Along Came a Spider

her. “You just said the man in the car was
watching
Gary Soneji. You said he was
watching him
.”
    “I did say that, didn’t I? I forgot all about it. Nina been saying the men was together. Like a salesman team or something. You know, the way they come stake out a street, sometimes. But way back, she told me the man in the car was watching the other one. I believe that what she said. I’m almost sure. Let me get Nina. I’m not so sure anymore.”
    Soon, the three of us were sitting together and talking. Mrs. Cerisier helped me with Nina, and Nina finally cooperated. Yes, she was sure the man in the car
had been watching Gary Soneji
. The man wasn’t there
with
Soneji. Nina Cerisier definitely remembered the man in the car
watching
the other man.
    She didn’t know whether it had been a white or a black man watching. She hadn’t mentioned it before because it didn’t seem important, and the police would have asked even more questions. Like most kids in Southeast, Nina hated the police and was afraid of them.
    The man in the car had been
watching
Gary Soneji.
    Maybe there hadn’t been an “accomplice” after all, but someone Gary Soneji/Murphy as he staked out potential murder victims? Who could it have been?

CHAPTER 71

    I WAS ALLOWED to visit Soneji/Murphy, but only in connection with the Sanders and Turner murder investigations. I could see him about crimes that would probably never go to trial, but not about one that could possibly remain unsolved. So goes the tale of the red tape.
    I had a friend out at Fallston, where Gary was imprisoned. I’d known Wallace Hart, the chief of psychiatry at Fallston, since I’d joined the D.C. police force. Wallace was waiting for me in the lobby of the ancient facility.
    “I like this kind of personal attention,” I said as I shook his hand. “First time I’ve ever got any, of course.”
    “You’re a celebrity now, Alex. I saw you on the tube.”
    Wallace is a small scholarly looking black man who wears round bottle glasses and baggy blue business suits. He reminds people of George Washington Carver, maybe crossed with Woody Allen. He looks as if he were black
and
Jewish.
    “What do you think about Gary so far?” I asked Wallace as we took a prison elevator up to the maximum-security floor. “Model prisoner?”
    “I’ve always had a soft spot for psychopaths, Alex. They keep shit interesting. Imagine life without the real bad guys. Very boring.”
    “You’re not buying the possibility of multiple personalities, I take it?”
    “I think it’s a possibility, but very slim. Either way, the bad boy in him is really bad. I’m surprised he got his ass in a sling, though. I’m surprised he got caught.”
    I said, “Want to hear one off-the-wall theory? Gary Murphy caught Soneji. Gary
Murphy
couldn’t handle Soneji, so he turned him in.”
    Wallace grinned at me. He had a big toothy smile for such a little face. “Alex, I do like your crazy mind. But do you really buy that? One side turning in the other?”
    “Nope. I just wanted to see if you would. I’m beginning to think he’s a psycho all the way. I just need to know how far all the way is. I observed a definite paranoid personality disorder when I was seeing him.”
    “I agree with that. He’s mistrustful, demanding, arrogant, driven. Like I say, I love the guy.”
    I was a little shocked when I finally saw Gary this time. His eyes appeared to be sunken into his skull. The orbs were red-rimmed, as if he were suffering from conjunctivitis. The skin was pulled tight all around his face. He’d lost a lot of weight, maybe thirty pounds, and he’d been fit and trim to begin with.
    “So I’m a little depressed. Hello, Doctor.” He looked up from his cot and spoke to me. He was Gary
Murphy
again. At least he seemed to be.
    “Hello, Gary,” I said. “I couldn’t stay away.”
    “Long time no visits. You must want something. Let me guess — you’re doing a book about me. You want to be the next Anne Rule?”
    I shook my head. “I wanted to come and see you long before this. I had to get a court order first. I’m here to talk about the Sanders and Turner murders, actually.”
    “Really?” He seemed resigned and his affect was indifferent and passive. I didn’t like the way he looked. It struck me that his personality could be on the verge of complete disintegration.
    “I’m only
allowed
to talk to you about the Sanders and Turner murders, in fact. That’s my purview. But we could