"Winter House" - читать интересную книгу автора (O’Connell Carol)Chapter 6riker’s back was broken after five hours of bad dreams on a lumpy couch in the hospital lounge. A voice close to his ear said, „I know you’re awake.“ Mallory sounded so damned alert, but she was young; she could string three days together with catnaps and never miss the sleep. Well, he might be awake, but she could not force him to open his eyes. „I talked to the state cops in Maine,“ she said. „They went out to Susan McReedy’s place.“ Riker rolled over and away from her, burrowing into the upholstery. Mallory’s voice was louder, more testy. „McReedy’s Riker mumbled, „Some people still use cash, Mallory.“ Morning light was breaking through the slits of his sore eyes. „Maybe the lady just needed a vacation.“ Life in the boondocks of Maine might be more exciting and stressful than he had previously supposed. He rolled on his back, eyes all the way open now, and decided that – naw – Susan McReedy was on the run. „Damn. So that private dick upstairs is all we got left.“ He was talking to the ceiling. His partner was crossing the lobby, forcing him to rise and lope after her. Nedda faltered on the stairs as she made her way up to the south attic, where the trunks of the dead were kept – all but Baby Sally’s. The light from the gabled windows was waning. The morning was turning dark and promising rain. She wandered the rows of stored effects until she found her mother’s trunk and opened it. The lid was heavier today. So tired. Nedda dropped the opera glasses inside and closed the trunk softly, reverently. She moved on to the neat row of murdered parents and children. One by one, she dragged their trunks to an open space. The sky was rumbling over her head as she arranged them in a circle, and lightning flashed in every window when she sat down, tailor fashion, surrounded by all that remained of her dead. This was the family. Following a crack of thunder, rain streaked the glass panes. As Nedda cried, so did the house. Nestled in her lap was the canvas sack of Baby Sally’s rotted clothes. This child was never far from her thoughts, though she could only see her youngest sister as a newborn with hair of soft down – fingers and toes impossibly small. Nedda called up a memory of solemn children gathered in the kitchen. Old Tully the housekeeper had taken it upon herself to explain this impending death of their baby sister, and she had done it badly, telling them that they were all dying from the moment they were born. „That’s what life’s about,“ said Tully. Not good enough. The children, not one philosopher in the pack of them, had demanded a more concrete explanation. Obligingly, the housekeeper had gone out into the yard, captured a slug and returned with it, laying the slimy creature on the kitchen table. „This is death,“ she had said, holding up a heavy mallet used for tenderizing meat. The old woman had brought her weapon down upon the slug and smashed it into a smear on the tabletop. „There,“ said Tully, „it’s gone to live with Jesus.“ Nedda held up a little dress that a four-year-old might wear. A child-size wraith in a white nightgown hovered by the attic stairs. Only Bitty. Nedda swiped her wet face with the back of one hand, then turned to her niece and braced herself for some new accusation. Bitty was lit by a flash of lightning. Her eyes rolled up toward the rafters, and she stiffened slightly, waiting for the thunderclap. It never came. „I’m sorry, Aunt Nedda – about last night. I got a call from Officer Brill this morning. He wanted to know if you were all right. He told me what happened in the park. After everything you’d been through, I made you feel like a criminal.“ „Don’t give it any thought, dear. It was perfectly understandable.“ Bitty pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of her robe. „You had an earlier call last night after supper. I didn’t want to disturb you. I thought you might be sleeping.“ She held out the piece of paper as she walked toward her aunt. „It’s a message from that detective,“ said Bitty, „the tall blond one.“ BANG! The thunder cracked overhead. Bitty jumped and her hands flew up like wings. The note wafted to the floor. Nedda reached out to retrieve the fallen paper, already knowing its contents before she unfolded it. This was Detective Mallory’s demand to appear at the police station this morning. She looked up to see that Bitty had recovered nicely from the inclement weather. „Aunt Nedda?“ Lightning returned to light up her face, her worried eyes. „I’ve never practiced criminal law, but I know it’s always a bad idea to take a polygraph. I don’t think you should do it.“ „Don’t worry, dear. I can deal with this.