"Your friend killed a man,
Reeves," said the County Prosecutor, leaning back in the swivel chair. "His girlfriend admits Boyd didn't
pull the knife until he was being choked. We can't call it self-defense."
"You know what Boyd was, Sir. You're sending him to jail on a technicality."
"The law is
technicality, and I've taken an oath to enforce it. Boyd may have deserved what happened, but by definition he was a
victim of unlawful homicide. The best I can do for Carter is to go for second degree and ask for the minimum sentence."
"What if we prove Boyd killed Rose Ford?"
392.
"It's not even mitigating circumstances because
it's not directly related to the crime."
"I
can't believe you're going to prosecute him."
"I've
taken an oath."
"Where the hell's the justice?"
fumed JR as he got up to leave.
"We don't have
courts of justice, Reeves. Just courts of law."
"Well I'm not going to just let this happen. I'm going
to track down the lock this fits," he said, holding up a copy of an unidentified key found on Boyd's key ring.
"That's probably just an old key he failed to get rid of."
"There was almost nothing
in his apartment. Doctor Senter says that's not consistent with his profile. She says these guys keep a stash
of souvenirs. This is door key. I'm going to find the door if I have to talk to every landlord in the county.
Then I'm going to do the best I can to stop you."
"I actually hope you do, but it may be moot. He might not even regain consciousness."
"Then I'll clear his name."
September 27
At dawn she saw his eyelids flicker,
but then thought that perhaps she had only imagined it. Getting up to look more closely, she saw a glint through his
slightly parted eyelashes. Catching her breath in terror, she stared intently at his chest. Its steady rise and
fall reassured her. Only after she exhaled did she realize that a glance at the heart monitor would have told her that
he still lived. Gazing at it, she noticed that the tempo of his heartbeat had increased slightly.
She was about to ring for
the nurse, when he moved his head. The tip of Richard's tongue weakly touched his cracked lips, and he tried to swallow.
His eyelids fluttered, and his lips quivered. Realizing that he was trying to speak, she hovered over him, placing her
ear next to his lips, brushing her cheek to his.
"You're
all right," he rumbled weakly.
393.
She squeezed his hand and drew it to her bosom.
"Yes, Richard. And you will be okay too."
He shook his head weakly and closed his eyes again.
"Everything is going
to be okay now," she said. "I'm here, and I need you so much. Do you hear me?"
"I don't think . . ." he muttered before slipping into unconsciousness
again.
934 Joliet
Street, Cartier
Denise Abbot's car was found on Harper Street six blocks from Boyd's apartment. Since both the campus and downtown was
in the opposite direction, and since Harper continued on into an older run-down residential section abutting the switchyard,
JR had decided to begin questioning landlords in that direction first. Just after noon he found one who recognized Mic.
A moment later he walked into something that in later years he could only describe as "unclean."
What he saw on the VCR was
all the proof he needed, but he sat on the bed and flipped through the photo album as quickly as latex gloves would allow.
He looked at each woman only long enough to determine that she wasn't Rose Ford. He put down the album and wandered
from what he thought of as the "trophy room" through the unused kitchen. He opened the door to the back room.
A large
chest freezer sat next to the door. Inside he found the nude body of a slender woman. She looked as if she had
been carelessly dumped in face up. He took the photo he had been showing around a week earlier. He had found Denise
Abbot.
October 2
They had come while Jill
was at home showering and changing clothes after spending the night at the hospital. Richard stared at the ceiling thinking
through the implications of what he had said during the interrogation. He had thought that killing Mic had ended it,
but now he knew that there was one more thing to do.
Jill's face lit when she came in and found him awake.
394.
"Oh, Richard," she said, coming over and sat carefully on
the bed.
When she bent to kiss him on the cheek,
she saw his somber expression.
"Does it hurt
terribly?" she asked.
"Not much.
I think they've got me on some pretty strong stuff."
"Good," she said, kissing him again before straightening
up and taking his hand in hers. "We have much to talk about."
"Yes," he agreed soberly. "I've had
time to think this morning . . . and I've decided that you were right."
"When?" she asked, wondering if perhaps he were
confusing a dream he'd had with reality.
