But she was afraid to.
"Think you might like that?" she asked.
Her heart was suddenly pounding again.
"Killing someone while you were laying her?"
He looked deep into her eyes as though searching for something there.
"Not if she knew it was going to happen," he said.
And suddenly she knew for certain that he was their man, and there was no postponing what would happen tonight.
He looked up at the clock.
"Time's up," he said. "Let's go outside."
CHAPTER 12
The call to the squadroom came at twenty minutes to one. The call came from Monoghan, who was in a phone booth on the edge of the River Dix. He asked to talk to either Brown or Genero. Willis told him Brown and Genero were both out.
"So who's this?" Monoghan asked.
"Willis."
"What I got here," Monoghan said, "is a head and a pair of hands. These guys dragging the river turned up this aluminum case, like it's big enough to hold a man's head. And his hands. So that's what I got here. A head cut off at the neck, and a pair of hands cut off at the wrists."
"Uh-huh," Willis said.
"So earlier tonight I was with Brown and Genero back out behind this restaurant the Burgundy, and what we had there was the upper part of a torso in a garbage can, is what we had. And I got a head and a pair of hands, and it occurred to me this might be the same body here, this head and hands."
"Uh-huh," Willis said.
"So what I want to know, does Brown or Genero have a positive make on the stiff? 'Cause otherwise we now got a head to look at, and also some hands to print."
"Let me take a look at Brown's desk," Willis said. "I think he left some stuff here."
"Yeah, go take a look," Monoghan said.
"Hold on," Willis said.
"Yeah."
"Hold on, I'm putting you on hold."
"Yeah, fine," Monoghan said.
Willis pressed the hold button, and then went over to Brown's desk. He riffled through the papers there, and then stabbed at the lighted extension button, and picked up the receiver.
"Monoghan?"
"Yeah."
"From what I can gather, the body was identified as someone named Frank Sebastiani, male, white, thirty-four years old."
"That's what I got here, a white male around that age."
"I've got a picture here, too," Willis said.
"Whyn't you run on over with it?" Monoghan said. "We see we got the same stiff or not."
"Where are you?"
"Freezing my ass off on the drive here. Near the river."
"Which river?"
"The Dix."
"And where?"
"Hampton."
"Give me ten minutes," Willis said.
"Don't forget the picture," Monoghan said.
The apartment over the garage was perhaps twelve-feet wide by twenty-feet long. There was a neatly made double bed in the room, and a dresser with a mirror over it, and an upholstered chair with a lamp behind it. The wall surrounding the mirror was covered with pictures of naked women snipped from men's magazines banned in 7-Eleven stores. All of the women were blondes. Like Marie Sebastiani. In the bottom drawer of the dresser, under a stack of Brayne's shirts, the detectives found a pair of crotchless black panties. The panties were a size five.
"Think they're Brayne's?" Hawes asked drily.
"What size you think the lady wears?" Brown asked.
"Could be a five," Hawes said, and shrugged.
"I thought you were an expert."
"Onbras I'm an expert."
Men's socks, undershorts, sweaters, handkerchiefs in the other dresser drawers. Two sports jackets, several pairs of slacks, a suit, an overcoat, and three pairs of shoes in the single small closet. There was also a suitcase in the closet. Nothing in it. No indication anywhere in the apartment that Brayne had packed and taken off in a hurry. Even his razor and shaving cream were still on the sink in the tiny bathroom.
A tube of lipstick was in the cabinet over the sink.
Brown took off the top.
"Look like the lady's shade?" he asked Hawes. "Pretty careless if it's her, leavin' her o.c.p.'s in the dresser and her hellip;"
"Herwhat ?"
"Her open-crotch panties."
"Oh."
"You think she was dumb enough to be makin' it with him right here in this room?"