"Not exactly. I saw it all take place-well, behind my eyes."
'What do you mean by that? Are your visions sort of like daydreams?"
"In a way. But much more vivid than daydreams full of color and sound
and texture."
F "Did you see the Havelocks' killer in this vision?"
"Yes. Quite clearly."
"Did you also intuit his name?"
"No," Graham said. "But I was able to give the police a thorough
description of him - He was in his early thirties, not shorter than
five-ten or taller than six feet. Slightly heavy. Receding hairline.
Blue eyes. A thin nose, generally sharp features. A small strawberry
birthmark on his chin.... As it turned out, that was a perfect
description of the building superintendent."
"And you'd never seen him?"
"My first glimpse of him was in the vision."
"You'd never seen a photograph of him?"
"No."
"Had he been a suspect before you gave the police this description?"
Prine asked.
"Yes. But the murders took place in the early morning hours of his day
off - He swore that he had gone to his sister's house to spend the
night, hours before the Havelock girls were killed; and his sister
supported his story. Since she lived over eighty miles away, he seemed
out of the running."
"Was his sister lying?"
"Yes.
"How did you prove it?"
While handling the dead girls' clothing, Graham sensed that the killer
had gone to his sister's house a full two hours after the murder had
taken place-not early the previous evening as she insisted. He also
sensed that the weapon-a Smith & Wesson Terrier .-was hidden in the
sister's house, in the bottom drawer of a china closet.
He accompanied a Boston city detective and two state troopers to the
sister's place. Arriving unannounced and uninvited, they told her they
wanted to question her on some new evidence in the case. Ten seconds
after he stepped into her house, while the woman was still surprised at
the 'sight of them, Graham asked her why she had said that her brother
had come to stay on the evening of November first when in fact he
actually had not arrived until well after dawn on November second.
Before she could answer that, before she could get her wits about her,
he asked her why she was hiding the murder weapon in the bottom drawer
of her china closet. Shocked by his knowledge, she withstood only half
a dozen questions from the detective before she finally admitted the
truth.
'Amazing," Prine said. "And you had never seen the inside of her house
before you had that vision?"
"I'd never even seen the outside of it," Graham said.
,Why would she protect her brother when she knew he was guilty of such a
horrible crime?"
"I don't know. I can see things that have happened and very
occasionally, things that soon will happen in places where I've never
been. But I can't read minds. I can't explain human motivations."
The program director signaled Prine: five minutes until they broke for
the commercials.
Leaning toward Harris, Prine said, "Who asked you to help catch this man
they're calling the Butcher? Parents of one of the murdered women?"
"No. One of the detectives assigned to the case isn't as skeptical as
most Policemen. He believes that I can do what I say I can do. He
wants to give me a chance."
"Have you gone to the scenes of the nine murders?"
"I've seen five of them."
" ' And handled the clothes of the victims?"
"Some of them."
Prine slid forward on his chair, leaning conspiratorially toward Harris.
"What can you tell us about the Butcher?
"Not much," Graham Harris said, and he frowned, because that bothered
him. He was having more trouble than usual on this case.
"He's a big man. Good-looking. Young. Very sure of himself and sure
of the-"
"How much are you being paid? Prine asked.
Confused by the question, Graham said, "For what?"
"For helping the police," Prine said.
"I'm not being paid anything."
"You're just doing it for the good of society, then?"
"i'm compelled. i'm doing it because I-"
"How much did the Havelocks pay you?"
He realized that Prine had been leaning toward him not conspiratorially
but hungrily, like a beast preparing to pounce on its prey. His hunch
had been correct: that son of a bitch had chosen him for the nightly
trouncing. But why?
"Mr. Harris?"
Graham had temporarily forgotten the cameras (and the audience beyond),
but now he was uncomfortably aware of them again. "The Havelocks didn't
pay me anything.
"You're certain of that?"
"Of course I'm certain."
"You are sometimes paid for your services, aren't you?
"No. I earn my living by-"
"Sixteen months ago a young boy was brutally murdered in the Midwest.
We'll skip the name of the town to spare the family publicity. His
mother asked for your assistance in uncovering the killer. I spoke with
her yesterday. She says that she paid you slightly more than one
thousand dollars-and then you failed to find the killer.
What the hell is he trying to prove? Graham wondered. He knows I'm
far from poor. He knows I don't need to run halfway across the country
to hustle a few hundred dollars. "First of all, I did tell them who
killed the child and where they could look for the evidence that would
make their case. But both the police and this woman refused to follow
up on the lead that I gave them.
"Why would they refuse?"
"Because the man I fingered for the murder is the son of a wealthy
family in that town. He's also a respected clergyman in his own right,
and the stepfather of the dead boy."
Prine's expression was proof enough that the woman had not told him this
part of it. Nevertheless, he pressed the attack. That was
uncharacteristic of him.
ordinarily, he was vicious with a guest only when he knew that he had
evidence enough to ruin him. He was not entirely an admirable man;
however, he usually didn't make mistakes. "But she did pay you the
thousand dollars? "
"That was for my expenses. Airline fares, car rentals, meals and
lodging while I was working on the case."
Smiling as if he had made his point, Prine said, "Do they usually pay
your expenses?"
"Naturally. I can't be expected to travel all about, spending thousands
of my own money for-"
"Did the Havelocks pay you?"
"My expenses."
"But didn't you lust tell us a minute ago that the Havelocks didn't pay
you anything?"
Exasperated, Graham said, "They didn't pay me. They just reimbursed me
for-"
"Mr. Harris, forgive me if I seem to be accusing you of something you
haven't done. But it occurs to me that a man with your reputation for
performing psychic miracles could easily take many thousands of dollars
a year that is."
from the gullible. If he was unscrupulous, ,Look here-"
"When you're on one of these investigations, do you ever pad your
expenses?" Prine asked.
Graham was stunned. He slid forward on his chair, leaned toward Prine.
"That's outrageous!" He realized that Prine had settled back and
crossed his legs the instant that he got a strong reaction. That was a
clever maneuver that made Graham's response seem exaggerated. He
suddenly felt as if he were the predator. He supposed that his
justifiable indignation looked like the desperate and weak self-defense
of a guilty man. "You know I don't need the money. I'm not a
millionaire, but I'm well fixed. My father was a successful publisher.
I received a substantial trust fund. Furthermore, I've got a moderately
successful business of my own."