29

Sucking on the wedge of a lemon, Snow rewound the tape on her answering machine and played it back. Fargo’s voice, tripping over words as if they were obstacles to conveying information, came across loud and clear. “Snow, it’s me, Michael. Your friend Sibley has slipped away from the hospital. It happened two days ago. I only just found out about it. I’m coming up on the next plane.” Fargo left a telephone number in Boston for her to call if Sibley showed up before the FBI agents arrived. If she forgot the number she could call the local police and ask them to get in touch with Fargo at the Justice Department’s Boston office. “Be careful, Snow,” he added. “I don’t think he’s dangerous but you never know. If you hear from him, humor him. Play along with whatever story he tells you.”

Snow smiled to herself. He must take her for a complete idiot. She wasn’t going to fall into that trap again. Silas hadn’t slipped away from any hospital. The Admiral, to save his own skin, had arranged for him to be set free. She hoped Silas was smart enough to realize she would be watched and stay away from her. She hoped he wouldn’t stay away forever.

Snow could tell from the blinking light that there was another message on her tape. It began with the sound of a dental bridge clicking into place in a gum. “Guess who came to dinner?” a musical voice asked.

The words came equipped with the mocking laughter of someone who twitched in her sleep remembering the juicy rabbits she’d chased in her time.