“You were both under an incredible amount of stress.”
“You think?” he said sarcastically.
She leaned forward. “Norman … Why did you visit Eric Colby?”
He shrugged. “Would you believe I just wanted to see him for myself and try to understand how that kind of evil could exist in the world?”
“No. I wouldn’t believe that.”
Wallach smiled. “Smart woman.”
“So tell me.”
“I went to see Eric Colby … so I could kill him.”
She nodded.
Wallach stood up and walked over to the window. He stared out through the opening left by a missing vertical blind. “For years, I thought it would be enough to see him executed. But after his date was set, I knew it wasn’t enough. I wanted to do it myself, and I wanted it to be painful.”
“This whole point of yours, masquerading as that writer, that’s what this was all about?” Lynch asked.
“I knew they’d never let me near Colby, so I had to come up with another way. I found this true-crime writer who I thought had done enough to interest him, yet wasn’t so famous that there would be pictures on the Web, just in case someone at the prison wanted to check me out. I got some good fake IDs and gave it a shot. There’s a whole application process. I was sure I’d get tripped up somewhere along the way, but it never happened. I got in to see him three times.”
“How did you think you were going to do it?” Lynch asked. “There’s no way you could have gotten a weapon in there.”
“But I did. Three times.”
“How?”
Wallach reached down to the windowsill, picked up a thin white blade about six inches long. He displayed it to them. “It’s made of carved animal bone.”
Lynch’s gaze narrowed on the thin blade. “Very deadly. But I know from personal experience that the guards pat you down extremely, even obscenely, thoroughly.”
“Yes, they do.” Wallach used the tip of the blade to fold back an almost imperceptible flap of skin on the underside of his upper left arm. He pushed the blade until it entirely disappeared beneath his skin.
Kendra’s eyes widened. “How in the hell…?”
“It’s a skin pocket. I cut and cauterized it myself.” He showed her his scarred right arm. “I tried doing it on this one first, but I made a mess of it. It got infected, and I was afraid I was going to lose my arm for a while. But that didn’t stop me from trying it on the other one. This time it worked. Unfortunately, I probably won’t ever be able to completely straighten my arms.”
“So you got it inside the prison,” Lynch said. “What good did it do you? You never used it on Colby.”
“I practiced my move for weeks. I knew I was only going to have one chance before the guards jumped me. One jab straight to the heart, maybe a second or third if I could work ’em in.” He swallowed. “But each time, I lost my nerve. He looked at me with those ugly eyes, and I’d cave. I was a coward. Sheila was right to leave me. Toward the end, I was afraid he’d get suspicious and not let me come back anymore. He asked me to talk to that TV crew, and I did it just so that he’d let me come back. I figured by the time anybody found out I wasn’t that crime-writer guy, it’d be over.” Wallach used his thumb and forefinger to slide out the blade from the cauterized slot in his arm. “And each time I lost my nerve, I was so disgusted with myself that I decided to come home and stab myself in the heart with this.” His mouth twisted with disgust. “But I didn’t have the nerve for that either.”
“Nerve has nothing to do with it,” Kendra said. “Deep down, you don’t want to die. And you know Eric Colby isn’t worth rotting for the rest of your life in prison. I know your son wouldn’t have wanted that.”
Wallach wiped the tears from his face. “I’m just hanging on for tonight. It’s going to happen, isn’t it? After all this time they’re going to kill the bastard. It’ll be such a relief to see that shit stain wiped from the face of the earth.”
“Yes, it will.”
Wallach was silent, then asked, “May I ask you a question?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you kill him when you got the chance? Then it would have all been over a long time ago.”
She flinched.
Lynch immediately stepped in, “That’s not fair, Wallach.”
“Yes, it is,” Kendra said. “No one has a better right to ask.” She stared Wallach in the eye. “I’ve asked myself the same question. I was tempted and resisted the temptation. I thought I was being virtuous and doing the right thing. I didn’t realize that the lingering ramifications of not doing it would be this terrible. Not only for you, but for others.” She reached out and grasped his arm. “I’m sorry that you went through all this. I hope God brings you peace after tonight.”
“I do, too.” He looked down at her hand on his arm. “I hope we all have peace.” He glanced at Lynch. “He was right. I don’t have any right to blame you. You’re the one who caught the bastard. I’ve just been thinking it would have been so much easier for Sheila and me not to have had to go through that court case or the rest of it.”
“Yes,” she said unevenly. “I can see how you would think that. But we have to look forward now. After Colby is dead, it’s not the end for you. As I said, your Stevie wouldn’t have wanted that. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
She glanced at Lynch, then back at Wallach. “Look, Norman. Let us take you someplace where you can get some help. I know people who can make you feel a whole lot better.”
He frowned. “Do I have to go?”
“No. We’re not arresting you or anything. This is just for you.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Fine. But can I have someone come and see you? They can help you here.”
He finally nodded. “Okay.”
“How about you let me hold on to that blade? Would you do that?”
He slowly, gingerly extended the carved blade.
She took it and slipped it into her jacket pocket. The thin blade felt light as air. She couldn’t even tell it was in her pocket. “Thank you, Norman.”
“You’re welcome.” He sat down in front of the television set. “Would you go now? I have to watch the news programs and make sure that Colby isn’t going to slip through the cracks because of those nutty people who want him to live because they never had a son like my Stevie.” He switched on the set. “I feel better that someone knows why I went to see Colby. It was kinda hanging over me.”
“I’m glad we know about you, too, Norman. Remember, you said that I can send someone to talk to you.” She stopped at the door. “That’s a promise, right?”
He nodded, his gaze on the TV screen.
Kendra turned to go.
“Kendra.”
She looked back at him.
“You may need peace even more than the rest of us,” Wallach said quietly. “I’m sorry I made it harder for you.”
“No problem.” She tried to smile as she left the apartment and hurried down the stairs.
“The hell it’s no problem.” Lynch was right behind her. He opened the front door for her. “He nearly tore you apart.”
“No, Colby tore me apart. Like Wallach said, life is hard. This is hell. None of it was Wallach’s fault. We’ve just got to keep him from killing himself after Colby is dead, and he has no purpose.” She got into the Ferrari. “As for blaming me, if he’d known about Myatt, he would have had a right to blame me even more. The chain never really stopped once Colby got his hands on Myatt to influence.” She held up her hand as he started to protest. “I know. You don’t have to tell me. That’s all under the bridge, and we have to move forward. Call Griffin and see if we have any more news on those disposable cell phones. He said that pinging business wasn’t a complete wash.” She took a deep breath to release the tension. “I hope someone can tell us something.”
“You’re a bit on edge.”
“Now why would I be on edge? Just because Colby is going to die, and I’m afraid Myatt will do something horrible to someone when he does?”
“That would do it.” He started the car. “You need this day to be over. But since you’re not like Wallach, who can park himself in front of a TV and zone out until the deed is done, I think we’ve got to keep you busy.” He smiled. “So that’s what we’ll do. I’ll keep you so busy that you won’t have time or mind to worry about Colby or Myatt. We’ll concentrate on details and pings and anything else that comes along. Deal?”