“It was another time, another place,” Quinn said.
“But not another Zoe. She doesn’t necessarily fit your concept of her, Detective Quinn. You don’t really know her at all. I’m not sure I do. Like each of us, she’s many different people wrapped in the same skin.”
“I didn’t come here for psychobabble,” Quinn said, and moved closer to the desk.
Beeker didn’t react. “You don’t intimidate me, Detective Quinn.”
“I’m not interested in intimidating you. I’m simply telling you to delete the photos.”
“If Zoe calls me, I’ll do that. It’s a part of our former relationship that’s between the two of us.”
“If I don’t intimidate you, why are you agreeing to delete the photos?”
“I’ll delete them if Zoe requests it. Not you.”
“I’ll let you keep that distinction,” Quinn said.
“Our Zoe has sides to her you’ve never seen. As you have sides she’s unaware of. Wouldn’t you say that’s so, detective?”
“Not everyone goes around pretending to be what they aren’t,” Quinn said.
“You mean like a sexual deviant pretending to be a respectable Park Avenue psychiatrist? Overcompensating behavior used as a disguise? I’m not putting up any kind of defensive subterfuge, and neither is Zoe. The idea of either of us living secret lives is all in your mind. She posed for photographs often and willingly and knew what I was going to do with them. What we’ve done and photographed is all legal, Detective Quinn. You can check with the vice squad. Zoe and I were part of a club whose members share certain modes of impulse and behavior. It’s the other photographs that might worry you. The ones with the interesting props. They’re the real Zoe, too.”
Quinn was fighting to keep his temper, but at the same time was somewhat surprised. Beeker was taunting him now, daring him.
“The most outwardly respectable people are the most likely to have diametrically opposite components to their personalities, Detective. Surely you’ve noticed that. The reformers who consort with prostitutes, the Bible-thumpers who steal from the church, the gay-bashers who are latent homosexuals, the upright family men who are serial killers.” Beeker gave his slow smile again. “Then there is the healer of the mind, Zoe, who accepts and lives with her own various facets of self-identity. Her other sides, but not her secret sides.”
“I get it, already,” Quinn said. “We’re all two people.”
“No, no, no. We’re all many people. We simply have to accept and integrate our various selves. I help people to do that.” Beeker stood up behind his desk. “But if someone does have a secret self, Detective Quinn, you might do well to look for it as the opposite of their public self.” He walked out from behind the desk. “A zealous cop crusader, for instance, might also be a serial killer. Hasn’t that happened in our fair city?”
It had. And Quinn had been fooled by it too long and people had died. Beeker must know that.
“You seem to have researched me,” Quinn said.
“Somewhat. I’m interested in whoever’s interested in Zoe. As you are. Why pretend otherwise?”
“I do believe you’re practicing your dark art on me, Doctor.”
“I specialize in dialectical behavior therapy, Detective Quinn. It requires the cooperation of the patient. I don’t believe you’re capable of that.”
Quinn knew it was time to go. He hadn’t come here to physically assault Beeker, but things were moving in that direction.
He moved toward the door. “Delete the photos, Dr. Beeker.”
“Have Zoe call me.”
“You’re a stubborn one.”
“Notice I’m not the type,” Beeker said.
The slow smile was forming as Quinn turned away.
Quinn was perspiring when he left Beeker’s office. He knew he’d lost a round, and he didn’t like it.
He didn’t like it that there were more, and more explicit, photographs of Zoe. He didn’t like what Dr. Beeker had told him, which was, in effect, the same thing Helen Iman had told him about contradictory behavior.
If they were right about reformers, Bible-thumpers, and gay-bashers, were they right about serial killers?
And weren’t serial killers supposed to be his area of expertise?
65
Renz had Quinn, Pearl, Fedderman, and Helen the profiler in his office. The door was locked, and Renz had left word not to be disturbed unless it was urgent.
When everyone was more or less settled, Renz sat down behind his waxed and uncluttered desk. “I have an idea,” he said.
Quinn was seated in one of the chairs facing the desk. He could think of several things to say to Renz’s statement, but he chose the relatively safe, “And you want to try it out on us.”
“Exactly,” Renz said. “I will say before I go into it that Helen approves.”
“I think it might work,” Helen said.
“Helen thinks, and I think,” Renz said to Quinn, “that the killer sees you, even wants you, as his opponent. The bond that sometimes forms between serial killers and the lead detectives who pursue them is strong here. We think we can take advantage of it. We want to place a letter from you to the killer in the newspapers—City Beat first, of course—in which you taunt the killer. I think we know how he’ll react.” Renz glanced at Helen, as if they’d rehearsed this and she’d missed her cue.
“We think he’ll challenge you,” Helen said. “And in some manner give himself away.”
“And if he doesn’t give anything away?” Pearl asked.
“Then it’s up to Quinn whether to accept the challenge.”
“If the killer’s smart,” Quinn said, “he’ll simply ignore the letter.”
“He’s smart and mentally ill,” Helen said.
“When do you want this letter?” Quinn asked.
Renz leaned over his desk, a folded slip of paper extended in his right hand. “With Helen’s help, I’ve already written it.”
Quinn accepted the paper and looked at it.
To the one who kills from shadows and secrecy:
It is time for honorable men to stop the wave of murder that is washing over the city. But there is only one man who—if honorable and a man—can stop it. The .25-Caliber Killer must come forward. The fact that he cooperated will be considered in his sentencing. If he ignores this opportunity, when my hunt for him ends as it must, he will feel the full weight of the law.
Captain Frank Quinn
“It’s not so much a taunt,” Quinn said, “as an offer of a deal.”
“Believe me,” Helen said, “he’ll consider it a taunt, and he’ll respond as he must. There’s always the chance that unforeseen circumstances might interfere with this plan, but the psychology of it is sound.”
“And if he doesn’t respond,” Renz said, “we’ve lost nothing. Those are the kind of odds I like.”
“You’re not the one taunting a maniac with a gun,” Pearl said.
Quinn gave her a look that was obviously meant as a caution signal, but Pearl saw green lights where others saw red.
“The letter doesn’t mention the Slicer,” Quinn said.
“We’re trying to appeal only to the hunter side of the killer,” Helen said. “The sportsman with a code. That’s the part of him that will respond to the letter.”
“It isn’t in our contract with the city that we fight duels,” Pearl said.
“It would be more like a hunt,” Helen said. “That’s the point.”