I saw Patrick giving me a sidewise glance. “Cut the fantasy and tell us what you’ve got already.”
But he wasn’t giving it up that easily. “Most forensics would’ve missed it, of course. You do the outside of the car, sure. The upholstery. But how many would’ve bothered to check the floor mats? Especially with a guy who has been so scrupulous in the past?”
I grabbed him by the lapels. “Prints? Are we talking about prints?”
“It’s possible…”
“I’m not your joytoy, Tony. Don’t play with me. Have you got a print?”
“There’s definitely something there. I’ll take the mat back to the lab and try vacuum metal deposition. It’s great for lifting prints off plastic. I’ll get something for you.”
I couldn’t restrain myself. I pulled him closer and smacked him a big one, right on the lips. “But that’s as far as it goes,” I cautioned.
“Looks like there was a tussle,” Tony explained. “We found a few drops of blood in there that didn’t come from Spencer. I think she hurt him. He fell forward, his hand went down on the mat, he forgot to clean up. Maybe didn’t have time. The rental company tells me those mats were washed just before Spencer rented it, so…”
I couldn’t help myself. I kissed him again.
He arched an eyebrow. “Could we take this somewhere?”
I released his lapels. “Yeah, back to the lab. Now.”
She must’ve heard him coming. The steps leading to the basement were wooden and creaked when he stepped on them.
“Who is that? Let me out of here!”
The basement was dark, but he liked it that way. When he first moved in, he had been down almost every day, oiling hinges, wiping the walls with mildew remover, but at some point he had realized that was futile and foolish. He was denying the basement its true nature, its essential basementness, so to speak. Certainly the prophet would not have approved. So these days, he let things be what they were. As a result, the basement had acquired a distinctive odor, not noisome, but a lovely evocative mustiness. The air seemed thick and earthy; the walls bore a thin filmy layer of green growth.
He found Dr. Spencer in the alcove on the far side, strapped to the table, just as he had left her.
“You can’t get away with this,” she shouted. Her words echoed through the basement, reverberating off the stone walls. “I’ve had people following me everywhere I go.”
“Then where are they, madam?” he replied, smiling sweetly. “I’m afraid I find that statement lacking a certain credibility. You see, I am intimately familiar with all your security precautions. I struck at a time when your protection entrusted you to the custody of the rather poorly chosen and recently bifurcated Harv Bradford.”
Between the two of them, forming a partition between the alcove in which she lay and the rest of the basement, was a four-foot-tall brick wall.
“You’re the security man, aren’t you?” she said, staring at him. “Back at the hotel. The other one.”
“What a memory you have. Spectacular.”
“Let me tell you something, mister. You didn’t know half the precautions I was taking. I had eye-in-the-sky copters watching me. There’s a homing device in my shoe.”
“I don’t think so.”
“As soon as they zero in on my position, your ass-”
“Madam, you have been here more than twenty-four hours.”
She paused, her mouth sucking air. “But-I just-”
“You’ve had a nice long nap, courtesy of my favorite pharmaceutical. But I am forced to conclude that if anyone had the slightest notion where you were, they would have long since arrived.”
She was silent for a while. “What do you want? Are you going to strip me naked and… do whatever it is you do?”
He struggled to maintain control. “I have not removed your clothing because you are not now, nor could you ever be, an offering. And may I add that I have never assaulted or in any way behaved inappropriately with any of my offerings. Your public accusations were offensive and ungrounded.”
“You killed three girls!”
“That is correct, in a technical sense. But there was no sexual misconduct, my dear pseudo-doctor. I’m sure the police have conducted tests establishing that for a fact. They in all likelihood have shared that information with you. Nonetheless, you appeared in a public forum and made your vile accusations.” He paused. “A gentleman’s reputation is his stock in trade. You have impugned my personal integrity. For that, you must be punished.”
He had prepared the mortar earlier. He added some water from the sink, loosening it. He stirred it with the trowel. It was ready.
“I can’t believe this,” Spencer said. Her voice was hoarse from shouting and it had acquired an edge, but one born more of fear than of menace. “I’ve got a serial killer complaining that I tarnished his reputation.”
He slapped mortar down atop the partial wall, then pressed a brick into place. It held.
“I mean-don’t you see a certain irony in that?”
“I see that you understand nothing,” he said, applying another brick, then another. “I see that you categorize me with the insane, or those who kill for pleasure or sexual gratification. Insult upon insult.” Another brick. Then another. Then another.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Just finishing a little something I started. I’m a great devotee of home improvement.” Another row finished. Then another.
Time passed. She watched him work. As each new brick fell into place, her voice became more strained. “Look… I never meant to offend you. I just-I loved my daughter.”
“You did not, madam.”
“How dare you-”
“Annabel talked quite a lot about you before she was offered. She told me that you never paid any attention to her, hadn’t for years. That you were always absent, obsessed with your career. Your work, that was what you loved. Not her.”
“How can you presume to-”
“I have it from the best authority, wouldn’t you say?”
“Annabel was a child. She couldn’t understand what a working single parent-”
“She knew whether her mother paid attention to her or not.”
“Paid attention to her? I lavished every possible attention on her. Did she tell you she was going to MIT, for Christ’s sake? Did she tell you what she was driving?”
“The checkbook, my dear woman, is no substitute for parenting.” He slapped another layer of brick on the wall. It now reached two-thirds of the way to the low basement ceiling. He had to stand on a ladder to continue his work. “Could you perhaps name one of her friends? No guessing, now.”