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"Everything was perfect- no one around. I locked all the doors without her noticing, she's too busy giving me her spiel. When we reached an inner bathroom with no windows, I hit her. And did her. She fell apart as if she was made of nothing. At first it was messy. Then it got easier. Like a good riff, the rhythm."

He talked on for a long while, slipping into a drone, like a surgeon dictating operating-room notes. Giving me details I didn't want to hear. I tuned out, listening to the dog thump and bark, listening for sounds from the bedrooms that never came.

Silence. Sighing. He said, "I found my life's work."

"Rodney Shipler," I said. "He didn't work at the school, did he? Was he a relative of Delmar's?"

"Father. In name only."

"What was his crime?"

"Complicity. Delmar's mom was dead, Shipler was the only member of Delmar's family I could find. Delmar told me his dad was named Rodney and he worked for the L.A. schools- I thought he was a teacher. Finally I located him over in South Central. A janitor. This tired old asshole, big and fat, living by himself, drinking whiskey out of a Dixie cup. I told him I was a lawyer and I knew what really happened to his son. Said we could sue, class action- even after the bitch, I was still trying to work within the system. He sat there drinking and listening, then asked me could I guarantee him a lot of money in his pocket. I told him no, money wasn't the issue. The publicity would expose Hitler for what he'd really been. Delmar would be a hero."

Jab. "Shipler poured himself another cup and told me he didn't give a shit about that. Said Delmar's mom had been some whore he'd met in Manila who wasn't worth the time of day. Said Delmar had been a fool and a troublemaker from day one. I tried to reason with him- show him the importance of exposing Hitler. He told me to get the hell out. Tried to push me out."

Coburg's eyes flared. The gun seemed fused to his hand.

"Another good German. He tried to push me out- real bully, but I taught him about justice. After that, I knew the only way was swift punishment- the system wasn't set up to do the job."

I said, "One form of punishment for the underlings, another for the high command."

"Exactly. Fair is fair." He smiled. "Finally someone catches on. Mrs. Lyndon was right, you are a clever piece of work. I told her I was a reporter, doing a story on you. She was so happy to help… her little A student." The gun tickled my ribs. "You deserve something for paying attention- maybe I'll knock you unconscious before I roll you over the cliff outside. Such a perfect setup…" Head cock toward the front door. "Would you like that?"

Before I could answer: "Just kidding! Your eyes will be taped open, you'll experience every second of hell, just like I did."

He laughed. Droned some more, describing how he'd beaten Rodney Shipler to death, blow by blow.

When he was through, I said, "Katarina was high command also. Why'd you wait so long for her?"

Trying to buy time with questions- but to what end? A longer ordeal for Robin- why was it so quiet in there?

My eyes shifted downward. The damn gun arm wasn't moving.

He said, "Why do you think, clever boy? Saving the best for last- and you messed me up royal. You were supposed to go before her, but then you started snooping around, sending your queer police buddy snooping, so I had to do her out of sequence… I'm pissed at you for that. Maybe I'll put your girlfriend on the barbecue. Make you watch that with your eyelids taped open."

Smiling. Sighing. "Still, she-beast got done, and what's done is done… do you know how she handled her fate? Total passivity. Just like the rest of you." Jab. "What kind of person would want to spend his life just sitting there listening- not doing anything?"

He laughed.

"She got down on her knees and begged. Her she-beast throat got all clogged up like a toilet full of shit… She was eating breakfast, I just strolled in, put this gun to her head, said "bad love, she-beast.' And she just fell apart."

Shaking his head, as if still not believing. Slight shift of the gun.

"Not an ounce of fight. No fun. I had to stand her up and order her to make a run for it. Kicked her butt to get her to move. Even with that, all she could do was stumble into the garage and get down on her knees again. Then she snapped out of her trance. Then she started begging. Crying, pointing to her stomach, telling me she's pregnant, please have pity on my baby. Like she had pity… then she pulled a card out of her pocket, trying to prove it to me. A sperm bank. Which makes sense, who would have done her?" Laughter. "Like that was a reason. Saving her beastly fetus. Au contraire, that was the best reason of all to do her. Kill Hitler's seed."

Another shake of the head. "Unbelievable. She bloodies Delmar's shorts and thinks that's a good reason… She started to tell me she was on my side, she'd helped me, killing him."

"She killed her father?"

"She claimed she OD'ed him on pills. Like she'd gotten some insight. But I knew she did it as a favor to him. Putting him out of his misery. Making sure I'd never get to him. Giving me another reason to do her hard and long, she's blabbing and just digging herself deeper." Smile. "I made sure to do the baby first. Pulled it out, still attached to her, showed it to her and put it back in her."

The dog's struggles seemed to be weakening; I thought I heard him whimper.

Coburg said, "You messed up my order, but that's okay, I'll get creative. You and your little friend will be an adequate final act."

"What about the others?" I said, fighting to keep my voice even. Fighting to focus my own rage. "Why'd you choose the order you did?"

"I keep telling you, I didn't choose anything. The pattern constructed itself. I put your names into a hat and drew them out, eeny-meeny- all the meanies."

"The names of the people who spoke at the symposium."

Nod. "All you good Germans. I'd been thinking about all of you for years- even before doing the bitch."

"You were there," I said. "Listening to us."

"Sitting in a back row, taking it all in."

"You were a kid. How'd you come to be there?"

"More karma. I was nineteen, living in Hollywood and crashing at a halfway house on Serrano."

Just a few blocks from Western Peds.

"… taking a walk on Sunset and I saw this program board out in front. Psychiatric symposium, tomorrow morning."

Tensing up, he waved the gun, arm dipping for just one second, then snapping back into place, the barrel touching my shirt.

"His name… I went in and picked up a brochure at the information desk. Shaved and showered and put on my best clothes and just walked in. And watched all you hypocritical bastards get up there and say what a pioneer he'd been. Child advocate. Gifted teacher. The she-beast and her home movies. Everyone smiling and applauding- I could barely sit there without screaming- I should have screamed. Should have gotten up and told all of you what you really were. But I was young, no confidence. So instead, I went out that night and hurt myself. Which bought me another dungeon. Lots of time to think and get my focus. I'd cut out your pictures. Pasted them on a piece of paper. Kept the paper in a box. Along with other important things. I've lived with you assholes longer than most people stay married."

"Why was Dr. Harrison spared?"