"All along," he said with a sigh. "It was never going to work out for us, Jill. There are just
too many differences between us. We come from different worlds---different times."
She shook her head rapidly. "I did not say that."
"Not in so many words, but listen to me," he said, trying
to forestall her argument.
"No," she said. "You must listen to me. The differences do not matter. You told me that all
you wanted was for me to look at you the way your father looked at your mother. I do not know how that was, except that
it must have been with love in her eyes. If that is not what you see when I look at you then it is because I am not
good at showing how I feel."
He
turned away, unable to bear her earnest expression.
"It was a dream, Jill. I was just this damaged guy looking
for the . . . for something I thought could save me. You were young and beautiful and . . . you fit my dream.
It was just that, though---just a dream. You were unattainable---that's the way dreams are supposed to be."
"I love you," she said.
"No. You just think you do
right now, but it's just like a hangover from that crazy situation we were in. You said it yourself. A person
can't think clearly during something like that. Once you give yourself a chance to think about it you'll---"
"It was not like that. It is not like that."
"It is. I was
just infatuated with . . . with your looks. For a slob like me to have a chance at someone so . . . exotic was just
intoxicating I guess."
395.
Hurt more than she thought she could ever be hurt, she almost couldn't respond.
"I see," she said almost inaudibly.
"So you don't need to
hang around worrying about me," he said. "I'll be all right. You just get on with your life."
The door opened suddenly.
Richard looked sideways without turning his head. His healing scalp and back wounds seemed to have pulled his skin too
tight so tight that sudden movement was excruciating.
"So, Sleeping Beauty finally awakes," said Kevin jovially. "What's with the guard out there? Who
are they protecting you from?"
"There
here to make sure I don't leave while they're deciding what to charge me with."
"You are arrested?" gasped Jill in surprise. "They
cannot do that."
"It can't be," agreed
Kevin. "You're like a public hero."
"I made the first move. I put a chokehold on him, and
he used the knife trying to keep me from killing him. That's what happened."
"Don't tell them that. For God's sake! You're cut to ribbons."
"I already signed a statement."
"Now you decide that lying is impossible," said Jill softly.
Kevin looked at her quizzically.
"I must go," she blurted, standing suddenly.
She extended her hand. "It is nice to see you again, Kevin."
Kevin watched her leave and then turned back to Richard.
"Something wrong between you two?" he asked.
"I'm trying to talk her into forgetting about me and moving on."
396.
"Are you crazy? Why would you want her to leave now?"
"Because she's young
and confused. Mic almost killed her. Now she's got this crazy idea that she has to stick with me because she thinks
she owes it to me."
"You are crazy. It isn't gratitude that's keeping her here. She's been wearing your ring for how
long now?"
"She bought the damned ring herself as a way to explain to Marta why she staying at my place. That's all."
Kevin shook his head.
"Nah. I see the way she looks
at you. That girl loves you---beats the hell out me why though."
"I will not let her throw her life away."
"You're the one throwing
your life away! I'd give everything I own to have something like you've got with her. Why in the hell are you
being this way?"
"I'm going to jail, Kevin! It makes no sense for her to wait for me, but she's stubborn. Once she
makes up her mind about something, you can't talk her out of it. I can't let her do it."
Richard shook his head heedless of the pain of the strained stitches.
"I'll be forty-five
or fifty before I get out. Her whole life is ahead of her, and I'm not going to let her sacrifice it just because she
got dragged into something between me and Mic."
Jill had been listening just outside the room. Now she stepped back into the room.
"Kevin, can you leave?" she said. "Richard and
I need to be alone."
"Yeah," he said,
offering a parting hand to Richard.
Before he left,
he gave an impulsive bear hug to Jill.
"See
you," he said.
When he was gone, Richard and Jill stared silently at each other for a moment. He saw that her eyelashes were wet.
"You heard," he said.
397.
She nodded.
"Surely you can see the logic in what I said."
"I cannot. What you said was entirely illogical and self-serving."
"Self-serving?"
"Yes. You think I am grateful
for what happened to me. I am not. I blame you for it."
"Then don't let me put you through any more of it."
"It is too late, because one of the things you did was make me
fall in love with you."
"You just think that, Jill. Remember when you said that you couldn't think clearly because of all the craziness?
