Chapter Seven
Gnocco Cucina & Tradizione
337 E 10th
New York City, New York
"So just ask around, find out what he remembers, if anything," Jimmy Pace said, taking a bite of his roast beef sandwich and wiping his mouth.
"Sure thing, Jimmy, I'll head over first thing in the morning," Simon Toretti replied, rising from their corner booth and heading for the front door.
Neither took notice of the teenage girl sitting at the counter next to them with multi-colored hair, dark eye make-up, and a nose ring. She was flipping through a textbook and making notes in a spiral while bobbing to headphones. As Simon walked out, Mathilda gathered her belongings and made her way to the door, sparing a glance at Simon's back as she headed in the opposite direction.
Supreme Macaroni Co./Guido's Restaurant
Little Italy
Manhattan
Mathilda slid into the booth Tony was already occupying and started detaching multi-colored hair pieces from her head. Tony took note of the nose ring and raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Clip on," Mathilda explained, pulling it off and tossing it on the table. Tony grinned and shook his head in amusement.
"So what did you find out?" he asked. Mathilda flipped open her spiral notebook and turned it around for Tony to see.
"I'm not really sure," she said. "Apparently there's a man who was in a coma and woke up recently. I couldn't catch all of what they were saying, but this coma guy was around back in Stansfield's day and may know something about their, uh, business practices." Mathilda pointed to her notes. "John Doe #206318 at Franklin Hospital in
Valley Stream. Pace's man is heading over in the morning. So I am heading over tonight," she informed him, rising from the booth. "As soon as I get this goop off my face and dress in something other than varying shades of black."
Franklin Hospital Medical Center
Valley Stream, New York
Mathilda parked the late model Lincoln in the visitor's parking lot. It was Tony's vehicle, he kept it in a parking garage not far from the restaurant. He didn't use it that much and since Franklin was so far out of the city, he agreed to let her drive it. She entered through the front door and walked to the information desk. She told them she was looking for long term care for her comatose grandfather and asked to tour the facilities. She was given directions to the appropriate wing and was told that someone would meet her. When the elevator opened on the 3rd floor, Mathilda stepped out to find a very tall, very thin older woman in scrubs waiting for her.
"Miss Brown? Hello, I'm Amelia Ruttledge."
Central Park
New York City, New York
Simon Toretti dialed a number on his cell phone and waited.
"This is Pace," Jimmy answered his office phone.
"Jimmy, it's Simon. I called out to Franklin. Figured why go out there if I didn't have to. Talked to one of John Doe's nurses. Claims he never really remembered anything solid. Mostly images that were 'violent', her word. Anyway, he's staying at a halfway house and works at the Aegean on Columbus. I figured I'd go over tonight and . . . have some dinner.
"Sounds like a good idea, I might join you. I hear they have great food."
Franklin Hospital Medical Center
Valley Stream, New York
Amelia was becoming more confused by the moment. Young Miss Brown seemed sincere enough about finding long term care for her grandfather, but something wasn't quite right. When Amelia asked about the grandfather's diagnosis, the answers were vague at best. When questioned about his current condition and even location, Miss Brown's answers were still dubious. Finally Amelia guided the girl into an office and closed the door, turning to face her.
"All right, dear, I didn't fall off the turnip truck yesterday. I don't believe you have a sick grandfather." Mathilda sized the women up, then shrugged.
"No, I don't." Amelia waited, but the girl didn't elaborate. So Amelia crossed her arms and did some sizing up of her own.
"I can't imagine what a young person such as yourself would want here, unless it's drugs." She let the statement hang in the air. Mathilda's gaze hardened and she shook her head.
"I don't touch the stuff, had a bad experience with a pill head in the past," she said, thinking of Stansfield. Amelia nodded and looked at her thoughtfully.
"What is your name, dear?"
"Mathilda." Amelia's brows furrowed.
"Mathilda. That's an unusual name. Well, Mathilda, what can I help you with?" Mathilda pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Amelia.
"I need information about a John Doe under your care."
"Why?" Amelia asked before looking at the paper.
"He may be in danger." Amelia stared at the paper. 'John Doe #206318.' She looked at Mathilda, at the paper, and back to Mathilda. Her hair, the name, the age. Could it be?
