Jonathan Kellerman - Alex 10 - The Web

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Jonathan Kellerman - Alex 10 - The Web Page 23

by The Web(Lit)


  "I thought you believed the killer had moved on."

  "Perhaps he left and returned. Corpsmen fly in and out all the time. A look at Navy flight records would be instructive, but try obtaining them. There's more than one kind of barricade, Alex."

  "You said Dennis never discovered any similar murders during the interim."

  "That's true. As far as it goes. But some of the places in the region I've heard there's a restaurant in Bangkok that serves human flesh. Perhaps apocryphal, perhaps not. But there's no doubt things go on that we never hear about."

  He rubbed his head.

  "Aruk has been abandoned, but I won't abandon Ben."

  "Does Senator Hoffman also have a vested interest in Aruk's decline?" I said.

  "Most probably, strip away the veneer of political correctness and you've got a strip-mall builder."

  "In cahoots with someone like Creedman's employer Stasher Layman

  "The thought has occurred to me."

  "Creedman's an advance man?"

  "I've thought about that, too."

  "At dinner, Creedman and Hoffman acted as if they didn't know each other. But during the discussion of colonialism, Creedman rushed to defend Hoffman's point of view."

  "The fool." He looked ready to spit.

  "That book of his. No one's ever seen it and he won't be pinned down on details. Why else would Hoffman invite him to that abysmal dinner? Nicholas does nothing without a reason."

  "Have you found any connection between Hoffman and Stasher-Layman?"

  "Not yet, but we mustn't get distracted. We must focus on Ben."

  "When Ben caught Creedman snooping, what was Creedman after?"

  "I have no idea. There's nothing to hide."

  "What about the Anne Marie Valdos file? And not necessarily for nefarious reasons. Creedman's the one who told me about the murder. Said you did the autopsy, had the details. He sounded regretful. Maybe he smelled a good story."

  "No. As much as I'd like to attribute something malicious to him, he was snooping before Anne Marie murder. Now let's-' "One more thing: after you came back from speaking to Hoffman alone, you looked dejected. Why?"

  "He refused to help Aruk."

  "Is that the only reason?"

  "That's not enough?"

  "I just wondered if there was some personal issue between the two of you."

  He sat straighter. Stood and smiled.

  "Oh, there is. We dislike each other immensely. But that's ancient history, and I simply can't allow myself to be drawn into nostalgia. I acted stupidly with Dennis and now I'm persona non grata. But he may allow you to speak to Ben. Please call the police station tomorrow and ask his permission. If he grants it, use your professional skills to offer Ben psychological support. He's living a nightmare."

  He came around and rested a hand on my shoulder, "Please, Alex."

  We hadn't gotten into his lie about being part of the Marshall Islands compensation, the nighttime boat rides. And he'd avoided explaining his reaction to Pam and Dennis's friendship. But the look in his eyes told me I'd taken things as far as I could tonight.

  Maybe there'd be another opportunity. Or maybe I'd be off Aruk before it mattered.

  "All right," I said.

  "But let's get something straight: I'll give Ben the benefit of the doubt till the forensics come in. Unless I get into that cell and he tells me he murdered Betty or Anne Marie

  That happens, I'll march straight into Dennis's office and swear out a statement."

  He walked away from me and faced the wall. One of the watercolors was at eye level. Palms over the beach. Not unlike the one where Barbara Moreland had drowned.

  Delicate strokes, washed-out hues. No people. A loneliness so intense...

  "I accept your conditions," he said.

  "I'm glad to have you on my side."

  25. As we left for the house, he noticed a fat-petaled white flower and started to describe its pollination.

  "Oh, shut up," he told himself abruptly, and we continued in silence.

  Inside, he gripped my hand.

  "Thank you for your help."

  I watched him walk away quickly. Energized?

  A man who studied predation.

  Where had he come from the night I'd seen him with his doctor's bag? What had he been doing in the dark lab?

  I'd phone the police station in the morning, but my first two calls would be to the airport at Saipan and the company that chartered the supply boats.

  Upstairs, Spike's bark greeted me as I entered our suite. Robin wasn't back yet from talking with Pam. Four-fifty A.M. Someone else I might be able to reach.

  The connection broke a few times before I finally got an international line. Wondering if anyone could listen in and deciding I didn't care, I told the desk officer at the West

  L.A. station that I had urgent business with Detective Sturgis.

  He said, Yeah, I think he's here."

  A minute or so later, Milo barked his own name.

  "Stanley? It's Livingstone."

  "Hey," he said, 'buena afternuna it's got to be what, five in the morning over there?"

  "Just about."

  "What's up?"

  "A bit of trouble."

  "Another cannibal?"

  "As a matter of fact..."

  "Shit, I was kidding. What the hell's going on?"