“ BANG! When the patient regained consciousness, Mallory was the first thing he saw, and Riker felt sorry for Joshua Addison, a private investigator licensed in the state of Maine. Mallory leaned over the hospital bed, both hands curling round the metal rail. Such long red fingernails. And Riker saw that old look on her face – hungry – as if she had not been fed for days and days. Startled, the patient appeared to be playing dead with his eyes wide open. Riker watched the man’s chest, fascinated and wondering how much longer Addison could hold his breath. The private investigator’s survival instinct was slow to kick in, and when he finally sucked in air and tried to raise his arms in a protective reflex, he discovered that his right hand was manacled to the side rail. „What the hell is this? What happened?“ „The way I remember it,“ said Riker, „you were making a move on a woman in the park – when you tripped and fell. Now you’re going down on a pervert charge.“ „That’s ridiculous,“ said Addison. „You can’t – “ „You need a lawyer,“ said Riker, thinking it best to bring up the subject first. The moment their suspect asked for counsel, the interview must end. „Yeah, and make it a damn good lawyer. A pervert charge is – “ „What? You’re crazy!“ „Addison, you were stalking an old woman. And maybe we should add an assault charge.“ Mallory reached out to touch the bandage on the patient’s forehead. Her long nails were dangerously close to the man’s eyes and he flinched as she peeled the bandage back to expose a jagged cut. Though there was no doubt that the wound had come from the broken lightbulb in the basement of Winter House, Mallory said, „We need a picture of this scratch. Looks like the old lady tried to fight him off.“ On cue, Riker pulled a disposable camera from his coat pocket and snapped a close-up photograph with a burst of light in Addison’s eyes. „You’re both nuts!“ Half blinded by the flash, the private investigator squinted at his accusers. „I never Mallory laid three photographs on the bedsheet. Riker knew that these pictures had been taken by his partner, though she had given him the gift of deniability by lying to him. Unlike all the other shots from Addison’s roll of film, these three had Mallory’s center fixation. Nedda Winter’s head was in the precise center of each frame, as if she had been shot through a gun sight. In the first one, the camera was facing the startled woman. In the next one, she was running away. The third shot, a personal favorite, had Nedda, still on the run, looking back over one shoulder – a documented chase. „We have a lock on this case,“ said Mallory. „These shots came „Ordering a DNA test would be overkill.“ Riker smiled. „Real jail time, pal.“ „An old woman like that,“ said Mallory – as if she had ever been sentimental about old ladies. „You „I was working a case.“ „We don’t think so,“ said Riker, more affably. „We like the pervert charge.“ „I was working for a client, and I can prove it,“ said Joshua Addison. Riker was loving this. Normally it was like pulling teeth to get a client name from a private investigator. „Who’ve you got lined up? Your mother?“ He looked up at his partner. „Let’s book him. I’m tired. I wanna go home.“ „That old woman,“ said Addison, „I think she’s Red Winter.“ Riker feigned mild surprise. „You’re planning an insanity defense?“ He turned to Mallory in the guise of a translator. „Red Winter was a little girl, a kidnap victim. She disappeared maybe thirty years before you were even born.“ He looked down at the man on the bed. „And, last I heard, she „No,“ said Addison. „Her house is across the street from the park. She’s back.“ „You’re kidding,“ said Mallory. „That’s your story? You were waiting for her to come home?“ „You know,“ said Riker, leaning on the bedrail as he opined, „this job is definitely losing its edge. The perverts get dumber every year.“ „I was hired by Bitty Smyth,“ said Addison. „At the time, I didn’t know she was Red Winter’s niece. I had to do some checking. But now I – “ „Yeah, right,“ said Mallory. „The niece hired you to stalk her aunt.“ „No, she hired me „This is too confusing,“ said Riker. „The lady wasn’t lost in the park. She just went out for a walk.“ Riker pulled a small notebook from his coat, then fished the rest of his pockets until he found his pen. „So let me get this straight. You wanted to pass this woman off as Red Winter, and you needed a picture.“ He jotted down a few words. „A photograph you could sell to the tabloids?“ Riker looked up from his notebook. „You’re telling us you’re a con artist?“ He shrugged. „Okay with me, pal. We’ll add that to the charges.“ Riker and Mallory moved away from the bedside, as if they could not leave this man fast enough. „Hey, wait a minute,“ said Addison. „Wait!“ They did not. Bitty Smyth hung up the receiver on the kitchen wall phone, then faced her aunt with a smile. „The arrangements are done. I talked to Detective Mallory’s superior, a very nice man – Lieutenant Coffey. It took a bit of negotiating, but I got everything I asked for.