Eleventh Hour

good.” He raised his hand and snapped two of his bony fingers together. “I’m eighty-seven years old. You think I care now if everyone knows? Hell, I deserve the attention, the recognition of what I did. What will they do? Put me on trial? Sentence me to the death penalty? Judging by the way I’m feeling these days, the blood I keep spitting up, I’m ready for the needle already. Not that they’d ever get the chance, a man of my age with cancer. Hey, you think I’m senile. Listen to this.” And the old man started humming “Eleanor Rigby” again, saw the shock on their faces, and laughed.
    Nick said, “And Weldon didn’t want you to tell anyone, did he?”
    “No, he claimed it’d ruin everything. He didn’t want it known that his pop was a serial killer. Weldon was always afraid of me, terrified of me when he discovered what I was doing, but he kept quiet, particularly after I told him I’d nail him upside down to a tree and skin him alive if he ever told anyone. He didn’t.”
    It was Dane who said slowly, “I remember when I first went to San Francisco Homicide after my brother’s murder. Inspector Delion said they’d found out from the bullet that the gun that killed my brother was like the gun the Zodiac killer used.”
    Captain DeLoach laughed again, whistled something no one knew through his teeth. “I’m impressed, Agent. I read about it at the time and it kind of got me started, you know? I wanted to be better than him. The least I could do was use the same kind of weapon he used. A fine gun—my JC Higgins model eighty.”
    Captain DeLoach sighed, rubbed his old hands together. “Nope, I wasn’t the Zodiac killer. I was really a bit more basic than the Zodiac killer was. But I liked his style. Isn’t that a kick? What a handle. Trust the media to always come up with a good sound bite. If only I’d been open about what I did, maybe I would have gotten a handle, too.”
    The old man frowned, looked off into nothing at all, said, “Hey, do you think he’s still around? Maybe he’s in a nursing home, just like I am. Maybe he’s here, you think?”
    No one said anything, just waited.
    Captain DeLoach continued singing, then he said, his voice sharp, “Your guy didn’t use my gun. Nope, mine’s hidden, and I’ll be glad to tell you where.” He gave them a big smile.
    Dane said, “Weldon knows. He has to.”
    Savich said, for the third time, “Tell us why your son wanted to kill you, sir.”
    The old man laughed, smacked his lips together, and started singing again.
    Nick moved close and said right in his face, “I saved your life, sir. I figure you owe me. Tell us the truth.”
    Captain DeLoach gave her a big smile, raised his veiny old hand, lightly touched his fingertips to her cheek. “So soft,” he said. “You want to know, do you, little girl? Yeah, I guess I do owe you. Weldon wanted to protect his boy.”
    “His boy?” Dane said. “Weldon has a son?”
    “Sure. Didn’t let me near him when he was young, but then he came here to meet me. I took care of him really good, now didn’t I? I got him all juiced up and now, here he is, following in his granddaddy’s footsteps. Weldon wanted to protect his boy, didn’t want to see him ruined, hounded by the media.”
    “Who is his boy, sir?” Savich said.
    “You’re FBI, son, it’s your job to find out. I don’t want to make things that easy for you.” He coughed, and a trickle of blood snaked out of his mouth.
    Sherlock said, “I don’t want to salute you, sir.”
    Captain DeLoach said, head cocked to the side, “Well, after all, you’re just a girl, when it all boils down to what’s important.”
    “And I’d say that you’re an evil old man.”
    “Oh yeah,” he said. “Oh yeah, I really am. And I’m eighty-seven years old and sitting real pretty. Ain’t life a kick?”

    When they reached the Ventura County Community Hospital, they saw Weldon, who didn’t look too good. He was pale, still in pain, and he knew the dam had burst. Everything he’d been struggling with was over now, and he knew it. Dane lightly laid his palm on Weldon’s shoulder. “I’m very sorry, Weldon. We’re all very sorry.”
    “You know,” Weldon said, his voice dead. “That wretched old man told you all of it?”
    Savich said, “Yes, your father finally got around to telling us in simple English, once I asked him to do it, with no crazy allusions or cover-ups. He’s really quite mad. I don’t think he’s