Dark Eye

31

The phone rang. Lisa.

“Calling to brighten my day with a report on last night’s lip-lock?”

“No. You wa

I drew in my breath. “But Lisa-this is so sudden. We haven’t even kissed. And I know how important that is to you.”

“I’m serious, Suze. I’ve found a place. Fabulous. Big. Guy needs a housesitter. He’s going to be gone for years. We could have it for next to nothing.”

I sat up. Living in hotel rooms and barren apartments was getting way stale. “Sounds too good to be true.”

“I haven’t even told you the best part yet. It’s in L.A.”

Everything seemed to go into slow motion. I drew the receiver from my face and stared at it. I noticed I was breathing deeply.

“You mean… leave Vegas?”

“Well, it would be a hell of a long commute.”

“But-I’d lose my job.”

“Technically, you already did that, sweetie. And this consulting thing can’t last forever.”

“What would I do?”

“I don’t know. But you are a trained psychologist, remember? There are a lot of things you could do that don’t involve poking around corpses or getting nabbed by serial killers. Personally, I think it would do you good. To get away from all the… reminders.”

My eyes went into deep focus. There was a certain truth to what she said, of course. She wasn’t the first to suggest that I should leave. And if I won the custody hearing, I could take Rachel anywhere I wanted. Maybe I could go back into clinical work. Maybe get a cushy job as a corporate trainer.

I wondered if this house in L.A. had palm trees. I always wanted a house with palm trees.

“I don’t know, Lisa. I’ll have to think about it.”

“Okay. There’s no rush. Let’s talk tonight, okay, girlfriend?”

After she hung up, I had a hard time getting my head back where it belonged. Police work had been a part of my life for so long. It was the one thing my father and I’d had in common, and then after he was gone, something David and I had always shared. To some extent it had been my life, especially after David was gone. But what had it ever done for me? Made my life a misery. Gotten me kidnapped, abused. Reviled by my colleagues. Driven me to drink.

And there would always be room for another shrink in La-La Land, right?

I might still be thinking about it if Granger hadn’t burst into what I laughingly called my office. “Are you as sick and tired of these goddamn Feebs as I am?”

“Probably not,” I said honestly. “Why?”

“They’ve taken over the whole damn investigation!”

“And this surprises you? Granger-it’s what they do.”

“Hey, wouldn’t it be great if you or I could crack this case? Show up those Junior J. Edgars?”

“Yeah. Especially if it were me.”

Darcy shuffled in behind him. He’d been acting like the department errand boy all day, couriering things from one department to the other, delivering messages, even going for coffee. Anyone else his age might’ve found it demeaning, but Darcy wanted to be on the premises, even when he and I weren’t doing anything. And not an hour passed that he didn’t find some reason to come by my desk.

“Have you been thinking about that cheerleader one, Tiffany? ’Cause I’ve been thinking about that one.”

“Really? Why?”

“Did you know that when most children run away from home, they have some kind of place in mind where they’re going?”

I slowly rose out of my chair. “Are you saying you think Tiffany was ru

More shrugging. Staring at the carpet. “Not exactly.” His hands began to pump the air. “But I don’t think she’d leave unless she had someplace she wanted to go.”

He was giving me all the bread crumbs, but I wasn’t following the trail. “We’ve quizzed everyone. They say she had no friends or family around here.”

“She was interested in police work. She wanted to be a policeman.” His chin rose. “Lots of people wish they could be a policeman.”

“So what are you saying? Maybe she decided to visit headquarters?”

“Did you watch the news last night? ’Cause I watched the news last night. It was all about Edgar.”

“Yeah, it has been for-” Wait a minute. Praise God, I was starting to see the glue. “Tiffany would’ve known about the Edgar murders. And she was interested in police work.”

Granger jumped in. “So she might’ve decided to do a little investigating?”

“Come on, Granger, we see it all the time. Whenever a case gets a lot of attention. The rubberneckers turn out at the scene of the crime, at the courthouse, whatever. Some people thrive on this kind of stuff.”

“But where would she go? That shack out by the dam? That strip joint?”

I knew the answer before he’d finished speaking, knew it with a clarity that startled even myself. “Where the first body was found. Where Fara Spencer was killed. The Whitechapel of this whole case.” I paused. “The Transylvania. That’s where he grabbed them. Because that’s where he is.”

The girls were in their respective stalls, performing their nine-thirty poses.

They sat on the cold, bare floor in a confined area with nothing to do, nothing to look at, cold, dirty, naked. Every waking hour he would bring them a picture, usually something torn out of a porn magazine, always a woman in some demeaning pose. He would give them whatever they needed to re-create the scene. And then he would wait.

Not a word need be spoken. They knew what he wanted. And he rarely had to wait long to get it, certainly not after the first day. They knew what disobedience would bring. No food, for starters. No water. Not even a clean pan for their excrement. And quite possibly a return visit to the pendulum. Or the leeches. Or whatever else was required.

There had been no disobedience for a long time.

After they assumed the pose, whatever it was, he snapped their picture with his Polaroid, then posted it on the wall next to them. A little something to remind them who and what they were now. What they had become.

His. They belonged to the Raven, heart and mind and soul.

Judy and JJ had not been in those orangutan suits, of course, although it would’ve been magnificent, their ashes rising in an incandescent blaze, a magnificent incarnation of the prophet’s tale of little Hop-frog’s revenge. But the shock of thinking she had killed them-willingly-had been more than enough to break Tiffany. She had ended up even more deeply subservient than the two who had crumbled first. She was a sock puppet with his hand inside her.

Now the three of them were so compliant, so eager to please him, that a picture was not even necessary. As soon as he entered the room, Tiffany began to assume a variety of poses, ru

Perfect.

Everything at the hotel was proceeding apace. The Poe room was gone, The Hunchback of Notre Dame tableau was all but complete. It was not one of the prophet’s works, but it would serve his purposes just the same.

All he lacked was the Vessel. Susan. Perhaps he had given her too much time, hoping that the time bomb he’d left ticking in her head would bring her to him of her own accord. One way or the other, once he had secured the Vessel, all his preparations would be complete.

Tiffany slithered up to him and wrapped herself around his feet. She pointed to her mouth, begging for food. Pathetic thing. He shook his head; he had not even brought a cube of sugar. Didn’t matter.

She pulled up his pant leg and began to lick his ankle, purring.