It was a tempting offer. The money Kala had given her wouldn’t last long, and Con hadn’t even started to think about a place to sleep tonight. While she was mulling over his offer, another call came in from the same unknown number that had been calling all morning. It went to voice mail, but Con realized it was an 804 number. Richmond. Kala had said her original had moved down there with some guy. Suddenly the internal politics of Palingenesis lost all hold on Con’s attention.
“I need to call you back,” she said.
“Excuse me?” Gaddis said as she hung up the call.
Peter stood up questioningly. She hooked a thumb toward the bathrooms. He nodded and sat back down. His own LFD was already ringing.
Safely locked inside the bathroom, she scrolled through her missed calls. There were several messages from the same 804 number, but before she had a chance to listen to any of them, her LFD rang again.
“Is this the clone of Constance D’Arcy?” asked a man whose voice sounded like it had been aged in a barrel for twelve years.
“Who’s this?”
“Darius Clarke. I’m a detective with Richmond PD,” he said as though mildly irritated that she didn’t already know that. “We received notification from Palingenesis that Constance D’Arcy is deceased. I need to follow up with you. See if we can confirm a few things.”
“Confirm what?” She’d been racking her brain for who might be able to tell her what happened to her original. It hadn’t occurred to her to go to the police, but who better to provide answers?
“That Constance D’Arcy is deceased.”
“You don’t know?”
The detective cleared his throat as if he didn’t care for the question and it had gotten stuck there. “We don’t have a body. Up until the call from Palingenesis, it had been investigated as a missing person.”
Con realized that although she’d been obsessing over how her original had died, she hadn’t allowed herself to speculate. It had felt taboo and dangerous somehow. But if her original had been missing long enough for the police to get involved, that wasn’t a good sign. What had become of her life in the last eighteen months?
“Are you still there?” he asked impatiently.
“So what can you tell me?”
“That’s not really how this works. But I can fill you in a little when we meet. My sergeant thinks it could be useful to have a conversation with someone like you.”
“Like me?” She didn’t care for the way he said that.
“A clone. You have the vic’s memories. Who knows her better than you? Not often we get to interview the missing person while they’re still missing. It would be helpful to be able to understand her mindset.”
“Was I murdered?” It was an unpleasant question to ask.
“Best this is handled in person.”
“Okay, but I don’t really have any way to get to Richmond.”
“No need. I’m in DC now. Should be wrapped up at Palingenesis by eleven, so let’s say noon.” It was not a question.
Nothing about Detective Clarke’s attitude inspired cooperation, and growing up in Lanesboro had made her wary of getting involved with the police. Her interactions had always been fine and courteous when she was with her mother, but when she was alone, it was impossible to predict how she’d be treated. She didn’t know Detective Darius Clarke but didn’t hold out a lot of hope that he was one of the good ones. He sounded like an officious jerk on a power trip. The same kind she’d encountered when the band had been on the rise—the managers and the promoters, mostly men, who knew they were gatekeepers and that you had no choice but to play their game their way if you wanted to get ahead.
Thing was, he represented an opportunity to fill in a lot of blanks, and she didn’t think she had the willpower to say no to him.
“Noon works,” she said.
The detective named a dive on Indiana Avenue near Chinatown. Con said she’d be there, but the line was already dead.
Peter Lee was waiting at the counter when she returned. She told him she had to go.
“I’m to tell you that it’s a mistake,” he said.
“You’re not going to try to stop me?”
He smiled. “No, that’s not how this works. Wouldn’t do any good anyway.”
“Are you going to be in trouble with your boss?”
“No, he knew you’d say no. These things have to run their course.”
“What things?” she asked.