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friend s hand and went to her room to retrieve it.
Hello?
Virginia, right? Is this the right number?
The man sounded familiar, but Ginny couldn t place who it
was. It didn t help that the voice was thick with what she thought
were tears, punctuated by sniffles. She didn t recognize the num-
ber, but it started with 917, a New York City cell phone area
code.
This is Detective Lavoie. Can I help you?
I need to see you right now. Can you come down here?
Who is this?
Topher Malkovich. From Café des Artistes. Remember?
Of course. I m sorry. What s going on?
I was going through Geoffrey s stuff, he said. And there s
something horrible.
Ginny s definition of horrible included many things, such as
severed human body parts and the collected songs of Air Sup-
ply. What Topher Malkovich proffered across the café table
didn t quite qualify. But considering what he d just lost, what he
was continuing to lose, she could understand why he held out
the manila envelope like it was filled with spiders.
It was a stack of photographs. Nude pictures of a young man
T he M or ti ci an s D aughter 157
posed in a variety of artsy but erotic positions on a geometric-
patterned sheet. Photos taken by Geoffrey. Of Danny.
That s our bed, Topher said. That pretty much said it all.
Topher s face was tearstained, nose red from blowing. He lit
a cigarette with shaking hands that immediately reminded her of
Sonya s from half an hour before. Some days, she thought, this
world doles out so much pain there s more than enough for
everybody to get a second helping.
Are you sure you want to be here? She indicated the busy
coffee shop, where the latte line was six deep.
I can t go home, he said. That was our bed.
You said you found these in Geoffrey s things?
The tears started up again, and he swiped at them with a nap-
kin. His mom called. She wanted him to be buried in his grand-
father s cuff links. Like he ever wore a French-cuff shirt in his
life. But I guess it mattered to her. He blew his nose again, a
deafening honk. Not like she s thinking straight. She s totally
freaked out. Like it wasn t bad enough her kid was a fag. Now
he s a dead fag.
Topher, I
He recoiled as if she d reached for him, though she hadn t
moved a muscle. Don t try to console me, okay? You re not my
friend.
She tried to keep her voice even, afraid he d spook if she said
the wrong thing. Then why did you call me?
I don t know, he said. I didn t know what else to do. All
my friends they re his friends, too. And you wanted to
know about Danny, so I He cut himself off, body shak-
ing with sobs. How could he? How could that bastard do
this to me?
Ginny wasn t sure to whom he was referring his unfaithful
boyfriend or the guy he d cheated on him with. Hold on a sec-
158 E li zabeth B loom
ond, she said. Maybe you re jumping to conclusions. Geoffrey
was an artist. Couldn t these just be
You ever seen art with that big of a hard-on?
He was right; it was porn. And covered with suspiciously
sticky fingerprints, at that.
Topher shook his head, an ugly expression parking on his
face. You know, I gave up my whole goddamn life to come up
here with him. I had a restaurant job I totally loved and this kick-
ass apartment in the East Village. Went out every night of the
week. Tons of friends. But I chucked it all, because I loved him.
So what the fuck am I supposed to do now?
I m really sorry, she said, putting a hand over his. This time
he didn t push her away.
It was bad enough he was dealing like he was the fucking
Ronald McDonald of crystal meth. I told him it was too much,
it was gonna get him killed. But no he loved the money, but he
jonesed for the goddamn thrill even more. I think that was
why He shook his head again, slammed a snotty fist on the
tabletop.
Why what?
She watched him debate whether to answer. Then he glanced
down at the photos, and they seemed to help him make up his
mind.
I heard him on the phone the day after they found Danny s
body. He didn t know I was home. But I think he was threaten-
ing somebody.
Who?
I don t know. I only caught part of it, but I think he was say-
ing he d go to the cops if the other person didn t do what he
wanted.
Which was what? Money?
I don t know. I don t think so. That s why I say he got off
T he M or ti ci an s D aughter 159
on the thrill. He took a drag of his cigarette, hands still shak-
ing. Motherfucker.
I m sorry, but there s something else I need to ask you. Do
you have any idea if Geoff was with Danny the night he died?
Topher squeezed his eyes shut, stayed that way for a while,
then opened them. He never told me, he said. And at the
time, nobody knew anything had even happened to Danny, you
know? He did come home pretty late that night, and he seemed
riled up. But I was afraid to ask too many questions.
Because you suspected there was another guy?
Topher shook his head. I figured it had something to do
with his dealing, and I didn t want to hear about it. Back then I
thought that was as bad as it could get.
He stared at the photos, so intently Ginny got the feeling he
couldn t look away. The Danny captured in black and white was
muscular and beautiful. And though he was trying to affect an
air of worldly sensuality, the expression in his eyes was strangely
innocent.
26
Z
he autopsy report finally came in the mail that afternoon.
TShe hid it under a Lillian Vernon catalog and snuck it into
the bathroom, where she read it behind a locked door.
It didn t tell her much. The autopsy had been done by a local
physician not the dogcatcher-slash-coroner, but not the
board-certified medical examiner in Pittsfield, either. She
160 E li zabeth B loom
flipped through the meager pages, translating the doctorspeak
into English.
Danny s wounds indicated he d been beaten by a cylindrical
object such as a pipe or baseball bat. In the city the M.E. would
have scrutinized the wounds for evidence that could narrow it
down, like wood slivers or metal shavings. No such luck. The
doctor had noted the weight of Danny s brain, that his heart ap-
peared healthy, and that his tox screen was negative for drugs
and alcohol. It helped her not at all.
Ginny had also ordered, and paid for, a complete set of au-
topsy photos. She set her jaw and opened the envelope, flipping
through them quickly; there was a limit to how long Sonya was
going to believe she was in the john.
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