“I don’t know… It was kids,” he blubbered it out.
“Bullshit! The boss wants a name. Talk, you fat turd, or you’ll be picking up your teeth off this carpet.”
Tears streamed down Toby’s cheeks.
He recalled the hours of veneer and porcelain work the cosmetic dentist had placed in his mouth, creating a megawatt smile that shone out of his tanned face.
The big one lifted him up off the floor by his collar. A punch landed on his nose. Warm blood oozed down his face onto his golf shirt, and bloody bubbles formed between his lips when he managed to speak.
“Virginia Gunn. She probably did it.”
“Crybaby snitch. I knew you’d talk.” The big one looked down at him. “Didja get that Tony? Virginia Gunn…whoever the hell that is.”
“Got it. Virginia Gunn. We’ll find her.”
Sharp kicks in quick succession landed to his lower back and stomach, worse than either of the previous blows.
As the savage kicks continued, one after the next, Toby instinctively curled into a fetal position to protect his vital organs.
After a few moments, he felt nothing more.
The vomit dried brown on his face. He was out cold when Eugene clicked off the speakerphone and the Dobermans disappeared into thin air, out in the sweltering mirage of the strip-center parking lot, as if they’d never existed.
58
New York City
HAILEY LOOKED UP AND SMILED BRIGHTLY WHEN KOLKER ENTERED the room, face red and notebook pressed tightly under his left armpit.
“Hi, Lieutenant.”
He eyed her suspiciously when he caught her smiling over at him, leaning back casually against the two-way. He was all prepared to be the “bad cop.” A good mood was too weird and it threw him off.
“Hailey.” He nodded curtly, pulled out a chair, sat down, and crossed his legs ankle to knee. “Sit down.”
Hailey walked over to the conference table, pulled her chair in a little too close to Kolker, straight into his personal space, and sat, knowing he’d feel it was too awkward to pull his chair away from her.
“Feel like talking?”
“Sure.” She didn’t move a muscle, keeping her hands loosely clasped together in her lap.
“Mind if I use a recorder?” He took it casually out of his jacket pocket and laid it on the table in the tight space she’d left between them.
Hailey knew it was a well-practiced move, keeping it all very nonchalant.
“Go ahead,” she said. “But shouldn’t I be read my rights again?”
“Excuse me?”
“A substantial amount of time has passed since you last read them and I’m now in official custody, aren’t I? Might not hold up in court, you know.” She was practically quoting straight from police manuals used in cadet training all over the country, reminding him that she knew the rules and had played the game as many or more times than he had.
He rankled. “Of course, Counselor.” Sarcasm dripped off each word.
She held the smile.
He flicked on the recorder, took out the standard Miranda card all cops carried, and started reading it out loud. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be held against you…”
Halfway through the reading, she made eye contact with him and held it hard.
As if challenged to a duel, Kolker quit reading, slipped the card back into his wallet, and continued reciting Miranda by heart.
They squared off and the questioning began.
“So Hailey, how long had you treated Melissa and Hayden…and was it purely professional?” He asked it suddenly, with a smile.
Interesting. Was he switching to the good cop routine? Did he think she was crazy? That maybe she’d forgotten all the crap he’d put her through at the hospital?
She hadn’t.
He went on. “And when I was in your office, I noticed some papers on your desk. They were in plain view, I couldn’t help but see them. They’re about murder victims, stabbing victims to be exact…written by someone who gets a thrill out of it.”
“Well, Kolker, sorry I waited for you to get all set up with the recorder here and get all the way through Miranda, but maybe I shouldn’t talk without a lawyer.” She knew she could bring it all to a screeching halt by demanding a lawyer now. But the truth was, the lawyer might not show until the morning, and the overnight delay would give the cops enough time to trump up probable cause to rifle through her home and office-that is if they hadn’t already. Plus, it always looks bad to lawyer up when you claim you’re innocent. Like you have something to hide…which most suspects did.
He looked confused.
Encouraged by the reaction, she went on, “Frankly, I’m concerned about the way this investigation is being handled. You questioned me at the hospital before you read me my rights, and they had me on meds, meaning everything we discussed in my hospital room and office would be fruit of the poisonous tree. Much less a search. It’ll be suppressed in court, of course. And it’s not just your word against mine. Remember my colleague, Dana? She was present the whole time and will swear under oath that no rights were read before you questioned me.”
A scarlet pattern began to creep up his neck, spidering out of his shirt to blotch his face.
She pressed on. “Kolker, you are familiar with the fruit of the poisonous tree, aren’t you? You know, any evidence that flows from illegal beginnings is no good. I mean, they do run you guys through a little Crim Pro class here before they dump you out on the street…don’t they?”
Kolker might be screwed legally and know it, but that didn’t stop him from continuing the interview while he still had her on his turf, still banged up, and still minus a defense lawyer.
“Good try, Dean, but the evidence isn’t based only on what you said to me. The facts surrounding the deaths of Melissa Everett and Hayden Krasinski point directly to you. You’re the common link, Hailey, between two dead bodies. Not only that…there’s the forensics I mentioned. Yep, you’re locked in pretty tight on this one. And remember those eleven decomposed hookers, back home, Hailey? The last case you ever tried? Remember you were the big hero back then? Same exact MO.
“Four-pronged stab wounds, Hailey. Both Melissa and Hayden. You stabbed first, then posed the strangulation once they were down. Yeah, I checked it out, Dean. Lots of people down there say the case drove you kind of crazy…said I should have seen you in court. I hear you tried the case like you were possessed.”
Hailey remained carefully expressionless, but Kolker knew he hit a raw nerve.
The memories of the eleven dead women in Atlanta rose up in her mind’s eye, and she thought of her own clients, Hayden and Melissa, dying the same death. She could feel the sweat on the back of her neck making her hair wet underneath, but the rest of the loose blonde hair covered it.
She had to make it out of this stifling hole. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to work the case on the outside to build a defense and figure out who was responsible. Surely something Melissa or Hayden had said over all those months would give her a clue that the two murders were somehow linked.
“Female victims, right?” Kolker said. “All in their twenties, staged manual strangulation, four-pronged stab wound from a gourmet poultry knife, wallet and driver’s license intact, partially clothed, always with dirt and mud smeared on their faces, and of course, the fancy baker’s twine on every victim. It’s sick. What, you want to swoop in and be a hero again? Wanna talk about it, Hailey?”
His eyes bored straight into her as he struck a match on the bottom of his shoe and lit a cigarette.
“You could do it, all right. You could pull it off. We know you work out. We know you work out every night, running, weights, the whole thing. You’re strong. With the element of surprise on your side…not to mention the element of trust you had with your patients…listening to all their problems day in, day out. Picking out just the right ones…the weakest ones. Probably had ’em doped up on Prozac, lithium, sedatives, all arranged by you… Oh, yeah, you could do it…no doubt about it. Did you sock them in the head with something first, Hailey, just to stun them before you gave it to them with the poultry knife? And those journal entries of yours about stabbings…twisted!”