“ „How handy to have a lawyer around the house.“ Nedda spooned scrambled eggs from a pan onto oven-heated plates. Behind her on the stove, bacon sizzled and hot water bubbled in the kettle. „You should go back to your father’s firm.“ And perhaps that would assuage her guilt over Bitty’s long sabbatical, all that time lost to the search for a long-lost child. Her niece shrugged off this suggestion. „I lined up an independent polygraph examiner. Lieutenant Coffey said I wouldn’t be allowed to stay in the room during the examination, but I think I can get him to change his mind.“ Bitty sat down at the table and took up her fork, waving it in the air as a baton. „Good timing is very important in every negotiation. We’ll make a stand right before they – “ „No, Bitty. It’s better if I do this alone.“ Nedda picked up the teakettle before the whistle could startle her niece, then poured boiling water over the tea bags in their cups. „And then, this afternoon we might visit some real estate brokers.“ She sat down at the table and picked up a newspaper opened to listings for co-ops and condominiums. Several advertisements had been circled in blue ink. „I’m going to find a place of my own in – another part of town. I think Cleo and Lionel would like that.“ „But this is Yes, she did. But the house did not love anyone – not anymore. The house was sad and crazy and sick to death of love. „It has nothing to do with you, Bitty.“ Nedda reached out to cover her niece’s small hand with her own. „You can come with me if you like. Call it a stepping stone to a place of your own. You can’t live with your mother forever, can you?“ The expression on Bitty’s face was one of instant sorrow, and Nedda realized that she had trod upon one of her niece’s many closet secrets. Though others seemed to underestimate this little woman’s complexity, Nedda never did. Sometimes even a simple conversation was like navigating a labyrinth with wrong turns aplenty. She had learned to avoid every path of discourse that led to pain, and now she folded the newspaper into her lap and out of Bitty’s sight. The detectives had finished a leisurely breakfast in the hospital cafeteria. and now they were tying up a critical loose end: how to explain away Mallory’s behavior last night, the pistol whipping in Central Park. They stood in the dark of a small room in company with a hospital physician, who flicked on a light to illuminate Joshua Addison’s X-rays. The doctor pointed to a fault line, saying, „Definitely a concussion. That’s why he can’t tell you what happened right before he lost consciousness. Judging by the wound, it looks to me like somebody hit him very hard with a – “ „A rock?“ asked Mallory, raising a plastic bag with said rock neady pocked with red. „Like this one? We found it underneath his head.“ She smiled so hopefully, as if she cared about this man’s opinion. „Or do you think he might’ve fallen and hit his head on the rock?“ „Yes, that would do it,“ said the doctor, who was young, who had no experience in forensics – who had never met Mallory before. „Yes, an accident.“ Riker had to wonder how she made her prop so realistic. He stared at the red fluid that spotted this rock taken from a construction site across the street. It Mallory glanced at the clock on the wall, a signal that they had killed enough time. They rode the elevator up to Joshua Addison’s floor for a final word with the private investigator. When they entered the room, the man in the bed had a worried look about him. „Your story doesn’t check out,“ said Riker. „We called that nursing home in Maine. According to their records, this woman’s the wrong age.“ This was actually true. The sketchy records had overestimated Nedda Winter’s age by eight years. „And one more thing,“ said Mallory. „Your name is on the nursing home’s discharge papers. They’ve got you listed as her next of kin. And they’ve never heard of Bitty Smyth.“ „Yeah,“ said Riker, „explain that one. Are you trying to con the Winter family out of some money?“ „Hell, no. The niece asked me to make the arrangements to move her aunt to a hospice in New York State. She wanted it done quietly.“ Mallory shook the bedrail to get the man’s attention. „Did the niece try to cut you out of the deal? Is that why you were stalking that old woman in the park?“ Addison could barely get out the word „No.“ „We ‘re just going by your own statement, pal,“ said Riker. „It looks like a scam to us.“ „Then it’s the niece, Bitty Smyth. It’s her scam. All I did was find – “ „Oh, yeah, I forgot,“ said Riker. „You did what thirty thousand cops couldn’t do. „Just one snag,“ said Mallory. „It’s not her.