She was surprised to see Susan Pulaski leading the press conference. Given how severely-and repeatedly-Pulaski had blundered in this case, Esther was surprised to find her still employed at all, much less used in such a public capacity. Just as well, though. There was no chance of her cracking the codes Esther had devised.
She turned up the volume so she could hear what the pathetic woman had to say.
"…but the most important thing is that we not start a panic. Yes, we have a killer in our midst, but if we're all careful, we can remain safe. She has never attacked anyone who is not a native of this city and there is no reason to believe that she will start now. On the other hand, if you have ever had any dealings with the Department of Human Services, or for any other reason might fall under this woman's twisted notion of what constitutes a bad parent, you need to take precautions. Stay home. Don't talk to strangers. Don't be alone, especially in your place of work. We'll be broadcasting the most recent pictures of her that we've been able to find, but this woman is smart enough to alter her appearance."
Wait a minute-did that Pulaski woman use the word "twisted"? Was it twisted to hold parents accountable for their wrongdoing? To punish those who committed atrocities on their young, who took advantage of them, abused them? Why would they even want to stop her? Why not let her take out the whole sorry lot of them?
Pulaski was fielding questions now, as best she was able when she knew basically nothing. A handsome reporter named Jonathan Wooley with a brown and gray goatee was grilling her. "Why hasn't the LVPD captured her? Why did the federal government have to send in assistance? What are the taxpayers getting for their money?"
"I assure you the LVPD has been giving this case its top priority, sir." An edge crept into Pulaski's voice, discernible and probably calculated. "If I may remind you, one of our own became the killer's fifth victim. A personal friend of mine." Pulaski was silent for a moment. "We are doing everything within our power. And we have captured the man who committed most of the murders."
"But not the mastermind of the whole operation."
Another significant pause. "No. But we will. Please bear in mind that, despite her delusional state, Dr. Esther Goldstein is intelligent and she has planned her crimes well in advance, very carefully. Nonetheless, we will catch her. And as for the involvement of the federal government, that's standard procedure in cases involving multiple murders. In no sense does it constitute an indictment of the LVPD. We've worked together before and we will no doubt-"
Esther stopped listening. Delusional state? Did that cheap harlot third-rate psychologist-a woman who didn't even have her doctorate!-actually have the audacity to say Esther was in a delusional state? What was wrong with these people? They should be applauding her efforts. She was stamping out the parents that destroyed children's lives. Was that delusional? Would Susan Pulaski find it so delusional if she had been raped by her father, her foster parents, if the courts had never listened to her, just sent her back again and again and again? Would she still Something on the television screen caught her eye. A young man was standing behind Susan, staring at the floor.
It was the same kid she had brought with her when she came to the university-what was his name? David? Dwayne? No-Darcy. Darcy O'Bannon. The chief of police's son. He was the numbers whiz, the one who whipped through the continuing fractions most of her graduate students couldn't handle correctly, even though he'd never had any experience or training in the field. That was the answer! That must be how they were able to follow her clues, to solve the equations, to understand the secrets of the Kabbalah that guided her actions. That idiot savant was guiding their pathetic efforts to catch her.
If the final piece of the Sefirot were to be destroyed as planned, if the final piece of this majestic plan were to work, Darcy O'Bannon would have to be eliminated.
She turned off the television and logged onto the Internet. She hated to add a new factor to the plan this late in the game, with as little time left. But given all that was at stake, it would be worth the effort.
40
"Where's Darcy?" I asked, when I didn't see him outside the conference room.
"Who cares?" Granger replied, with his usual touching concern. "Can't you do anything without that kid?"
"I don't want to consult with him. I want to know where he is." This was odd. Just before the press conference, he'd been threatening to stick with me until we caught Esther. I knew he'd come into the press conference room. So where was he now?
"Last I saw him," Granger said, "you were about halfway through the conference." He was tight-lipped, downright sullen. Probably still sulking because O'Bannon chose me to do the press conference instead of him.
"And he left? While I was talking?"
Granger shrugged. "Looked like he thought of something he'd forgotten. Or maybe saw something, someone. I don't know. Anyway, he started flapping his hands and then he ran out the back door."
"That doesn't make any sense. Why would he-"
"Have either of you seen Darcy?"
Granger and I both slowly pivoted to the left. Chief O'Bannon was asking the question.
"No," I answered.
"You got him on some…math quest or something?"
"No, nothing. I expected him to be here. Why?"
"Got a call from one of my neighbors. She's known Darcy since the day he was born. Says she heard some kind of commotion next door."
I felt an icy grip at the base of my spine.
"It's nothing," I said, sounding just as unconvincing as I felt. "You know how unpredictable Darcy is. Probably saw a rare species of butterfly or something."
The crease in O'Bannon's forehead deepened. "Is there any chance…any at all…"
I didn't need super-empathy to know where he was going. "Darcy doesn't fit the profile. Esther only kills bad parents."
"Tucker did his damnedest to take you out. Darcy was with you when you interviewed Goldstein."
