Part 43 (1/2)

He was silent for several moments, but her patient waiting seemed todrive him to answer finally. ”There are certain criteria we use todetermine patient viability. Certain minimum levels of brain activity,for instance-”

”Was I below those minimum levels?”

”Faith, there's no absolute in medicine.”

”Was I below the minimum levels?” she repeated steadily. ”Was Iconsidered a viable patient with a future?” ”No,” he said, then hurriedon. ”But there was a flicker of brain activity, and I'd told Miss.Leighton on her last visit that there was always a chance. I'd seen someremarkable things ... and you were breathing on your own, so of coursethere was no question of- of ”n.o.body was going to unplug anything?”

Faith finished, her voice shaky now.

”No, of course not. And Miss. Leighton refused to give up hope. She wasvery upset when she left that last day, but still determined. I've neverseen anyone so determined to save another person. If strength of willcould have done it, you would have awakened that day. As it was, only acouple of weeks pa.s.sed before you did.” He paused. ”It's a shame shenever knew she was right.”

”Yes. A shame. Thank you, Dr. Burnett.”

”Faith ... about what happened the other day”

”Don't worry about it,” she said. ”We were all a bit touchy thatday.” She cradled the receiver gently.

After a moment, she got up and carried her coffee to the piano. She saton the bench and flexed her fingers, looking at them with a littlefrown. Then she touched the keys tentatively, one here, one there, not arecognizable tune.

The buzzer sent her quickly to answer the intercom so that the soundwouldn't disturb Kane, and a few minutes later she opened the door toadmit Bishop.

”I didn't think you'd be so early,” she said. ”Kane's still asleep, andI'd rather not wake him.”

Bishop eyed her thoughtfully and smiled. ”I see.”

Faith uttered a soft laugh. ”This time, I doubt it.

But never mind. There's coffee-mine, I'm afraid, but help yourself ormake a fresh pot, whatever suits you.

Bishop watched her retreat to the piano, his smile fading and browsdrawing together. ”I stopped by the station on my way here,” he said,coming farther 'in- to the room. ”Richardson filled me in. He also ...showed me the results of Dinah's autopsy. Nothing really unexpected.

Except-” ”Except time of death,” Faith said, pressing a key gently withone finger.

Bishop came to the piano and stared down at her.

'Yes.”

”She hadn't been dead a few days. She'd been dead a few weeks. About ...four weeks.” Slowly, Bishop said, ”The coldness of that bomb shelter,the lack of air and humidity-all slowed the rate of decomposition, madeit appear she'd died recently. But the autopsy proved otherwise. The M E. wasn't willing to estimate closer than three to six weeks.”

”Four,”

she said softly. ”Just about four.”

”Faith-”

”You know, it's the strangest thing.” She placed all ten fingers on the ivory keys, then looked up at him.

”Just a few days ago, I could do it, but now ... I've forgotten how to play the piano.”

Bishop gazed at her silently.

”Isn't that strange? And isn't it strange how I was able to pick those locks last night, when a few days ago I didn't even know that was a lock pick in the pocket of the jacket? Isn't it strange that I keep looking at my wrist as if I should be wearing a watch, when I know I've never been able to? Why I keep using my right hand instead of my left?”

She took her fingers off the keys and held one hand out to him. ”How's your bulls.h.i.+t detector?”

Bishop hesitated for only an instant before taking her hand. They stared at each other, her green eyes calm and his silvery ones penetrating, searching.

He sucked in a breath suddenly, and his face whitened. ”My G.o.d.”

Faith drew her hand gently from his. ”Isn't it strange,” she whispered.

Bishop seemed not to know what to say at first, but finally asked, ”Does Kane know?”

”I think ... he wonders. I think he's sensed some- thing. But who could know such a thing? Who could even imagine it to be possible?” ”It's a second chance,” Bishop said. ”How many of us are granted that?”

She shook her head. ”It isn't that simple and you know it.”

”It should be that simple.”

”Really? And how would you feel? Put yourself in his place. He's getting ready to bury her, Bishop. He's spent weeks grieving, letting go of her because he thought he had to.

What am I supposed to say to him now? Never mind?”

Bishop looked at her curiously. ”Her?”

Faith's smile twisted. ”Put yourself in my place. Do you really think anything-anybody could ever be the same again? Could ever be what they were before?”

”No. I suppose not.”

In the silence of the apartment, they both heard the distant sound of the shower starting, and Bishop said, ”I think it would be best if I made myself scarce for a while. I'll go back down to the station, see if there's anything I can do to help Richardson.” ”Coward,” Faith said with