[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Tell me what this guy is up to. Tell me how to find him.
I sat back down in the wobbly little chair. I don t think I can, Debs. I don t really have much of a feel
for what he s doing.
64 of 147
Bullshit, she said.
Seriously. I mean, technically speaking, he hasn t actually killed anybody, you know.
Dexter, she said, you already understand more about this guy than Kyle did, and he knows who it
is. We ve got to find him. We ve GOT to. She bit her lower lip, and I was afraid she would start
blubbering again, which would have left me totally helpless since she had already told me I couldn t say
There there again. But she pulled it together like the tough sergeant sister she was and merely blew
her nose again.
I ll try, Deb. Can I assume that you and Kyle have done all the basic work? Talked to witnesses and
so on?
She shook her head. We didn t need to. Kyle knew She paused at that past tense, and then went
on, very determined. Kyle KNOWS who did it, and he KNOWS who should be next.
Excuse me. He knows who s next?
Deborah frowned. Don t sound like that. Kyle said there are four guys in Miami who are on the list.
One of them is missing, Kyle figured he was already taken, but that gave us a little time to set up
surveillance on the other three.
Who are these four guys, Deborah? And how does Kyle know them?
She sighed. Kyle didn t tell me their names. But they were all part of a team of some kind. In El
Salvador. Along with this . . . Dr. Danco guy. So She spread her hands and looked helpless, a new
look for her. And although it gave her a certain little-girl charm, the only thing it did for me was to
make me feel even more put-upon. The whole world goes spinning merrily along, getting itself into the
most God-awful trouble, and then it s all up to Dashing Dexter to tidy things up again. It didn t seem
fair, but what can you do?
More to the point what could I do now? I didn t see any way to find Kyle before it was too late. And
although I am fairly sure I didn t say that out loud, Deborah reacted as if I had. She slapped one hand
on the table and said, We have to find him before he starts on Kyle. Before he even STARTS, Dexter.
Because I mean, am I supposed to hope Kyle will only lose an arm before we get there? Or a leg?
Either way, Kyle is . . . She turned away without finishing, looking out into the darkness through the
French doors by the little table.
She was right, of course. It looked like there was very little we could do to get Kyle back intact.
Because with all the luck in the world, even my dazzling intellect couldn t possibly lead us to him
before the work started. And then how long could Kyle hold out? Presumably he d had some sort of
training in dealing with this sort of thing, and he knew what was coming, so
But wait a moment. I closed my eyes and tried to think about it. Dr. Danco would know that Kyle was
a pro. And as I had already told Deborah, the whole purpose was to shatter the victim into screaming
unfixable pieces. Therefore . . .
I opened my eyes. Deb, I said. She looked at me. I am in the rare position of having some hope to
offer.
65 of 147
Spill it, she said.
This is only a guess, I said. But I think Dr. Demented will probably keep Kyle around for a while,
without working on him.
She frowned. Why would he do that?
To make it last longer, and to soften him up. Kyle knows what s coming. He s braced for it. But now,
imagine he s just left lying in the dark, tied up, so his imagination goes to work. And so I think
maybe, I added as it occurred to me, there s another victim ahead of him. The guy who s missing. So
Kyle hears it the saws and scalpels, the moans and whispers. He even smells it, knows it s coming but
doesn t know when. He ll be half crazy before he even loses a toenail.
Jesus, she said. That s your version of hope?
Absolutely. It gives us a little extra time to find him.
Jesus, she said again.
I could be wrong, I said.
She looked back out the window. Don t be wrong, Dex. Not this time, she said.
I shook my head. This was going to be pure drudgery, no fun at all. I could only think of two things to
try, and neither of them were possible until the morning. I glanced around for a clock. According to the
VCR, it was 12:00. 12:00. 12:00. Do you have a clock? I asked.
Deborah frowned. What do you want a clock for?
To find out what time it is, I said. I think that s the usual purpose.
What the hell difference does that make? she demanded.
Deborah. There is very little to go on here. We will have to go back and do all the routine stuff that
Chutsky pulled the department away from. Luckily, we can use your badge to barge around and ask
questions. But we will have to wait until morning.
Shit, she said. I hate waiting.
There there, I said. Deborah gave me a very sour look, but didn t say anything.
I didn t like waiting either, but I had done so much of it lately that perhaps it came easier to me. In any
case, wait we did, dozing in our chairs until the sun came up. And then, since I was the domestic one
lately, I made coffee for the two of us one cup at a time, since Deborah s coffeemaker was one of
those single-cup things for people who don t expect to be entertaining a great deal and don t actually
have a life. There was nothing in the refrigerator remotely worth eating, unless you were a feral dog.
Very disappointing: Dexter is a healthy boy with a high metabolism, and facing what was sure to be a
difficult day on an empty stomach was not a happy thought. I know family comes first, but shouldn t
that mean after breakfast?
66 of 147
Ah, well. Dauntless Dexter would make the sacrifice once again. Pure nobility of spirit, and I could
expect no thanks, but one does what one must.
CHAPTER 15
D R. MARK SPIELMAN WAS A LARGE MAN WHO LOOKED more like a retired linebacker than
an ER physician. But he had been the physician on duty when the ambulance delivered The Thing to
Jackson Memorial Hospital, and he was not at all happy about it. If I ever have to see something like
that again, he told us, I will retire and raise dachshunds. He shook his head. You know what the
ER at Jackson is like. One of the busiest. All the crazy stuff comes here, from one of the craziest cities
in the world. But this Spielman knocked twice on the table in the mild green staff lounge where we
sat with him. Something else, he said.
What s the prognosis? Deborah asked him, and he looked at her sharply.
Is that a joke? he said. There s no prognosis, and there s not going to be one. Physically, there s not
enough left to do anything but sustain life, if you want to call it that. Mentally? He put both hands
palm up and then dropped them on the table. I m not a shrink, but there s nothing left in there and no
way that he ll ever have a single lucid moment, ever again. The only hope he has is that we keep him so
doped up he doesn t know who he is, until he dies. Which for his sake we should all hope is soon. He
looked at his watch, a very nice Rolex. Is this going to take long? I am on duty, you know.
Were there traces of any drugs in the blood? Deborah asked. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]