Well, as soon as you get away from me and get some perspective you'll see this for what it really is. What you need
to do now is---"
"Stop making decisions for me!" she said. "It is what you have done from the beginning. This is
the first decision I have made for myself."
"I
just think---"
"Stop it! You do not have the right to . . . to put me through hell like you did and then just go away and be a
martyr. You owe me, Richard Carter. You cannot make a promise like you did and then just . .
. take it away from me."
"I
never made you a promise."
"Of course you did," she said. "Now you must keep it unless you truly do not love me."
"I just don't want you to be a captive any more," he said
miserably.
"It is too late, Richard. I
already am. We both are."
"I want
you more than anything in the world, but---"
She
placed her finger on his lips to silence him.
"I
know my heart," she said. "And I know yours."
395.
Lansing, Michigan
The gray haired man came
around his desk to greet his old friend. They took seats near the window and caught up on old times as a preliminary.
"Governor, I think I
know how you feel about this, but give me a chance to change your mind."
"Dave, I sympathize, but he took the law into his own hands."
"But surely, you---" began the prosecutor.
"I can't condone this vigilante stuff."
"Carter had no choice."
"Bull! Boyd was the worst
kind of scum, but what if the next Bronson doesn't have his facts straight?"
The prosecutor opened his briefcase.
"No! No!"
said the Governor when he saw the VCR tape inside. "I'm not looking at that. This is a matter of principle,
a matter of sending the right message. Carter is just going to have to be a casualty."
"Bob, you have to---"
"I am the chief law enforcement
officer of this state!" said the Governor forcefully. "Friend or not, Dave, I can't do what you want."
The prosecutor nodded in acknowledgement.
"The body count is nine
confirmed and/or identified women," he said. "They're looking for nine more, sir---even more, if we can believe
the stuff Reeves found. Have you seen his scrap book?"
"My imagination is good enough. I told you: this is a matter of principle."
His visitor knew how to make
a closing statement. More importantly, he knew his friend.
"Boyd kept meticulous records, Bob---jewelry, underwear, before
and after pictures. He wrote the details of each of his missions. There are---"
"Give me more credit," said the Governor tersely.
396.
"I give you all the credit in the world, but I'm not leaving here
until you see this tape."
"I'm not going
to do it," said the Governor, lifting his chin stubbornly.
"You
owe me, Bob, and I'm calling in my markers."
The
old man's features sagged in surrender. For once he looked his true age.
"This is a copy of the original,"
said his visitor as he turned on the TV and popped the tape in the VCR. "You're too good a man to make the sort
of decision you're going to have to without knowing all there is to know about this."
"I don't need the details."
"Yes. You do."
"All right. But give me the remote."
The video was of poor quality, shot in the woods.
The Governor muted the sound almost immediately. The scene was the squalid opposite of erotic. He stopped the
tape and closed his eyes.
"How much
more is there?" he asked, feeling tightness in his chest.
"This
one's six or seven minutes. You've seen about twenty seconds worth."
He hit the eject button.
"I will not watch any more of that . . . that outrage. Have it destroyed. I want all of it burned---pictures,
his notes, everything. Wipe out every trace of him."
Unable to sit still, he got up and went to the window.
"I know you can't do that," he said
over his shoulder. "The stuff is useful for trying to get a handle on the guys like him."
He stared out at the city for a long moment.
"We were already on to him, Dave."
"No. Until Reeves found the
trophy room, no one had anything on him. No one would have even suspected Boyd if Carter hadn't gotten suspicious
and started digging into his past. He could have gone on like this for no telling how many years."
397.
"Why couldn't Carter wait?"
"Boyd pushed him over
the edge by going after his fiancé. I'm not clear on exactly what happened, but I'm pretty sure she'd be dead
if Carter hadn't got home when he did."
"I'll
issue your pardon."
"You won't be sorry,
Bob."
"It'll probably gain me votes when I run again. I just hope it doesn't inspire some future vigilante."
"You're making the right decision."
"I'm letting you off the hook."
"True. But you're also giving
a very decent guy his future back. There's justice in that."
"There'll never be justice in this world, Dave. But there is mercy, I guess."
