“That’s what Tina keeps telling me. What information do you need?”
“Have you ever heard of George Mellis?”
“The food family?”
“Yes.”
“He’s not exactly on my beat, but I know who he is. What about him?”
“I’d like to know if he has any money.”
“You must be kiddin’. His family—”
“I mean money of his own.”
“I’ll check it out, Peter, but it’ll be a waste of time. The Mel-lises are rich-rich.”
“By the way, if you have anyone question George Mellis’s father, tell him to handle it gently. The old man’s had several heart attacks.”
“Okay. I’ll put it out on the wire.”
Peter remembered the dream. “Nick, would you mind making a telephone call instead? Today?”
There was a different note in Pappas’s voice. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Peter?”
“There’s nothing to tell. I just want to satisfy my curiosity. Charge the phone call to me.”
“Damn right I will—and the dinner you’re gonna buy me when you tell me what the fuck this is all about.”
“Deal.” Peter Templeton hung up. He felt a little better.
Kate Blackwell was not feeling well. She was at her desk talking on the telephone when she felt the sudden attack. The room started to spin, and she gripped her desk tightly until everything righted itself again.
Brad came into the office. He took one look at her pale face and asked, “Are you all right, Kate?”
She let go of the desk. “Just a little dizzy spell. Nothing important.”
“How long since you’ve had a medical checkup?”
“I don’t have time for that nonsense, Brad.”
“Find time. I’m going to have Annette call and make an appointment for you with John Harley.”
“Bloody hell, Brad. Stop fussing, will you please?”
“Will you go see him?”
“If it will get you off my back.”
The following morning Peter Templeton’s secretary said, “Detective Pappas is calling on line one.”
Peter picked up the phone. “Hello, Nick.”
“I think you and I better have a little talk, my friend.”
Peter felt a sudden anxiety stirring in him. “Did you talk to someone about Mellis?”
“I talked to Old Man Mellis himself. First of all, he’s never had a heart attack in his life, and second, he said as far as he’s concerned, his son George is dead. He cut him off without a dime a few years ago. When I asked why, the old man hung up on me. Then I called one of my old buddies at headquarters in Athens. Your George Mellis is a real beauty. The police know him well. He gets his kicks beating up girls and boys. His last victim before he left Greece was a fifteen-year-old male prostitute. They found his body in a hotel, and tied him in with Mellis. The old man bought somebody off, and Georgie boy got his ass kicked out of Greece. For good. Does that satisfy you?”
It did more than satisfy Peter; it terrified him. “Thanks, Nick. I owe you one.”
“Oh, no, pal. I think I’d like to collect on this one. If your boy’s on the loose again, you’d better tell me.”
“I will as soon as I can, Nick. Give my love to Tina.” And Peter hung up. He had a lot to think about. George Mellis was coming in at noon.
Dr. John Harley was in the middle of an examination when his receptionist said, “Mrs. George Mellis is here to see you, Doctor. She has no appointment, and I told her your schedule is—”
John Harley said, “Bring her in the side door and put her in my office.”
Her face was paler than the last time, and the shadows under her eyes were darker. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, John, but—”
“That’s all right, Alexandra. What’s the problem?”
“Everything. I—I feel awful.”
“Have you been taking the Wellbutrin regularly?”
“Yes.”
“And you still feel depressed?”
Her hands were clenched. “It’s worse than depression. It’s—I feel desperate. I feel as though I have no control over anything anymore. I can’t stand myself. I’m afraid I’m—I’m going to do something terrible.”