Chapter 84

“I know who you are,” I say to Patterson . “You have information for me?”

“Yes. But you’re going to need to see this in person. Can you be here between one and two?”

“I’ll be there.”

Two hours later, I pull my black Aston Martin DBS Superleggera into the parking lot of the morgue where my father’s autopsy was performed.

I remain in the car for a few minutes, breathing deeply, my hands clutched to the steering wheel.

For as many people as I’ve sent here, I’ve never been to a morgue. Wish I’d come sooner, seen the blue bodies of random strangers to get acclimated.

I step out and go into the building, where I’m met by Patterson . We pass the lone receptionist stationed at a curved desk to the right. She doesn’t bother glancing our way, simply keeps her head bowed over a bowl of noodles.

“It’s lunchtime,” Patterson informs me. “Arteta is under Andre’s employ. She won’t let anyone disturb us.”

I follow him down a wide sterile-looking hallway that reminds me of the ones in hospitals, with p