there. From the fresh footprints at the scene, I’d say she was chased. They then beat her, and then . . . the rest happened. At some point she must have had the sense to grab that little alarm of hers and activate it. For a short while, at least. Probably threw it into the trees to give any passer-by a decent chance to hear it. If so, that was some smart thinking on her part. But the alarm could also be what set them off. That would explain the stab wounds.’

  Bishop nodded. ‘So somebody heard the alarm and called 911. Who was it? Some guy out walking his dog?’

  ‘A local resident. That’s all I can say.’

  ‘Fair enough. So what are the chances you’ll find the three men?’

  ‘Hard to tell right now. We were able to take DNA samples from the scene, so with luck positive matching against any future suspects won’t be a problem. And we’ll follow up your suggestion that one of them might have been speaking Russian. But obviously, we’re waiting for Mrs Philmore to regain consciousness so she can give us something more concrete to work with. In the meantime you can be sure we’re doing everything we can.’

  ‘Right,’ Bishop said.

  Medrano reached into his back pocket and pulled out a card. ‘Here. You can contact me on one of these numbers if you think of anything else.’

  ‘Sure,’ Bishop said. The card gave the man’s title as Detective First Grade Joseph Medrano. It also gave his four-digit badge number and the address of the 34th Precinct along with a bunch of phone numbers, including the one for Medrano’s cell. Bishop put it in his pocket and shook hands with the detective, then watched him leave.

  Once Medrano had gone, Bishop went over and sat down next to Gerry. ‘You reacted twice during that conversation,’ he said. ‘First when Medrano mentioned the word suka. Second when I said it could be Russian. Why is that, Gerry?’

  Gerry looked down at his sleeping son and gently rubbed the back of the boy’s neck. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said. ‘If I reacted at all it was because I don’t like my wife being referred to as a bitch. That’s all.’

  Bishop frowned. ‘That’s possible, I guess. But I’m still confused. You and Medrano clearly spoke to the same paramedic, which means whatever the guy told Medrano he would also have told you. Especially as you were paying him for the information. So why didn’t you share it with me at the coffee machine earlier?’

  ‘I guess I didn’t think it was that important at the time.’

  Bishop stared at him. ‘You didn’t think Amy regaining partial consciousness before lapsing into a coma was important? Nor that she might have given a possible lead as to the nationality of her attackers? Seriously?’

  Gerry puffed out his cheeks, clearly getting agitated. ‘Look, the paramedic just told me Amy mumbled some stuff and that she wasn’t exactly coherent at the time, okay? That’s all. He sure didn’t mention this suka thing. That’s a new one on me. What do you want from me, anyway?’

  ‘The truth would be nice.’

  ‘I’ve just told you the truth.’

  ‘Have you? Sure you haven’t left anything out this time?’

  Gerry turned to him with narrowed eyes. ‘Just what are you implying, Bishop?’

  ‘I’m not implying anything,’ Bishop said, hiding his exasperation behind a smile as he got to his feet. Because this was getting him absolutely nowhere. Gerry clearly knew more than he was saying, but Bishop couldn’t force the guy to talk. At least, not without knowing a few more facts. So that was his next task. To get some leads. He could always come back to his brother-in-law later if necessary.

  Gerry was watching him. ‘So now where are you going?’ he asked.

  ‘Out,’ Bishop said, and left.

  SIX

  Bishop took off for Highbridge Park on foot. He could have found a cab, but he wanted to think. And he generally thought better when he walked. Besides, it was only a couple of miles away. Sometimes it was easy to forget how small Manhattan was. That at less than twenty-four square miles in size, just about everywhere was within walking distance. In point of fact, twenty-three point seven square miles, if he remembered correctly. Which he usually did. One of the benefits of possessing an eidetic memory.

  He spent most of the walk trying to figure out why Amy would be hanging around the park area when she could have bypassed it completely by going straight home from the 191st Street stop. After all, her apartment was only a few blocks away from the station. Gerry’s explanation that she sometimes liked to go one stop further and walk back for the exercise was fine for daylight hours, but not at eleven at night. Amy was too smart for that. Manhattan’s crime rate wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it used to be, but muggings still occurred with regularity. Last year they’d averaged out at slightly less than ten a day. And rapes in the borough were a tenth of that. Assuming the official police statistics were correct, of course; Bishop had his doubts.

  So what was Amy doing there?


  Maybe the ‘working late’ story was just that. A story. Maybe she’d come back from meeting somebody nearby. Like a boyfriend, perhaps. With Gerry as a husband, Bishop wouldn’t have blamed her at all. But hard as he tried to imagine it, it just didn’t mesh with what he knew of Amy’s character. She was the loyal type; always had been. On top of which, she’d never really had much interest in men, despite her stunning looks. Or maybe because of them.

  He remembered her coming out to Parris Island to see him graduate Basic Training, and how almost his entire platoon had begged him for her phone number. After the final ceremony, Bishop had bought them both a late lunch at the food court and told her just how popular she was. She’d simply chuckled as she took a bite of her burrito.

  ‘Not impressed, huh?’ he’d asked.

  Amy shrugged. ‘By blind infatuation from a bunch of horny alpha males? Well, it’s kind of flattering, I guess, but it doesn’t really mean anything, does it?’

  ‘Well, it means you can have pretty much any man you want. Not too many women can say that.’

  She smiled at him in a maternal way as she patted his hand. ‘Sweetheart, in time you’ll learn that having more choices than the next person just means you got more ways to screw up. Especially when it comes to prospective partners.’

  ‘Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.’

  ‘I’ve made my share of screw-ups, bro. Believe me.’

  ‘You mean with boyfriends?’

  ‘Sure. But that’s life, isn’t it? You learn from your mistakes and move on. It’s what separates us from the fishes.’

  ‘And what have you learned, Amy?’