Numbered Account

Nick folded the letter. Running his fingers over its soft creases he could hear her whispering in his ear as they made love in his third-floor walk-up in Boston. "We'll take Manhattan, Nick." He could almost feel her legs wrapped around his back, her teeth biting down on his ear. He could see her under him. "Fuck me, Marine. We're going to the top. You and me, together."

And then the picture changed.

Nick is grasping Anna's slender arms outside his apartment. It is the last time he will see her, and he is fighting to explain himself, frustrated at the insufficiency of words to translate his emotions. "Don't you understand that I wanted everything as much as you, maybe more. I don't have a choice. Can't you see? This has to come first."

Now as then, Anna stared back at him mutely, understanding but not comprehending. His memory faded and he wondered whether he had really said those words. Or if he had just wanted to.

Nick put the knife away and set it inside the shaving kit. Continuing on his tour of bittersweet memories, he left the bathroom and walked the few steps to the bookshelves. He'd only brought his favorites with him, books he'd had for a long time, stories he'd read four or five times. He selected his copy of Homer's Iliad, German text, and reading the title on its spine, smiled. Every time he picked up the book he had the same thought: What kind of asshole actually reads this crap? It was just that kind of thinking that had made him attack this book, and dozens of others like it, in the first place.

Nick turned the paperback upside down and shook it. A small photograph fell to the floor. He picked it up and stared into his past. Squad 3, Echo Company at Jungle Warfare school in Florida. He was standing on the far left, twenty pounds lighter, face greased with jungle cammie. Next to him, a head shorter, stood Gunny Ortiga, skin painted so dark you could only see his pearly whites. And next to him Sims, Medjuck, Illsey, Leonard, Edwards, and Yerkovic. They'd all been with him in the P.I. He wondered what sea they were floating on tonight.

Nick replaced the paperback and drew a volume from the shelf above it. It was a leather-bound book, taller and slimmer than the rest. His father's agenda for 1978. Nick placed it gently on the desk, then went into the bathroom and found an unused double-edged razor blade. He returned to the desk, sat down, and opened the front cover of the agenda. He slid the razor under the upper left-hand corner of the yellow paper lining the inside cover and sawed it slowly back and forth. After three or four passes, the razor cut through the epoxy bond, and the yellow page came free. He folded it back and extracted a wrinkled piece of paper lying under it.

Nick held the police report concerning his father's murder in one hand, the razor blade in the other, and sighed gratefully. His secret admirer hadn't found the report. Thank God for that. He threw the razor blade in the wastebasket and laid the report down so he could take a good look at it. One ear was ripped and there was a perfect brown halo staining the lower half of the paper where a detective had rested his coffee mug. Still, all the facts were there, and Nick was reading them for the thousand and first time before he could even think of stopping himself.

Administrative facts were typed in a series of rectangular boxes across the top of the sheet. Date: January 31, 1980. Detective in charge: W. J. Lee, Lieutenant. Criminal Violation: Code 187- Homicide. Time of death: approx. 9:00 P.M. Cause of death: multiple gunshot wounds. The box marked "Suspects" held the initials N.S.A.- no suspect apprehended. Below these facts was a large blank area, about a quarter of a page in size, where Detective Lee provided a description of the events. At 9:05 P.M., Sergeants M. Holloway and B. Schiff responded to a call of shots fired at 10602 Stone Canyon Drive. Sergeants Holloway and Schiff found the victim, Alexander Neumann, age 40, lying prone in the entryway to the home. The victim had been shot three times in the upper abdomen by a high-caliber weapon at close range (powder marks visible). Victim was deceased at time of officers' arrival. The front door to the residence was open. The lock was intact. No other individuals were present. No sign of struggle. No determination yet made as to the state of articles in the home. Call requesting immediate dispatch of homicide detectives was made to West Los Angeles police headquarters at 9:15 P.M. Case forwarded to above filing detective.