She waited with McNab, cleared the proper paperwork, and stood by while a city drone unlocked and opened the bin.
And looked into the open bin at the god-awful, compacted mess.
“Well.” McNab shoved at his purple-and-green earflap cap. “I like a challenge.”
“You’ve got one. Take it in, do what you do.” She considered the logistics of him carting a big bag of compacted trash and garbage on the subway, dug into her pocket. “Cab it back.” She shoved money into one of his many pockets as his hands were currently busy working with the city drone to transfer the contents of the recycler to a large green bag.
“Thanks.”
“What are the odds?” she asked him.
“Pretty much zilch, but you never know. Maybe it gets lodged in a little pocket, and just gets compressed instead of shredded.”
“Good luck with that.” She started back to the car.
“Ten minutes sooner, I could’ve jammed the sucker, and we’d have it whole.”
She nodded as she climbed into the car because that had already struck her as a very interesting point.
Heading toward the hospital, she used her wrist unit to shoot off a quick text to Roarke:
Got a little delayed. I’m heading toward the hospital to check on Daphne Strazza. Home after that. I’ve got a long night coming—sorry.
Even as she asked herself if she was taking time here better spent elsewhere, she navigated the now-familiar route to Daphne’s room. She found her—white pajamas and robe, hair groomed—standing with Del Nobel.
“Lieutenant. Jacko’s keeps sending food. I’m trying to convince Dr. Nobel to take a share of today’s chicken Alfredo. It’s wonderful.”
“You look good. Stronger.”
“The nurse—Rhoda—she convinced me to, well, clean up a little. I do feel better. They said I can leave tomorrow, but—” She pressed her lips together, looked pleadingly at Del.
“I can stretch it another day, but it’d be good for you to get out of here.”
“I just don’t know where … My husband’s lawyer came by to see me. He was very, very kind. He gave me a debit card, for expenses until … until everything’s settled. I just can’t go back to that house. I just can’t go back there.”
As if her legs had given out, she sat.
“I can sell the house whenever Mr. Wythe says I can do that, but I can’t go back there.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
Daphne shook her head, but her fingers twisted together, and her eyes cut away.
“Do you remember walking outside?”
The fingers untwisted. Daphne looked at Eve. “No. I don’t. Not even like a dream. Dr. Mira said she’d come here tomorrow. If I’m not here—”
“She’ll come wherever you are,” Eve told her. “Mr. Wythe told me you’re allowed to get a hotel, and whatever you need. I can get you a room at the Palace. I can make sure you’re safe and secure there.”
“But … will you come there?” she asked Del. “If I have to go, will you come there and talk to me?”
“I can do that.”
“I’m not sure. I just don’t know what … What should I do?”
Before he could answer, Eve caught the sound of raised voices outside the door. She stepped back, o
pened it to see the on-duty uniform blocking a furious woman in a long red coat with a huge bag slung over her shoulder.