  I told him about Betty's murder and everything else that had been on my mind.

  "Jesus," he said.

  "After you told me about the first one, I got curious, so I played with the computers. Thankfully, cannibalism hasn't caught on big-time. Other than that Milwaukee moron only thing I came up with was a ten-year-old case, place called Wiggsburg, Maryland. Didn't sound that different from yours neck slash, organ theft, legs cracked for the marrow but they caught the bad guys, pair of eighteen-year-olds who decided Lucifer was their main man, he ordered them to carve up and dine on a local topless dancer."

  Where are they now?"

  "Jail, I assume. They were sentenced to life. Why?"

  "There are two guys here who would have been around eighteen back then. They like to cut things up and they've been eyeing Robin."

  "But they're not suspects in the killing."

  "No, Ben does look good for it. But do you have the Maryland killers' names and descriptions, just to be thorough?"

  "Got the fax right here... Wayne Lee Burke, Keith William Bonham, both caucs, brown and brown. Burke was six three, one seventy, Bonham five five, one fifty-two. Appendectomy-'

  'I don't need any more, it doesn't match."

  "No big surprise. Things have gotten nuts but I don't see lads who suck out a young lady's bone marrow qualifying for early parole."

  "How far is Wiggsburg from Washington, D.C.?"

  "About an hour's drive. Why?"

  "There's another guy, here, D.C. background, also creepy." I filled him in on Creedman.

  "Sounds like a prince," he said.

  "Yeah, I've heard of Slasher Layman 'cause they built public housing projects years ago in South Central, while I was riding a car at seventy-seventh Division. Bad plumbing, gang members hired to handle security.

  Immediate problems. They sold the management contract, then bailed. Had a deal to build a new jail, too, out in Antelope Valley, till the locals found out about their record, protested, and got it kaboshed. So what are they planning to build over there?"

  "I don't know."

  "Not that it has anything to do with cannibals... so what's Dr. Frankenstein's reaction to his protege's predilection for intra species feasting?"

  "Total denial. Ben was his project rehabilitating a kid with a rotten background. Be interesting to know if that background includes any serious criminal activity Moreland didn't mention. If you've a mind to go back to the computer."

  "Sure, give me the particulars."

  "Benjamin Romero, I don't know if there's a middle name.

  He's thirty or so, born here, went to school in Hawaii and did
Coast Guard duty there. Trained as a registered nurse."

  "I'" have a go at it. How's Robin handling all this?"

  "She's a trooper but I want out. The next boats are due in around five days. If Chief Laurent allows us off the island, we'll be on one of them."

  "Why shouldn't he let you off?"

  "Public opinion of Moreland and everything associated with him isn't too high right now. We're all under informal house arrest."

  "Damned inconsiderate, not to say illegal. Want me to have a little cop-to-cop chat with him?"

  "From what I saw tonight, that might make things worse.

  Moreland tried to influence him and he hardened his stance."

  "Maybe that's cause he's pissed at Moreland - "Not with my daughter, you don't."" "Maybe, but I'll try to handle it myself first. If I have problems, believe me, you'll hear about it."

  "Okay... bugs and cannibals. Sounds almost as bad as Hollywood Boulevard."

  Feeling rancid, I showered. Robin returned as I was toweling off, and I summarized my talks with Moreland and Milo and told her I wanted to book us on the next boat out.

  She said, "It's too bad it had to end this way, but absolutely." She sat down on the bed.

  "What was that construction company?"

  "Stasher-Layman."

  "I think Jo had something with their name on it in her room.

  Stack of computer printout I assumed it was something to do with her research. The only reason it sticks in my mind is that when she saw me looking at it, she slid a book over it."

  "How sure are you it was Stasher Layman?"

  "Very big Gothic initials "S-L," then the name. I read it just before she covered it."

  An artist's eye.

  "Jo and Creedman," I said.

  "Two people with D.C. connections.

  Two advance agents. I've had a weird feeling about her since the roaches. I didn't tell you because I thought I was just being paranoid, but I couldn't stop thinking that she was alone in the house that night. And the time lag between hearing your scream and coming in seemed odd. She excused it as drowsiness due to sleeping pills, but tonight she was out there before us, lucid as hell. Motive stumped me, but if she's doing dirty work for

  Stasher-Layman and wants to get rid of distractions, that would serve nicely."

  "But then why not hide her gun, Alex? She kept it right out there on top of her suitcase, almost as if she wanted me to know she had it."

  "Maybe she did. Trying to intimidate you."

  "It didn't seem that way. There was absolutely no hostility between us. In fact, the more time I spent with her, the friendlier she got. As if I was helping her cope."

  And cope she had. Tranquilized widow to sharp-eyed interrogator in two days.

