Travers took a small step forward, raising her hand to Jade's face. Just before it touched his cheek, the phone rang on the coffee table, startling her. Jade stood motionless for a moment, his eyes on hers. He walked to the phone slowly, picking it up on the fourth ring.
"Yeah?"
"Hello, Mr. Marlow. This is… this is Darby. I got something in the mail today."
Jade leaned forward, speaking intensely into the phone. "Is it a body part?"
A nervous laugh. "Oh, no. Nothing like that. Just a broken pencil. Looks like an eyeliner. It's probably nothing, but it came in a plain white envelope and I just thought-"
"Did you show the agents there?"
Darby laughed. "No. I don't find them very personable."
"All right. I'll be right there," Jade said, hanging up the phone. He turned to Travers. "Let's go."
On his way out, he grabbed the entertainment section of the newspaper from the kitchen table and jammed it in his back pocket.
It was time.
Pushing the gas pedal to the floor, Jade raced onto the highway heading toward the Atlasias.
"Fuck! I should've known."
"Known what? What's going on?"
"Trophies. He's mailing her trophies from his victims. It's common, really common. Gives him a thrill, mixing his world with theirs. Allander's linking them to the model of the monkeys. An eyeliner-has to do with the eyes. 'See no evil.' Family number one. I bet she gets lipstick from the second killing."
Travers shook her head. "Who cares? So he's sending her trophies. We already knew she was marked. It doesn't help. Why are we racing over there?"
"It's time to light the fire."
"What? What fire?"
"Under Allander. The one that'll get him moving."
"I already asked you-" Travers cut short her question and her jaw dropped. "No. You wouldn't. Even you."
Jade looked straight ahead at the road. "Come to Mama," he said.
"No way. We just increased protection on them," she said. "Everywhere they go. He's not stupid. There're too many men."
He looked over at her and groaned. "Jesus Christ, Travers. We'll pull them off."
"Excuse me?"
"Believe me, I'd like to."
"You're going to risk their lives to lure him in?"
"You're a quick study."
She laughed a single note, completely unamused. "Are they people, Jade, or instruments?"
"Let's be honest, Travers," he scowled. "What's the difference?"
"Don't you care about them? Any of them?" She shook her head and another disgusted laugh escaped her.
"I only care about one thing right now. And that's catching him."
"And you don't care who you have to kill to do it?"
"Risk, Travers. Don't you mean 'who I have to risk'?"
"And why, exactly, is that your decision?"
"Because no one else wants to make it."
They sped between two large trucks on the freeway, the noise rising as they passed them, then fading away.
"Christ, Marlow. I thought you liked them."
"I do like them. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"
"Pull over."
"What?"
"Pull over. Let me out. I'm not doing it. I'm having no part of this."
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
"PULL OVER! Now."
"With pleasure," Jade snarled. He yanked the car over onto the shoulder of the highway and skidded to a halt. He was off again before she could slam the door behind her.
Chapter 43
This time they sat in the kitchen. Thomas prepared dinner, washing salad and whistling along with Beethoven's Pastoral symphony. Darby sat at the kitchen table across from Jade, her elbows resting on the white tablecloth. She closed her eyes and let her head sway from side to side in time to the music.
"I love this," she said. "'The Shepherd's Song.'"
Jade sipped his glass of water. "It is nice."
"Where's your friend?" Thomas asked.
"My partner. Ex-partner, I suppose."
Darby smiled. "Could have read that one from a mile away."
"That we didn't get along?"
She shook her head. "Not quite."
Jade let it go.
"Have you seen The Globe?" Thomas asked.
"Of course he has, dear," Darby said over her shoulder. "Haven't you, Mr. Marlow?"
"Yeah. Yes, I have."
Darby looked at him, shaking her head.
"Well, we can't help what they print."
"No," Darby said, watching him knowingly. "We can't, can we?"
Raising her hand, she gestured casually to the envelope on the table. Darby's name and address were printed in block letters on the front. It was postmarked San Francisco, but Jade was reluctant to attach too much importance to that, given that Allander had already proved that he was mobile.
"So you think he sent it? The eyeliner. Another image of repression? Makeup. Reminds me of Glenn Close smearing the makeup off her face in that movie. What was that movie?"
"Dangerous Liaisons," Thomas called from the sink.
"Dangerous Liaisons," she repeated.
"Why do you think it has to do with repression?" Jade asked.
"Why did you steal the carving from our bathroom?"
The question caught him off guard. "I didn't quite steal it," he said slowly. "I just took it to examine."
"Yes, yes. Police business. I understand. My child is a killer so we no longer have the rights that ordinary citizens can expect. Freedom. Privacy. The right to our own property." Her voice rose. "We have guards around all the time-walking through the yard, peering in the windows."
Thomas dropped the salad in the sink and watched her, concern spreading across his face.
"It's fine, Mr. Marlow. I'm used to it. About twenty years of people looking at me with… with those eyes. 'From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept a hell-hound that doth hunt us all to death,'" she said in a purposefully deepened and dramatic voice. She was speaking loudly, louder than Jade had heard her speak before.
She laughed, then slid her hands down around her lower stomach, giving them an emphatic shake. "'The bed of death,'" she said quietly.
Thomas walked over to her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders.
"Shakespeare?" Jade asked.
Darby nodded. "I used to read the plays to Allander when he was younger. I don't usually remember quotations, Mr. Marlow, but I've learned that one really well." Her eyes lowered to the tablecloth and she played with one of her nails.
Thomas rubbed her shoulders, leaning over her.
"So you took the carving." She gestured to the room around her. "It's okay. Everything's public property. How I punished my child, how I talked to him, when I stopped breast-feeding. Do you know what the mothers of most murderers are like? Do you know what it's like to have everything assessed, Mr. Marlow? Do you?"
The sharpness of her words carried around the kitchen for a while. A tear escaped from Thomas's eye and he wiped it away.
Jade cleared his throat and looked at her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."
She reached out her hand and placed it on his arm. "It's okay," she said. "I'm sorry. That was unfair. What can we do? Just tell us what we have to do."
Jade couldn't make himself meet her stare. It was a very uncomfortable feeling for him. He wasn't used to it at all. "Well, I'll be honest. I think he's coming for you and I'd like to make that possibility even more likely. In fact, I want to lure him. I'd like to pull some of your protection off and see if we can get him to move in."
She pursed her lips and nodded, as if she had been expecting this all along. "Will you remember your promise?"
Jade bit his lip in irritation. "Yes, but I hoped you might reconsider. I lost… he killed another family yesterday. A sixteen-year-old boy. It's only going to get worse."