“ Riker tossed a yellow pad on the bed. „Make out a complete statement If we don’t find any more lies, we’ll sit on the paperwork lor a lew days. But if we find out that you passed this woman off as a member of the Winter family, then all the charges are solid, including fraud. And, pal, vv‹ r,:’ the newspapers – all ot ‘em.“ And that should neatly kill any idea of selling Nedda Winter to the tabloids. To further the impression that the detectives were bored with the improbable story of Red Winter’s return, Riker stretched out on the bed beside Addison’s. Before the private investigator had filled out half the sheet, Riker was snoring convincingly and sleeping soundly. Half an hour passed before Mallory woke her partner, handing over the yellow sheets, one by one, as fast as she could read them. The handwritten lines of the statement were filled with every detail of the search for an old woman in the state of Maine. Joshua Addison had done hundreds of interviews looking for someone who would fit Bitty Smyth’s specific list of characteristics. For two years, the man had covered the entire state Well, now they knew that Bitty had not been leaving town on religious missions. She had been visiting nursing homes up north. But how had the woman known that her aunt was hiding out in the state of Maine? Mallory carried a clipboard into the interview room and walked to one end of the long table. She was ignoring the surprised polygraph examiner as she made a show of consulting her watch and writing down the time. Nedda Winter was wired into the machine by rubber tubing around bet-chest and abdomen to measure her breathing, a padded cardio cuff on her arm to keep track of her blood pressure, and metal fingertips to catch her in the act of sweating. The polygraph examiner cleared his throat – twice – but failed to get Mallory’s attention. „Excuse me, Detective,“ he said, hardly disguising his annoyance, „I work „I’m not here to question Miss Winter,“ said Mallory. „I’m here to evaluate The examiner only stared at her, casting about for some comeback. „Obviously,“ said Mallory, making a note on her clipboard, „you don’t know how old your equipment is. I’m guessing at least ten years.“ She leaned down toward Nedda, showing the woman no more regard than furniture when she examined the padded arm cuff. The detective made another note on her clipboard, speaking the words aloud as her pen moved across the paper, „Still using cardio cuffs for blood-pressure readings.“ She turned back to the examiner. „We gave you a chair with stress plates. Why aren’t you hooked in?“ She tapped her pencil on the notebook, waiting on an answer, then examined the back of his machine where the wires connected. „Never mind.“ She made more notes, saying as she wrote, „Outmoded machine. No connections for stress plates.“ She removed her blazer and draped it over a chair, a clear signal that she planned to stay awhile. And now her gun was exposed in the shoulder holster, breaking all the rules of interviews and civilian etiquette. All the power and authority was weighted to her side of the room. She leaned against the back wall, just visible to the examiner’s peripheral vision and in full view of Nedda Winter. „You can start now.“ If any arguments had occurred to the examiner, he swallowed them. Reaching into his briefcase, he pulled out a deck of playing cards. Mallory rolled her eyes. And Nedda Winter smiled, vaguely amused by the show. On the dark side of the mirror in a small theater of chairs tiered in rows, two men sat up front near the one-way glass. They were observing Mallory’s humiliation of the independent polygraph examiner. Charles turned to Riker. „What was all that about?“ „Mallory wants him out of the way so she can do the exam herself. Poor little guy. He’s toast.“ Riker reached over to a panel on the wall and turned off the volume. „Fun’s over. I’ve seen this next part a hundred times. Most of these idiots went to the same school for the ten-week course.“ The polygraph examiner leaned toward Nedda Winter and appeared to be speaking in a friendly fashion. In the absence of sound, Riker translated. „Right now he’s telling Nedda that he wants to put her at ease. That’s a lie. His whole job is to jack up her anxiety. If he can’t do that – if she’s not afraid of his machine – he won’t get any responses worth measuring-.“ „If Mallory keeps smirking at everything he says, it’s hardly – “ „He won’t last another five minutes. Now he’s telling Nedda what all the tools do, what they measure. She doesn’t seem too impressed. That’s because she’s taking all her cues from Mallory.“ The examiner laid four playing cards facedown on the table. Nedda selected one, lifting up a corner to see which card it was. The machine was turned on, and the man stared at the rolling paper as he spoke again, watch ing wavy lines and hard-edged spikes, jotting down small notes on the paper as it rolled by at the rate of six inches a minute. „This is the getting-to-know-you stage,“ said Riker. „He told her to give him a negative response every time he tries to guess her card – even if he guesses right. He’s telling her he needs to gauge her physical responses when he guesses the right card and she lies to him. That’s bull. If he didii’l know which response was a lie, the polygraph wouldn’t help.