  I said, "She sure had an interest in the murder. Did you notice the way she was quizzing Moreland? That would also make sense if she's got an interest in Aruk's decline."

  "But if this company builds things, why would they want Aruk to decline?"

  "Moreland said they build government projects. Milo's memory backs that up: low-income housing, prisons. Maybe they want the land cheap."

  "Low-income housing doesn't make sense," she said, 'if the people are all leaving. But a prison might."

  "Yes, it might," I said.

  "No locals to protest. And what better place to dump felons than a remote island with no natural resources. It would be politically beautiful. Which is where Hoffman may fit in. What if Stasher-Layman paid him under the table to find a site and he chose Aruk because he remembered it from his days as base commander, knew there wasn't much of a constituency? If he embedded the prison, or whatever it is, in an extensive Pacific Rim revitalization cash infusion for the bigger islands who'd notice or mind? Other than Bill. But right now Bill's in a position to cause troubles for the deal because he owns so much of the island. Which could be the real reason Hoffman stopped over: making a final offer that Bill refused. So Hoffman pressured him, maybe threatened him with something."

  "Threatened him with what?"

  "I don't know, but remember my feeling they had some issue between them that went way back? The first night I met Bill he said something about guilt being a great motivator. He could have done something years ago that he wants to forget. Something he's been trying to atone for all these years by being "the good doctor."" She touched my arm.

  "Alex, if he is holding up a giant deal he could be in serious danger. Do you think he's aware of what he's up against?"

  "I don't know what he's aware of and what he chooses to deny. The man's a cipher and he's stubborn."

  "What about Pam? As his heir, she could also be in a treacherous position."

  "If she's his heir."

  "Why wouldn't she be?"

  "Because she has no roots in Aruk, and Bill seems to view the island as his real child. He's excluded Pam from scientific discussion and just about everything else. You saw her surprise when he discussed Ben's family history. She's an outsider. So it wouldn't surprise me if he bequeathed his holdings to someone else. Someone with a strong commitment to Aruk."

  She stared at me.

  "Ben?"

  "In some ways he's Bill's functional son."

  "And being accused of murder gets him out of the way."

  "Sure, but nothing I've heard indicates he's not a murderer.

  In fact everything Bill told me just added to the picture of guilt: access to the weapon, Betty's medical records, and Anne Marie autopsy file. And remember our discussion about his being a hard guy? No sympathy for Picker's crash. The way he vaccinated those children, mechanically. Add alcoholism and a rotten childhood and you've got a pretty good textbook history of a psychopath. Maybe even his outward devotion to Bill and the island is calculated. Maybe he's just after Bill's money."

  "Maybe... Yes, he is dispassionate. But he sat there tonight at dinner with us, Alex, and I thought I saw a warmer side of him. As if Claire'd brought out something in him."

  "Could be acting. Psychopaths can turn it on at will."

  "You really think he could have been so lighthearted while planning to murder someone in a few hours? Planning to mutilate someone?"

  "If he's a severe psychopath, he's got an extremely low level of anxiety. For all we know, sitting here listening to Claire play was part of the thrill."

  "Are you saying he killed both girls or just Betty?"

  "It could go either way. Anne Marie could have been murdered by a sailor and Ben decided to do a copycat as a cover."

  "But why?"

  "He and Betty could have been having an affair. Maybe the baby was his, he wanted out, permanently. When I talked to her, she seemed thrilled about the pregnancy; but who knows?"

  "If he was so calculating, Alex, how'd he get caught so stupidly?"

  "Screwing up's another psychopathic trait. Look at Bundy, escaping from Washington, where there's no death penalty, and murdering in Florida, where there is. Psychopaths walk a narrow line, all screwed up inside, constantly putting on a show. A psychiatrist named Cleckley labeled it perfectly: the mask of sanity. Eventually the mask falls off and shatters. Ben used booze to get rid of his."

  She shuddered.

  "It's still hard to make sense of. I can see using alcohol to lower his inhibitions. But why stick around and get drunk after killing Betty?"

  "It's possible he drank a little before meeting Betty, to take the edge off, had some more with Betty, killed her before the total effect set in, then boom. Bill said he'd always drunk beer. Vodka could have been too much to handle."

  "I guess so," she said, rubbing her eyes.

  "But he always seemed decent. I suppose I sound like one of those people who get interviewed on the news: he was such a quiet guy... well, at least the part about whose baby Betty was carrying can be tested. Who's doing the medical investigation?"

  "Dennis is bringing a lawyer over from Saipan. I assume he'll call for a pathologist, too."

  She leaned against me heavily. What a hor
ror."

  "How's Pam taking it?"

  "At first she talked mostly about Bill worried about him.

  Wanting to help, but feeling he pushes her away."

  "He does."

 

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