He went over to the window, pulled the drapes fully closed. Now it was too dark, too stuffy, and he opened them again. The window looked out onto an air shaft.
“Have you even practiced today?” she told him.
“Are you fucking out of your mind? What am I going to practice with? The fucking bed?”
“Don’t be so shortsighted. They’re going to find it. In the meantime you still have a lot of work to do. That Mozart’s not going to play itself.”
“Nicole—”
“Ray. We’ve just got to find you another violin, just until yours is recovered. Unless you want to call and drop out of the competition? Nobody would blame you.”
He looked over at her, a shadow lost in shadow. “You think I should?”
“Should what? Get another violin? Fuck yeah, you should. We’re already in New York. Janice is coming. What’s the name of the guy that did the appraisal? Mike?”
“Mischa Rowland.”
“Yeah. He could help you find something. Just temporarily. They’re going to find your violin.”
He said nothing and she went on, “Ray, you’re about to make history. But you can’t do it if you don’t do it, dumbass. Just get the violin so you have something to practice on while they’re getting it back from Holly Marks. Let’s call Mischa Rowland first thing tomorrow. We can do this.”
“Can we talk about this in the morning?”
“Okay, but promise me that if your violin isn’t back by ten a.m., we’re standing on Mischa Rowland’s doorstep when he opens up.”
“I think he opens at nine.”
“Ten’s fine. Let me sleep in a little, okay? It’s almost four now,” she said. “If I were you, I’d be saying, ‘You need to do this. This is a temporary setback. You’re one of the best young violinists in the country. Maybe the world. This won’t stop you. This is your best opportunity to show everybody who always said you couldn’t.’？”
“But I—”
“Ray, there are no buts. This is it. This is your moment. You grab it. That violin is amazing but you’re even more amazing. And now you’re going to show everybody.”
“I’m going to win,” he said. “Even without the violin. How long will it take the insurance company to pay? Maybe I can get a message to the thieves, tell them I have the money and they can get it back to me early?”
“I have no idea,” she said, putting out her hand in the dark.
He took three steps toward her, reached out, grabbed the note, held on.
TRANSFER ON JULY 15 BETWEEN 12:00 PM EST–1:00 PM EST
“I want you to come with me,” he said.
“Of course,” she said. Her face was a smooth oval in the half-light. “I have a good ear for tone, and I think I know what will suit you.”
“No,” he said. The empty windows across from the air shaft gleamed at him, and he felt almost as if he were falling into them. “Not to get a violin. But I want you to do that, too. I mean to Moscow. I want you to come with me.”
“What?” She sat up. “Are you serious?”
“I’m very serious. I need you there with me. Especially after this. Will you come? Help a brother out?”
“But I have to play,” she said. He could tell from her voice that she was just going through the motions. Her grip tightened on his. “I can’t just take off three weeks from work—we’re doing that Sibelius retrospective, remember?”
“Nicole. You’re coming. We can do this together. I might not have a violin, but I have you.”
“I think the violin is worth more.”
“True. Maybe I can sell you in Russia and use the money to pay the ransom.”
She slid off the bed and slipped over to him, wrapped her arms around his back. Her face was cool against his cheek. “I’m sure I can probably get time off work.” He could feel her mind working, so close to his. “You’d probably have a lot of money left over, after you sell me.”
“Yeah, I’m planning on it. So you’ll come?”
“I’ve got to figure out flights.” Letting him go and sitting down on the bed, she pulled out her phone, compared various offerings.
With his eyes he traced the nape of her neck, the elegance of her finger as she scrolled across the screen. Her eighth-note tattoo flickered almost as if it were a melody. Even after the longest day in creation, she was still beautiful. How could she love someone as damaged as he was?