"I know you, Lindsay. You'll pretend this is something you can fix by working harder. But you can't. This is deadly serious. I want you to call him today." Suddenly my beeper sounded. I fumbled for it in my bag and looked at the number. It was the office-Jacobi. "I need a phone," I said. Orenthaler shot me a reproving look, one that read, I told you, Lindsay. "Like you said," -- I forced a nervous smile" therapy He nodded to the phone on his desk and left the room. I went through the motions of dialing my partner. "Fun's over, Boxer," Jacobi's gruff voice came on the line. "We got a double one-eight-oh. The Grand Hyatt." My head was spinning with what the doctor had told me. In a fog, I must not have responded. "You hear me, Boxer? Work time. You on the way?" "Yeah," I finally said. "And wear something nice," my partner grunted. "Like you would to a wedding."


ChapterS


HOW I GOT from Dr. Orenthaler's office, out in Noe Valley, all the way to the Hyatt in Union Square, I don't remember. I kept hearing the doctor's words sounding over and over in my head. In severe cases, Negli's can be fatal. All I know is that barely twelve minutes after Jacobi's call, my ten-year-old Bronco screeched to a halt in front of the hotel's atrium entrance. The street was ablaze with police activity. Jesus, what the hell had happened? The entire block between Sutler and Union Square had been cordoned off by a barricade of blue-and-whites. In the hotel entrance, a cluster of uniforms crowded about, checking people going in and out, waving the crowd of onlookers away. I badged my way into the lobby. Two uniformed cops whom I recognized were standing in front: Murray, a pot bellied cop in the last year of his hitch, and his younger partner, Vasquez. I asked Murray to bring me up to speed. "What I been told is that there's two VIPs murdered on the thirtieth floor. All the brainpower's up there now." "Who's presiding?" I asked, feeling my energies returning.



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