“I want to go there. Can you arrange it?”
“You can’t stay on this as a civilian. You know that, don’t you? Drooden snarls every time you show up as it is. It took me the better part of an hour just to talk him out of arresting you for entering the scene of a police investigation last night.”
“So I won’t stay on it. How’s that?”
“Who are you kidding? You’re already on it; you’ve swallowed the hook. You couldn’t leave now without ripping out your guts.”
“Shall we see?”
“Why else were you in there last night? For your own entertainment?”
“I was helping Tee. Now he’s got you.”
“I can get you back on temporary assignment. They’d love to have you.”
“How about you. Hatcher? Would you love to have me?”
“You’re good at it. I can live with you.”
“Get me in to see the actuaries at Dyce’s insurance company.”
“I’ll have to go with you unless you take temporary assignment.”
Becker watched Drooden exit the house and speak into the radio in his car. The electric crackle of the response could be heard, loud but unintelligible, across the road.
“We’d need a clear understanding,” Becker said.
“Name it.”
“I’ll work on it from this end, but I won’t go near him. I don’t want to be within miles of him.”
“Fine by me.”
“I mean it. Hatcher. I will not go down the hole for this one. You’ll have to find another ferret.”
“I didn’t send you in after Bahoud. It just happened.”
“I’m not going to debate history with you. All I do on this one is think, or I don’t have any part of it.”
“Agreed. We love you for your mind alone.”
“And try to stay away from me as much as you can, too.”
“Finding Bahoud was little short of a miracle, I’ve told you that. I admired your work greatly. Nobody expected you to take him on yourself”
“I was made certain promises then, too.”
“We tried to keep them. It just happened.”
“Well it won’t happen this time. You find another ferret. Because I’ll make you a promise, Hatcher. If I have to go down the hole, I’ll tie your arms and send you in in front of me.”
“Or we could try something novel for one of your cases,” Hatcher said. “We could make an actual arrest and bring him back alive to stand trial.”
Becker breathed with exaggerated calm and Hatcher feared he had gone too far. Hatcher did not fear most men, but he was afraid of Becker-he had seen him work.
“What have you found out from the girl?” Becker said at last.
“Very little of real use. We went at her nonstop for a couple of hours, but didn’t get much. The report’s being typed up now. She’s a weird one.”
“I’m going to see her.”
“What do you hope to learn we haven’t already got?” That was one of the qualities Hatcher disliked most about the man: He had no respect for the work of others but seemed to have to do everything himself, and in his own way. “She really doesn’t know much of anything about him. We will know more about him than she does by tomorrow.”
“We’ll know more facts,” Becker said.
“As opposed to what, guesses?”
“Feelings, intuitions.”
“Feelings? She thinks he’s a creep.”
“She thinks so now. What else could she say after she discovered the bodies? It makes her look like a fool to have had anything to do with him. I want to know what she felt about him then, before, when she was sleeping with him.”
“Good God, Becker. You want to know what he was like in bed? Is that it?”
“Something like that.”
“You can’t learn anything by that. I mean, you can’t judge a person by his bedroom skill, if that’s what you want to call it.”
“You stick to fingerprints and blood samples,” Becker said. “We’ve got all we’re going to get out of that. We know who he is already. I need to know why he is.”
“We have psychologists to give us a personality profile.”
Hatcher hated it when Becker grinned at him; he always felt he was being mocked.
“I supply them with their raw data,” Becker said.
Becker put the car in gear and drove away. Hatcher watched him go, knowing how close he had come to losing him. Hatcher hoped he still had the nerves for it.
Helen knew all about this man before he even spoke to her.
“It’s in your eyes,” she told Becker. “You have very kind eyes.”
“Do I?”
“They’re the mirror to your soul, you know.”
“Window,” said Becker. “The eyes are the window to the soul. I think that’s how it goes.”
“You know what I’m talking about, then,” Helen said. “I knew you would.”
“It’s not a theory I put much store in,” Becker said. “Soulful looks are pretty easy to fake.”
“But you’re not faking, are you? No. You see. I knew that. As soon as I opened my door and saw you standing there, I knew. I’m very good at that. I can take one look at someone and tell what they’re really like. It’s just a power I have.”
Becker restrained himself from asking her where her power was when she sized up Dyce. It seemed an unnecessary cruelty.
“What else do you see?” he asked. Becker wondered at the lack of information Hatcher had gotten out of Helen. She was primed and ready to talk. indeed he could see she was desperate to do so, the kind of woman who probably collared strangers in her need to unload her feelings. Hatcher would not have the skill or sense to play along with her and let her get there in her own time. She didn’t need a list of questions to get her going; all she needed was an ear and a stillness that could pass for compassion.
“Strength,” said Helen. “You’re strong, aren’t you, very strong, but sensitive, too. Women must just love you.”
Becker grinned boyishly.
“But you’re shy, too, aren’t you?” she continued. “I can see that, yes you are, you’re shy. Do you know how I know? Because I’m shy, too, although you wouldn’t think so to hear me rattling on sometimes.”
“Dyce was shy, too, wasn’t he?” Becker asked.
“Oh, my, yes. Shy-and private? My goodness. I never knew anything about him, really, not really. Only what I knew by my intuition, you see. He never told me anything.”
“That must have been very hard for you. You cared for him so much, but he just wouldn’t open up”
“Did I say I cared for him so much? We were friends.”
“I know you cared for him,” said Becker, smiling. “You’re not the kind of woman who would sleep with a man she didn’t truly care for.”
“Well, no, I’m not, I certainly am not, you’re right.”
“Although sometimes your emotions just get the best of you. I know what that’s like.”
“Do you?” Helen stopped pacing and sat next to Becker on the love seat. Her knee touched his thigh as she turned toward him. “I thought you would.”
“I’m not made of ice.” Becker looked her squarely in the eyes, holding her gaze. “Neither are you.”
Helen exhaled quickly, as if she’d been punched. She was melting. She hoped he couldn’t see it, but he was so perfect, so much the man she needed right now, someone strong, someone who could understand.
“Sometimes these things are too strong,” she said, casting her eyes down. “Sometimes they just overwhelm you.”
“And no one’s to blame for that,” said Becker.
“But I didn’t say I slept with Roger.”
“You didn’t say you didn’t,” said Becker.
She laughed and wagged a finger at him, allowing her knee to press firmly against his leg. She was being flirtatious, she knew that, perhaps even naughty, but sometimes a woman had to take a chance. He was so right for her.
“Oh, I have to watch you,” she said. “You’re the sneaky kind.” She laid her arm on the back of the sofa so that it nearly made contact with his back. She wondered if he noticed. Some men would notice immediately, and others, like Roger, would be oblivious. It was hard to tell with this one. He was so contained. But so cute-and she knew he liked her. The other agents had not seemed to like her; she didn’t know why. They had acted as if her relationship with Roger was something dirty, something she should be blamed for, for heaven’s sake. She certainly hadn’t told them anything they didn’t need to know.