"John? In danger? How?" Mathilda shook her head.
"It would sound implausible and I'm not certain that's the case anyway. If I could just speak to him?"
"He isn't here anymore. He left our care a couple of months ago." Mathilda considered this.
"All right. What can you tell me about him? How long was he here?"
"He was brought in about six years ago. He had been shot in the back of the head, he was found in a hotel that had burned down. You may remember – a number of policemen and D.E.A. agents were killed there. He was in a coma for four years, then started coming out of it, though with a severe case of amnesia. He improved steadily over the next couple of years and then he was ready to leave us." Sometime during Amelia's narrative, Mathilda had suddenly gone pale.
"Do you . . . do you have a picture of him?" Mathilda asked, voice trembling. Amelia immediately went to one of the filing cabinets in the room and pulled John's file. Paperclipped to the back interior was a Polaroid taken of John just before he left. Amelia removed the photo and held it in her hand just out of Mathilda's reach.
"You mentioned danger. What sort of danger did you mean?"
"The D.E.A.," Mathilda told her, looking her directly in the eye. Amelia nodded and closed her eyes, finally understanding why John had been brought to this out of the way hospital and forgotten. She opened her eyes and handed the photo to Mathilda, who took it with shaking hands. Mathilda took in a sharp breath as she looked at the picture. The eyes, the nose, the mouth. All of his beautiful features in living color.
"You ARE John's Mathilda, aren't you?" Amelia asked.
"Leon," Mathilda corrected. "His name is Leon."
"Leon," Amelia repeated. "That suits him." Amelia's eyes widened as she remembered something. "Oh, God. The D.E.A.! An Agent Toretti called earlier today asking about Jo- Leon. What he could remember and his current location."
"Where is he?" Mathilda asked urgently. Amelia grabbed a pen and pad from the desk, writing furiously.
"This is his address, a halfway house. And the restaurant where he works. His legal name is John Clark now." Mathilda snatched the paper from her hand and was half way out the door when she turned.
"You asked if I was 'his' Mathilda. Why?"
"Your name. It's the only thing he ever remembered."
Aegean Restaurant
219 Columbus Ave.
New York City, New York
John Clark put the finishing touches on an order of moussaka before placing it on the 'ready' shelf for the waitstaff to pick up. He was starting on the next dish when Patrico Chancre, the head chef, came up to him.
"John, Dino needs to see you in his office," Patrico told him, taking the wooden spoon from his hand.
"It's dinner rush, we'll fall behind."
"I'll take over, don't worry about it." John nodded and removed his apron, then washed his hands and headed for Dino Lucceri's office. He knocked, then opened the door when a voice inside told him to come in. He entered to find two men he didn't recognize sitting in front of Dino's desk. All three rose and turned towards him.
"John," Dino said. "These gentlemen are from the D.E.A."
Coming back from a job, the apartment is empty, a note on the table. "Leon, my love. I know where to find the guys who killed my brother. Their boss is Norman Stansfield. He's in the D.E.A. building, room 4602. . . John blinked and shook his head as if to clear it.
"John?" Dino asked. "You okay?"
"Yeah," John answered. "I'm good." Dino paused a moment longer, then turned to indicate the other two men in the room."
"This is Director James Pace and Agent Simon Toretti. They want to speak to you." John shook hands with them and stepped back, eyeing them warily. That memory flash he'd just had. The girl. Mathilda. He was sure of it now. He knew her. But what was her connection to the D.E.A.? For that matter, what was his own connection to the D.E.A.?
Jimmy Pace was becoming nervous as the seconds ticked by and John Clark continued to stare at them. As soon as the D.E.A. was mentioned, Clark's demeanor changed. Maybe his memory wasn't as lost as everyone thought.
"Mr. Clark," Jimmy said. "We'd like you to accompany us to headquarters, there's something you might be able to help us with." Simon shot Jimmy a look, but didn't say anything. Dino rose from his desk.
"Gentlemen, John is one of my best workers, I need him now. Could this wait until tomorrow?" Jimmy gave Dino an insincere smile.
"We'll return him as soon as possible," Jimmy said, then turned to Leon and indicated the door. "After you."