“ „So he memorized the order of the cards,“ said Charles. „He already knows which one she picked. Well then, what’s the point of this exercise? If she’s following his instructions, then there’s no attempt at deception.“ „It’s a lot like voodoo. Nedda has to believe in the polygraph. When he guesses her card, that’s supposed to convince her that the machine can read her mind. But see? She’s not buying it. This test is only as good as the examiner, and Mallory made him look like a moron.“ „So it’s true what they say,“ said Charles, and by „Right, but that’s not why we use it. When a cop does this test, it’s a fullblown interrogation without a lawyer. Sweet, huh?“ „But this examiner isn’t – “ „No, he’s an independent. That was the deal we did with Bitty Smyth. We picked the time and place – she picked the examiner. This guy’s only experience is interviewing applicants for low-level jobs.“ Riker leaned back and closed his eyes, saying, „Let me know when Mallory takes over. I’ll turn on the volume again.“ While Riker slept, Charles watched the tableau in front of him. The lame card trick was set aside, and they were moving on to other questions. After each response, the examiner made notations on the rolling paper. Mallory was drumming her nails on the clipboard, regarding the man as a bug. Nedda always glanced at the detective before answering a question. And now Charles intuited Mallory’s stance as a prelude to a lunge. He nudged Riker to wake him. „She’s almost ready.“ Riker’s eyes opened. „Good. Time to rock ‘n’ roll.“ He turned on the volume. The examiner asked his next question. „Did you ever kill anyone?“ „You know I did,“ said Nedda Winter. „I already signed a statement to that effect.“ „Once again, if you could confine your responses „Yes,“ said Nedda. Mallory stood behind the examiner, watching over his shoulder as the paper scrolled across the top of his machine. „You’re botching it.“ She ripped the paper out. The man half rose in protest. She glared at him. „Sit down.“ And he did. The detective made her own notations, matching up the responses with respiration and heartbeats, then tapped the different spikes on the chart each time she said, „Inconclusive, inconclusive, inconclusive.“ She turned on the examiner. „You don’t know what you’re doing.“ Riker turned the volume off again. „That might be the last true thing you hear from that room.“ He looked back to the glass as Mallorv slapped the top of the polygraph machine. „She’s telling him his equipment is crap.“ „I think I guessed that,“ said Charles. The examiner’s mouth had stopped flapping. He could only gawk at the detective in disbelief. „Fortunately,“ said Riker, „she just happens to have a brand-new.;n;r;: of-the-art polygraph parked right outside the door. Our machine doesn’t work any better, but it has more bells and whistles. So Mallory won the pissing contest. The guy’s out of the game, and he knows it. There’s no way to make a recovery now that Nedda thinks he’s a clown. But don’t feel sorry for him, Charles. He’s young. He can still find honest work.“ Mallory carried a heavy suitcase into the room and placed it on the table. She undid the snaps and opened it with a sideways glance at the civilian examiner, saying, „Now She spoke to Nedda for the first time. „We can put this off for another day or get it over with now. Up to you.“ „I’m ready.“ When Mallory turned around again to face the examiner, she feigned surprise to see him. „Still here?“ The man slunk out of the room, lacking the energy to entirely close the door behind him. Mallory slammed it shut. Her voice was icy when she turned to the woman seated in the chair and said, Charles turned to Riker. „Yeah.“ The detective shrugged as he slouched lower in his chair. „Some perps use countermeasures like a tack in the shoe. It jacks up the response to a control question. Any question that raises a real sweat looks kind of pale by comparison.“ „So the response to a small anxiety disguises the larger one.“ „Now you got it.“ The detective was watching the other room as Nedda, following another order, dragged her chair across the floor. Barefoot and wired to the machine, she sat down with her back to the wall. „That chair is set up with a stress plate to catch muscle tension. That’s another trick the perps use to beat the box.“ „But I] m guessing that you’re not actually worried about Nedda using countermeasures.“ „No.“ „In fact, Mallory’s not even certified for this sort of thing, is she?