My throat went dry. I felt shaky, anxious, barely able to breathe. Darcy!
"But why now?" Granger asked. "That interview was-" He snapped his fingers. "The press conference. She must've seen him at the press conference!"
"And then she realized how we've managed to decode all her little mathematical puzzles," I added somberly.
O'Bannon didn't waste a second. "Amanda! I want an APB out on my son. Now! Granger, mobilize every man you have available and-"
There was more, but I didn't hear it. I was already halfway to my car. I wanted to dig into my purse, wanted to pull out the pill bottle that would make the acidic aching eating away at my stomach lining go away. But I didn't. That was how I missed Esther the first time. I couldn't let it happen again. Darcy needed me. All of me, everything I had to give.
I just prayed to God I wasn't too late.
"Hello, Darcy," Esther said. "Remember me?"
He was standing in the kitchen holding a book and a folded piece of paper. He picked up a package of Pizza Hut chicken wings from the counter, tossed them into the microwave oven, then started it.
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
He looked at her strangely. "I thought you might be hungry."
She laughed at him. "Idiot savant. Mostly idiot. Do you remember who I am?"
"Of course. I remember the way you smell. The sound of your shoes. You are the Math Lady."
"Yes, I am," she said, smiling slightly. "What else do you know about me?"
"You made all those nice people die."
"They weren't nice people, Darcy."
"I do not think anyone is so bad they should get killed." His hands flapped wildly in the air. "I do not think people should kill each other. Killing is bad." Darcy didn't make eye contact with her. Instead, he sat down on the hardwood floor and crouched in a fetal position, arms around his legs, and rocked back and forth.
"I brought you some more math puzzles. You like puzzles, don't you?"
"Stay away from me. Please stay away from me."
She moved
closer. "You don't have to hold yourself, Darcy. Here, let me hold you."
"No!" He scooted away from her. "I do not like for people to hold me. I do not like for people to touch me!"
"Oh, nonsense. You'll change your mind when you see what I have for you."
"I will not. Stay away from me!"
"I can't, Darcy. A smart boy like you, so gifted with numbers. You deserve a reward."
"A reward? Do you mean a treat? I like treats."
"All right, then. We'll call it a treat." She reached inside her Wind-breaker and removed a large serrated knife. "I can't let you spoil my plans, Darcy, but I can let you become an important part of them." She smiled. "Come closer, dear. I have something very special for you."
41
"Hurry! I shouted without moving my lips as I barreled down the highway. I'd heard of backseat drivers before, but this was the first time I'd ever experienced being a backseat driver to myself. I careened through the neighborhood gateposts and tore down the road at a speed that sent trash, leaves, and a few small animals flying out of my path.
Even before I arrived at the O'Bannon residence, I could hear the alarm.
Some of the neighbors were gathered outside, huddled on the front lawn. "We tried to get in there," one of them shouted at me. "But we didn't have a key."
I didn't have a key, either, but thanks to Chief O'Bannon, I did have a gun. Three shots were enough to get the door open. I raced inside, throwing caution to the wind. I didn't have time to stealthily creep into each room, gun poised. I had to find Darcy.
"Darcy!" I shouted. "Darcy? Where are you?"
No answer.
Okay, think, I told myself. Calm down and think. Someone or something set off the alarm. So logically, he must have been here.
Or someone else was here. Or both.
I like to think of myself as an optimist, but even I couldn't kid myself that much. I knew what would happen if Esther, the cold-blooded mastermind behind half a dozen murders, were alone with Darcy, the boy who couldn't step on a spider. Darcy wouldn't stand a chance.
"Darcy!" I screeched, so loud it made my throat hurt. "Are you here?"
I knew from the time when I'd stayed here with him where all his favorite hiding spots were, nooks and crannies where he huddled when he was experiencing sensory overload. He wasn't in any of them.
I checked in the library, upstairs, downstairs, his room, the backyard. I was running at the speed of light, sending my heart into palpitations. I was certain he wasn't here. And that meant she hadn't killed him, right? Because if she had, I would have found the No. Not with this killer. She never left the corpses behind. Just pieces.
I found blood smeared on the wall about a foot off the floor in the entryway just beyond the front door. Enough to tell me someone was hurt.
Tears flooded my eyes. That goddamned The worst of it was, it was my fault. Again. Why had I brought him with me? Why had I let him come to the press conference? Why had I involved him in the case at all? Why had I been so doped up I couldn't spot a serial killer when I stared her in the face?
It was my fault, all the way. My fault.
Darcy! Esther gripped the steering wheel of her car and made her way downtown. That had been…unpleasant. But it didn't matter now. Her opportunity was at hand. She knew when she would be able to get in and out, to do what needed to be done…and then retreat and wait for the excitement to begin. The screaming of the sinners. The wailing of the worthless.
Till God came begging, crawling on His hands and knees. Begging her for forgiveness.
She parked her car just outside the courthouse. Nothing could stop her now. Nothing at all. "
Are you sure he isn't there?" Granger barked over his cell phone.
