Brazen Virtue

Morrison don’t fit.”
    “I know.” Hadn’t he read every report word by word, hoping for a link? “Maybe he hasn’t hit on another woman, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t hit. You know, when a rapist is prevented from following through, he only gets more frustrated and angry. And he’s a kid. He has to take it out on someone.”
    “So you figure he was ready for a fight, looking to mix it up with some other kid?”
    “I figure he’d go after someone weaker, someone he thought was weaker anyway. It’d make him feel better if it was someone he knew.”
    “So we can check the arrest reports for assaults over the last couple of days.”
    “And the hospitals. I don’t think he’d settle for a little pushy-shovey.”
    “You’re starting to think like Tess.” Ben grinned at him. “That’s why I love you. That’s probably her now,” he said as the phone rang. “I told her to give me a call when she got home.”
    “Tell her to push calcium.” Ed picked up the file again. The tone of Ben’s voice had him ignoring it.

    “When? You got an address? You and Renockie cover us here and we’ll take it. Look, Lowenstein, I don’t give a shit who— Who? Christ.” Ben ran a hand over his face and tried to think. “Get Judge Meiter, he’s a Republican. No, I’m not kidding. I want the warrant in my hands in an hour or we go without it.”
    He hung up. If he could have risked it, he’d have taken a nice clean shot of vodka. “Got an identification on the sketch. A kid in Georgetown Hospital fingered a school buddy who tried to smother his windpipe. He’s a senior at St. James’s. The captain’s sending someone down to get a written statement.”
    “Do we have a name?”
    “Caller ID’d our boy as Jerald Hayden, address is smack dab in the middle of Billings’s little square.”
    “Then let’s move.”
    “We’ve got to go through channels on this one, partner.”
    “Fuck channels.”
    Ben didn’t bother to point out that Ed was the one who always touched the system. “The kid’s the son of Charlton P. Hayden, the people’s choice.”
    Ed stared at him for several long seconds. “I’m going up to get Grace.”
    Ben barely nodded before the phone rang again. “Paris.”
    “Ben, I’m sorry to interrupt.”
    “Look, Doc, I can’t tie up this phone.”
    “I’ll be quick. I think it may be important.”
    With a check of his watch Ben figured Lowenstein still had fifty-eight minutes to come through. “Shoot.”
    “I’m skirting very close to patient confidentiality here.” And that had worried her all during her soul-searching. “I talked with a woman today, a woman I know. She’s concerned about her son. He was in an apparently serious fight at school yesterday. He nearly strangled another boy. Ben, a great deal of what she told me mirrors the profile on your serial killer.”

    “He broke someone else’s toy,” Ben murmured. “Give me a name, Doc.” When he was met with silence, he pictured her, sitting at her desk wrestling with her oath and her conscience. “Play it this way. Tell me if this name sounds familiar. Jerald Hayden.”
    “Oh God.”
    “Tess, I need clout. We’re already working on the warrant. A call from you would speed it up.”
    “Ben, I agreed to take this boy on as a patient.”
    There was no use swearing at her, he thought. She couldn’t help herself. “Then you can consider it in his best interest for us to bring him in quick. And alive. Get in touch with Harris, Tess. Tell him what you told me.”
    “Be careful. He’s much more dangerous now.”
    “You and Junior wait up for me. I’m crazy about you.”
    Ben put down the receiver as Ed led Grace into the room. “Ed says you know who he is.”
    “Yeah. You ready to retire as a phone mistress?”
    “More than. How much longer before you have him?”
    “We’re getting a warrant. You’re a little pale, Grace. Want a brandy?”
    “No. Thanks.”
    “That was Tess.” Ben took out a cigarette, lit it, and handed it to Grace. “Washington’s a small town. She talked with Jerald Hayden’s mother today. The lady thinks her kid needs a shrink.”
    “It’s funny.” Grace blew out a stream of smoke as she waited for it to sink in. “I thought when it happened it would be sort of climactic. Instead, it’s a phone call and a piece of paper.”
    “Police work’s mostly paperwork,” Ed told her.
    “Yeah.” She tried to smile. “I’ve got the same problem with my job. I want to see