“ „Charles, it doesn’t matter. No polygraph exam is admissible in court. But now we get to ask questions that no lawyer would ever let her answer.“ „I can’t believe that Bitty Smyth would allow her to take this exam.“ „Bitty’s a contract attorney. Never handled a criminal case.“ Charles watched Mallory fasten restraints to the older woman’s legs. „I think I can guess what that’s for. She’s pinned now, helpless.“ He turned to Riker in the dark. „You know this isn’t right.“ „I know, but it’s what we do.“ Nedda Winter stared at the wires that made her seem part machine. „Bitty arranged for the independent examiner. Maybe I should talk to her before – “ „Good idea.“ Mallory stood before her suspect. „But I need answers today. Your niece is downstairs. If you don’t feel up to this, I can strap her in instead. I’m sure she’ll be happy to take your place if this is too stressful.“ No lawyer ever born would consent to a polygraph examination, but Nedda was nodding her head, wanting to spare Bitty Smyth any – unpleasantness. Barefoot and pinned by rubber tubes and wires, restraints on both her arms and legs, the old woman would not be able to imagine her timid niece in that chair. Mallory sat down at the table before the equipment. She gave a cursory glance at the sheet of paper she had torn from the civilian’s machine. „You’ve got too many mixed responses here. We have to start over. If you like, we can wait a few hours while we find an independent who knows what he’s doing. Or would you rather get this over with?“ „I said I’d take the test, but I don’t – “ „Fine.“ Mallory reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out the deck of cards she had stolen from the civilian examiner. „Let’s try another trick. That fool only used four cards.“ She shuffled the deck as she spoke. „Let’s try it with fifty-two possibilities. Pull out a card, any card.“ Fanning the cards, Mallory held them just far enough away to make the older woman strain to reach one. Nedda had no sooner taken her selection from the deck, when Mallory said, „Seven of hearts.“ Nedda nodded, surprised. „I palmed the only cards you could reach, and I memorized their order.“ Riker leaned far forward in his chair, caught between surprise and confusion. „You heard right,“ said Charles. „She just told the truth.“ And he understood why. Nedda must believe in Mallory. Hang the damned machine. „The examiner your niece picked out was a useless cheat,“ said Mallory, setting the deck on the table. „Bad card tricks are a hack’s game. He wanted you to believe that he could read your mind. Now me? I don’t care A good start. Turning on the machine, Mallory said, „Now, let’s go for a ride.“ She picked up her pencil and watched the scrolling lines, asking, „Did you ever kill anyone? „Yes.“ Mallory consulted the spikes on the scrolling paper, making notes here and there. „You were very calm the night we came to your house, but now your heart is beating way too fast. Is the burglar the only man you ever killed?“ Nedda’s voice was not much above a whisper, asking, „What does this have to do with the – “ „ Charles sank low in his chair. „I think I prefer the dark old days of thumbscrews and the rack. Does Mallory understand that she’s reading signs of stress – not guilt? Just being in the same room with her is enough to – “ „She knows,“ said Riker. „With a little preparation, a brain-dead Girl Scout can beat the box. But you can tell the truth and still fail the exam.“ „So it’s totally useless. Why would – “ „Nedda’s our only lead. We sent the Maine cops to Susan McReedy’s house to ask a few questions and check out her story. Seems the lady disappeared. Nedda’s all we got left.“ This was not entirely true. The last resort would be Bitty Smyth, who would lawyer up immediately. And then they would lose their leverage over the woman on the other side of the glass. „I know you like Nedda Winter,“ said Charles. „Why can’t you do the interrogation instead of Mallory?“ „No,“ said Riker, „I could never do what she’s gonna do.“ Mallory turned off the machine. „This looks bad for you. I can’t help you if you hold out on me. So we have to clarify your response. Right now, all I know for sure is that the burglar wasn’t your first kill.“ The detective leaned far back in her chair. No need to consult the machine – Nedda Winter’s face said it all. The woman had just been assaulted with no bruising, no blood loss. All the pain was in her eyes, the mouth half open, hands clenching. „So let’s clear up that previous death. Suppose you had an accident, ran somebody down in a car. That would explain the readings I see on this machine. Give me the circumstances, and then I can eliminate the last question.“ Nedda was flailing, arms raising, wires dangling from her body parts. She looked at her right hand, mechanized now, and she was horrified. „All right.