"Positive. Send your men somewhere else. Interview the neighbors. Go to the day care center where he works. Someone must know something."
"I'm concerned about the clock, Susan. If your theory is correct, that killer is going to strike-"
"Never mind that, dammit." I talked while I raced to my car. "I'm going to get back to the office and see if I can find any trace of him. Or Esther. It's possible she took him captive." I said it, even though I didn't believe it. She had no reason to do anything other than kill him. "You work the other end of the equation. Find Darcy."
"I've pulled every man available onto this, but I can't justify anything more when we think the killer is about to strike."
"Granger, goddamn it, listen to me. Darcy comes first!"
"Susan, you're not being rational. According to your own report, her next attack could be a large-scale assault. I can't justify chasing one kid-"
"If you don't, Granger, so help me, I'll rip your fucking balls off!"
"You're a psycho, Pulaski."
"Granger-" I clamped my jaw shut. How many times would I have to try this approach with Granger before I realized it didn't work? I lowered my voice. "Granger…please. This is important. To the chief and to me. Find Darcy."
"I can't-"
"Do it for me," I blurted out, even though I felt like a fool. "Please. Do it for me."
"Why the hell should I?"
"Because…I think there was a time when you liked me. At least a little. And I know you liked David."
"Don't start-"
"Please, Granger," I whispered. "Find my Darcy." I snapped the cell phone closed and slid behind the wheel of my car.
He jumped out of the backseat so suddenly that I practically had a stroke. "Am I really your Darcy?"
"Darcy! Darcy! My God, Darcy!" I couldn't help myself, and I didn't care if he liked it or not. I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight. "Darcy! Oh, thank God you're safe."
He didn't hug back, but he wasn't resisting, either. "So when you called me your Darcy, does that mean you are ready to adopt me?"
I could barely speak. "Damn it, Darcy…I'll do anything you want me to do. Just…don't ever do that again."
"Do what? Did I do something bad? Can we go back to the part where I was your Darcy?"
I laughed and cried and choked and in the end just contented myself with hugging him so tightly it might not have been possible for him to breathe. "What have you been doing? Did you see Esther?"
"Oh, yes. She tried to kill me," he said, with the same inflection I might use to say, "She tried to sell me a new life insurance policy." "But she did not kill me."
"I can see that," I said, still laughing and crying hysterically. "So where the hell have you been?"
"I went home. Then I hid in my neighbor's yard. Then, when I saw your car, I came back. And," he added, "I saw the Math Lady. But I got away."
"You-" I was fighting mightily to stay in control, keep my blood pressure down, and try to figure out what the hell happened. "But there was blood!"
"That was hers, not mine. I went home to get a book on Fibonacci numbers. Did you know that Fibonacci numbers are the most fascinating-"
"Stick to your story, Darcy."
"I knew the book by heart. But I wanted to prove it to you."
"Yes, yes. What happened when you saw the-I mean, Esther?"
"It was not a big deal," he said, shrugging. His modesty might be irritating, if I didn't know how unaware he was that he was doing anything. "When I saw her, I put some chicken wings in the microwave, but I left the aluminum foil in the box and started the oven. I knew that would start a fire." He looked down sheepishly. "Because I did it before."
"I know. I put it out, remember? What happened next?"
"I sat down on the floor and acted like I was scared and waited. A big fire came out of the oven, and the alarm went off, and I ran from the Math Lady with the knife. She shut off the microwave and put out the fire, and while she was doing it, I ran outside and hid. I did not mean to hurt her. I do not like to hurt anyone. But when I ran past her she tried to stab me so I dodged away from her and she fell and banged her forehead."
"The blood," I murmured. "Foreheads bleed profusely, even from a minor cut. But-are you tellin
g me you went home just to get some book?"
"Yes. On Fibonacci numbers."
"And what have you been doing ever since?"
"Working out the math," he said, beaming from ear-to-ear. "I know where she's going to go next. I thought that we could stop her maybe, you and me. If we are not too late."
42
"How can you know where she's going to strike?"
"From the math. When I got away from her, she shouted that it didn't matter, because she would make it all be over at four o'clock."
Four o'clock? I glanced at my watch. Less than thirty minutes.
"I got a map, too."
"Map? I thought you said 'math'? I don't get it."
"That is because you do not understand Fibonacci numbers."
I thumbed through the book Darcy thrust into my hands. "Rabbi Hoffman mentioned these. What on earth are they?"
"Did you know that the numbers followed a pattern? Do you see the pattern?"
"What numbers?"
"The numbers where she made all the bodies be placed." He pointed to a string of numbers typed on the first page: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233, 377…"See? The third number is the sum of the first two, the fourth is the sum of the second and third, the fifth is the sum of-"
"Okay, I get the idea." I stared at the chain of numbers, as if there was any chance they might speak to me. "Do these numbers have some…religious significance?"
Darcy's head tilted slightly. I could almost see the gears turning. "I do not know about that. But this sequence occurs throughout nature, and God created nature, right?"
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