The Mephisto Club

“Dr. Isles wants her out here ASAP.”

“On our way.”

Jane gave a last glance around the attic, then headed back down the steps, back down the hallway, past bedrooms they had already searched, past the same portraits that had stared at them moments before. Once again her heart was drumming as she stepped out the front door, into a night awash with flashing lights. Two more cruisers had since arrived, and she halted, temporarily blinded by the kaleidoscopic glare.

“Jane, she ran.”

She focused on Maura, who stood backlit by the cruisers’ rack lights. “What?”

“Lily Saul. We were standing over there, on the sidewalk. And when we turned, she was gone.”

“Shit.” Jane sca

“It was only a few minutes ago,” said Maura. “She can’t have gone far.”

THIRTY-FIVE

Lily Saul darted down one side street, and then another, weaving ever deeper into the maze of an unfamiliar neighborhood. She did not know Boston, and she had no idea where she was going. She could hear the sirens of cruisers, circling like sharks. The flash of headlights sent her scrambling into an alley. There she crouched behind garbage cans as a patrol car slowly crept up the street. The instant it disappeared around the corner, she was back on her feet and moving in the other direction. She was going downhill now, slipping on cobblestones slick with ice, her backpack slapping against her shoulder blades. She was not dressed for this bitter weather, and already her feet stung from the cold, and her ungloved hands were numb. Her te

It was a sign for the subway station.

She’d just jump on a train and in minutes she could be on her way anywhere in the city. And she’d be warm.

She clambered to her feet, her tailbone aching from the fall, her scraped palms stinging. She limped across the street, took a few steps along the sidewalk, and halted.

A police cruiser had just rounded the corner.

She dashed into the park and ducked behind the bushes. There she waited, her heart banging in her throat, but the cruiser did not pass. Peering through the branches, she saw that it was parked and idling outside the subway station. Damn. Time to change plans.

She glanced around and spotted the glowing sign of yet another T station on the other side of the park. She rose to her feet and started across the common, moving beneath the shadow of trees. Ice crusted the snow, and every footstep gave a noisy crack as her shoe broke through the glaze into deep snow beneath. She struggled forward, almost losing a shoe, her lungs heaving now with the effort to make headway. Then, through the roar of her own breathing, she heard another sound behind her, a crunch, a creak. She stopped and turned, and felt her heart freeze.

The figure stood beneath a tree-faceless, featureless, a black form that seemed more shadow than substance. It’s him.

With a sob, Lily fled, stumbling through the snow, shoes smashing through the icy crust. Her own breathing, the slamming of her own heart, drowned out any sound of pursuit, but she knew he was right behind her. He’d always been right behind her, every minute, every breath, dogging her steps, whispering her doom. But not this close, never this close! She didn’t look back, didn’t want to see the creature of her nightmares moving in. She just plunged ahead, her shoe lost now, her sock soaked with frigid water.

Then, all at once, she stumbled out of a drift, onto the sidewalk. The T entrance was straight ahead. She went flying down the steps, almost expecting to hear the swoop of wings and feel the bite of claws in her back. Instead, she felt the warm breath of the subway tu

No time to fool with money. Jump the turnstile!

She scrambled over it, and her wet sock slapped down onto the pavement. Two steps, and she skidded to a stop.

Jane Rizzoli was standing right in front of her.

Lily spun around, back toward the turnstile she’d just jumped. A cop stood barring her escape.

Frantically she gazed around the station, looking for the creature that had pursued her, but she saw only startled commuters staring back at her.

A handcuff closed over her wrist.

She sat in Jane Rizzoli’s parked car, too exhausted to think of trying to escape. The wet sock felt like a block of ice encasing her foot, and even with the heater ru

“Okay, Lily,” said Jane. “Now you’re going to tell me the truth.”

“You won’t believe the truth.”

“Try me.”

Lily sat motionless, tangled hair spilling across her face. It didn’t matter anymore. She was so tired of ru

“Where is Dominic?” asked Jane.

“He’s dead,” said Lily.

A moment passed as the detective processed that information, as she reached her own conclusions. Through the closed window came the wail of a passing fire truck, but inside this car, there was only the hiss of the heater.

Jane said, “You killed him?”

Lily swallowed. “Yes.”

“So his mother never came for him, did she? She never took him abroad. That’s why you wrote that letter to the school.”

Lily’s head drooped lower. There was no point in denying anything. This woman had already put it all together. “The school called. They kept calling, wanting to know if he was coming back. I had to write the letter so they’d stop asking me where he was.”

“How did you kill him?”

Lily took in a shuddering breath. “It was the week after my father’s funeral. Dominic was in our garage looking at my mother’s car. He said she wouldn’t need it anymore, so maybe he could have it.” Lily’s voice dropped to a tight whisper. “That’s when I told him I knew. I knew he killed them.”

“How did you know?”

“Because I found his notebook. He kept it under his mattress.”

“What was in the notebook?”

“It was all about us. Pages and pages about the boring Saul family. What we did every day, the things we said to each other. He had notes about which path Teddy always took to the lake. About which pills we kept in the bathroom cabinet. What we ate for breakfast, how we said good night.” She paused. Swallowed. “And he knew where my father kept the key to his gun cabinet.” She looked at Jane. “He was like a scientist, studying us. And we were nothing but lab rats.”

“Did he actually write in his notebook that he’d killed your family?”

She hesitated. “No. His last entry was August eighth, the day that Teddy…” She stopped. “He knew better than to actually write about it.”

“Where is that notebook now? Do you still have it?”

“I burned it. Along with all his other books. I couldn’t stand the sight of them.”

Lily could read the look in Jane’s eyes. You destroyed the evidence. Why should I believe you?

“Okay,” said Jane. “You said you found Dominic in the garage, that you confronted him there.”

“I was so upset, I didn’t think about what would happen next.”

“What did happen?”

“When I told him I knew what he’d done, he just stared right back at me. No fear, no guilt. ‘You can’t prove it,’” he said. She took a breath and slowly released it. “Even if I could have proved it, he was only fifteen. He wouldn’t have gone to jail. In a few years, he would have been free. But my family would still be dead.”