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.”
“What difference does it make? Friends come and go.”
“Did you know she was pregnant?”
Her voice came back a little quieter. “The police told me.”
“Did you know the name of her beau, before the police found him?” He smiled, stirring the mortar. “His name was Warren. He and Annabel were in love and wanted to marry. She came to Las Vegas to make some money playing blackjack so they could start their life together.”
“She could’ve just asked…”
“She felt she couldn’t. She knew you would be importunate and disapproving and would not give her anything, so she didn’t bother. Because you were too wrapped up in your own world to be a part of hers.”
Dr. Spencer was quiet for several layers of brick. When she spoke again it was with a sullen defiance. “So you’re doing this to punish me for being a bad mother?”
“Not at all. You’re the one who brought up your relationship with your daughter.”
“Then why?”
“I cannot let you continue to interfere with my work. My plan.”
“What are you talking about? What do you think you’re doing?”
He slapped down another slab of mortar. “At the moment, I’m building a wall.”
“Around me? Is that your sick idea? You’re going to entomb me in your basement?”
“More or less.”
“And I’m supposed to lie here till the end of time?”
“Goodness, no. That would be cruel and inhuman.” He continued laying the bricks. “This is a small alcove, and the way you’re breathing, you’ll use up the air quite quickly. I doubt if you’ll last more than an hour or two.”
Her arms and legs stiffened, straining against the leather straps. It seemed her muscular control had returned. “Sadist!”
He made a tsking sound, then continued working. Barely half a foot remained between the top of the wall and the ceiling.
“Please don’t do this.” Her voice finally cracked. “I’ll give youanything you want. Just let me go. I won’t hunt you anymore, I promise.”
He sighed a little as he slapped down the bricks. It was so disappointing. In the end, they all gave way to weakness.
“What is it you want from me?”
“Only your death. A slow and painful one. A terrifying demise.” The wall reached the ceiling. There was only one opening remaining, one space he had left vacant at eye level. “I’m afraid this is where I must bid you adieu,” he said, peering through the gap.
“Please don’t leave me in here!”
“Dr. Spencer, you are wasting precious air. Instead of this useless caterwauling, may I recommend that you spend your remaining time coming to terms with your Maker? Use these last precious hours to commit yourself to your faith. If you have one.”
“You’ll pay for this!”
“And if not,” he said wearily, “this might be an opportune moment to adopt one.”
“For God’s sake-”
“Yes. For the love of God.”
With a splash of mortar he wedged the final brick into place, then plastered over the wall to ensure that it remained airtight. Not a bad bit of masonry, if he said so himself.
She did scream, of course, even though it was the stupidest thing she could possibly do. She threatened and pleaded and repeated the vile insults that had made this action so necessary in the first place. After a while, he realized he did not need to subject himself to this. He went upstairs, closing the basement door behind him, and waited for the screaming to end.