“ Mallory turned the machine on. „Let’s take an easy question, a throwaway. The other night at the dinner party, I understand your niece gave you an old pack of tarot cards. She said they were yours. Was that true?“ „You’ve been talking to Charles Butler.“ Nedda turned to the mirror. „Is he there now? Bitty said she’d picked him for the neutral observer.“ Charles turned to Riker. „When were you going to tell me that?“ „Never. No reason to. If Bitty hadn’t made you a condition of the test, Mallory would’ve asked you to come. The key word here is „The hell I am.“ „Next question,“ said Mallory, „another easy one. Have you been reading tarot cards for a long time?“ „Yes. Wait.“ Nedda Winter erased her answer, wiping the air with both hands. „I mean… no. That was so long ago. I was a child the last time I saw that deck.“ „A child? Was this before the massacre?“ Nedda looked up in dumb surprise. Her mouth opened to speak, but she had no words. „Did you get your tarot deck before the Winter House Massacre? „No!“ Nedda lowered her voice to a whisper. „No.“ Mallory switched off the machine. „All right. You didn’t hold out on that one, but now I’ve got another problem.“ She waited a beat, then asked, „Why did you come home again?“ The woman looked down at her hands, her head slowly moving from side to side. The machine was switched on again. „Are you telling me it wasn’t your idea?“ She glanced at the readings, though she had no need of them since she already knew the answer. „That’s it, isn’t it? Someone else brought you home. Was it Lionel Winter?“ Mallory made a note below a spiking line. „No, not him. Was it Cleo Winter-Smyth? No. I’m getting odd responses here, Nedda. Your brother and sister – they didn’t welcome you back, did they?“ The spikes on the scrolling paper were climbing. „Not a very warm reception?“ Nedda shook her head. No, it was not. And now Mallory leaned far forward. „Was it your niece? Did Bitty Smyth bring you home?“ The detective’s head dropped closer to the machine as she made the next notation. „Yes, it „In a hospice. No, wait. I’m sorry. The nursing home – I think. I wasn’t very clearheaded then. I was moved into a nursing home after a diagnosis of end-stage cancer. The hospice was the last place. I was taken there to die.“ „But you weren’t dying, and you knew it – even if your doctors didn’t. Nobody comes back from the end stage. So, before the nursing home, you were in a hospital?“ Nedda nodded her head. „But not a regular hospital, not a place where they would’ve cut you open to look for a malignancy. No expensive tests. Maybe a state asylum with a clinic? Nothing else fits, Nedda. A real hospital would’ve gone looking for that cancer. Did you Nedda nodded. „How did Bitty Smyth know where to find you?“ Nedda looked up, genuinely curious, as if she had never considered this problem before. „A private investigator, I think.“ „No,“ said Mallory. „That doesn’t work for me. It’s a country of three hundred million people, six million square miles.“ The detective unfolded a dust jacket from one of the pulp books written about the murders at Winter House. It was illustrated with the Nedda moved her head from side to side. „And they let you rot,“ said Mallory. „Do they hate you that much? They never wanted you back. Why? Do they believe that you slaughtered their family – parents, sisters, brothers? Do they want you dead?“ The old woman’s head tilted at an odd angle and her eyes were suddenly vacant, as if the detective had just turned her off with the same switch used to shut down the machine. „Tell you what,“ said Mallory, rising from the table, „you think about it for a while.“ She ripped her long tract of paper free of the polygraph. „I have to review my readings. Maybe you’ll feel better when I get back.“ Riker was quick to disillusion Charles of the idea that Mallory was showing the woman any kindness. „Welcome to hell.“ „You have to stop this. She’s poisoning that poor woman against her whole family.“ „Can’t. It’s a big mistake to get between Mallory and a case. And we’re so close, Charles.“ „Close to what?“ „The only good result from a polygraph exam is a confession.“ „Confession to a mass murder? I’ll never believe that.“ Mallory stood in the doorway. „Maybe the killer was breaking in an apprentice. Does that make it a little easier to believe?“ „A twelve-year-old girl?“ Charles shook his head. „I don’t think so.“ „New York has a criminal class of children,“ said Riker. „Adults use them for robberies ‘cause the kids are too young to do time. They make the perfect little perps, and sometimes they carry lethal weapons.“ „And sometimes they kill people,“ said Mallory. „Now take that dead man on Nedda’s rug the other night.“ The detective was watching the glass window on the other room. „She killed that man in the dark. No hesitation marks. She just did him without even thinking about it. I say she’s had some practice.“ „She was protecting herself and Bitty.“ „And then,“ said Riker, „there’s history – the one you won’t find in Pinwitty’s book. There were three generations of hitmen with the same signature as the Winter House Massacre – so they had apprentices.“ „And,“ said Mallory, „the apprentices killed the masters. The ice-pick murders stopped when Nedda was a little girl, when she killed Humboldt.“ Charles’s attention was riveted to Nedda, and she was looking his way by chance. Was she searching the mirror side, seeking him in the looking glass, wanting an ally, needing a friend? „You can’t go on with this. I know what you’re doing. You’re cutting this woman’s legs out from under her. After you strip her of family support, the only one she’ll be able to turn to is you.“ „She’s safer with me than her relatives,“ said Mallory. „The one crime nobody expects me to care about is the death of Willy Roy Boyd. He was a piece of scum, but he was „Find another way,“ said Charles. „This has to stop right now. You can see how fragile she is.“ And badly wounded. Indeed, Nedda had just been flayed to the bone of psyche. Mallory returned to the interview room, but not to end the interrogation. She started up the machine again, and Nedda lifted her head, slowly, sadly, to face her interrogator. „Let’s get back to the man you stabbed the other night.“ Mallory turned the machine on again. „Do you think your relatives hired that man to kill you?“ „No, of course not.“ „You don’t think they’re capable of murder?“ Nedda shook her head. „Somebody hired him to kill you. Think about it, Nedda. Your brother and sister are always out of town when something happens. How many people knew you were back? And what happened to your baby sister? We can’t find any school records for Sally Winter. You think she lived long enough to go to school?“ Mallory looked down at the machine. „You’re heart is racing, Nedda.“ „Stop it!“ „Maybe they committed the perfect murder. That little girl was – “ „Detective Mallory, „Now, the attempt on Nedda’s hands rose to her head, warding off the words, her head making small jerking movements, hands rising like white fluttered wings, playing bird to Mallory’s cat. The detective pushed her chair back from the table. Her work was done. She could roughly predict the moment when Charles Butler would come barreling through the door. Oh, and here he was now. Such a gentleman, and so angry. Mallory joined Riker in the observation room. They watched the ongoing show from the dark side of the glass. Charles removed all the mechanical devices that had bound Nedda Winter to the chair and the machine. „She’ll talk to Charles.“ „Yeah,“ said Riker, „but I’m not sure there’s anything left for her to tell.“ Her partner had been against this idea of replacing the niece with a brand-new confidant for the old woman, but he had come up with no better plan. Nedda preceded Charles as he quit the interview room, slamming the door behind him, loud as a gunshot. Mallory, his unintended target, tensed every muscle in her body. She turned to face Riker, but he looked away, not wanting to meet her eyes anymore. These small things, the slam of a door, the turn of Riker’s head – they would remain with her for the rest of the day as a portent of things to come. She was always losing people. Edward Slope strolled up to the SoHo police station, and a uniformed officer rushed to open the door for him, though the younger man had no reason to recognize the chief medical examiner, a rare visitor in this precinct. Dr. Slope’s austere presence and excellent suit always commanded instant respect. As he approached the front desk, he wore his eyeglasses riding low on the bridge of his nose, not caring that his vision was blurred. The doctor had finished a morning’s pro bono work at the free clinic two blocks away, and he had seen quite enough for one day – homeless people dying of old age in their thirties and forties. Impaired vision or not, he could never have missed the physically imposing figure of Charles Butler – no more than he could fail to notice a Ko-diak bear in his shower stall. The man stood on the other side of the wide room, a head above the police officers gathered here and there in loose groups of twos and threes. Charles was deep in conversation with a tall white-haired woman and a child with pointed ears. Well, Dr. Slope raised his spectacles the better to see the latter as a more mundane person, a very small woman with a pixie haircut and ears that were disappointingly normal. Ah, and now he had attracted Charles Butler’s attention. Dr. Slope had never before seen this man angry. Charles had always impressed him as the most congenial of oversized humans, one who seemed embarrassed when he dwarfed other people. Well, this |
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