The Maze

nightmare?"

    "I don't know, Douglas. I really don't know."

    Slowly, she placed the phone back into its cradle. She looked up to see Savich standing there, a cup of tea in each hand. How long had he been there? As long as she imagined Candice Addams Madigan had been standing in Douglas's office?

    He handed her the cup. "Drink your tea. Then we'll go to the hospital again. I want to get this wrapped up, Sherlock."

    "Yes, sir."

    "Call me by my name or I'll tell Chico to wrap your karate belt around your neck."

    "Yes, Dillon."

    "Here's to catching the String Killer and ridding you of all your baggage. Is your brother-in-law to be considered baggage?"

    She took a long drink of the hot tea. It was wonderful. She still needed another pain pill. She said finally, shrugging, "He's just Douglas. I never really realized the way he felt, until he was here in Washington just a couple of weeks ago. But he's remarried now."

    "Lucky for you, I'd say. I can't see that guy giving up all that easily."

    "How would you know that?"

    "I know everything. I'm a Special Agent."

    He probably did, she thought, and excused herself to take another pill.

    Rain splattered against the hospital window. The officer in the chair was sitting forward. Lacey leaned over the bed and said in a soft voice, "Hello, Marlin. Do you remember me? I'm the woman you bashed on the head, took to your little playhouse, and forced through your little house of horrors. But I really won and you lost big-time."

    "What's your name?"

    "Lacey Sherlock."

    "No one's named that. That's stupid. That's out of some dumb detective story. What's your real name?"

    "It's Sherlock, Marlin. Didn't I track you down? Didn't I bring you in? Wouldn't you say I've earned the name?"

    "I don't like you, Marty."

    "It's Lacey."

    "I like you even less now than I did before."

    "Do you mind if I turn on the tape recorder again, Marlin?"

    "No, go ahead. Turn it on. I like to hear myself talk. I'm a real good talker. Mr. Caine, he's the guy who owns the Appletree Home Supplies and Mill Yard, he begged me to be his assistant manager. He knew I could sell anybody anything, and he knew that I was an expert on everything to do with building."

    "Yeah, you're really great, Marlin. But a question. Tell me why you refused to say a word to the police. Why?"

    "I just want to talk to you, Marty. I'm going to kill you one of these days, and I want to get to know you better."

    "If it makes you feel good, you just keep holding on to that thought, Marlin. You want to talk? Tell me why you killed Hillary Ramsgate. She wasn't married. All the other women you've killed were married."

    "I knew her boyfriend, well I didn't really know him, I just saw him a bunch of times. He told a group of guys that she was a ball buster and once he had her married, he was going to teach her a lesson."

    "Where was this, Marlin?"

    "At a bar, the Glad Rags, in Newton Center. He was there a whole lot. He'd sleep with her, let her tell him what a jerk he was, then come to the bar and let it an out. I told him he should punish her, that she deserved it."

    "Did you go into the Glad Rags a lot?"

    "Oh yeah. I wanted to see this Hillary woman. He brought her in one night. They had a big argument right there. She even threw a beer in his face. She cursed him up one side and down the other. She even called him a motherfucker. Most women, even bad ones like you, they don't say that word. That's a word for real bad guys. Well, all the other guys were laughing, but I wasn't. I knew she had to be punished and that he wasn't ever going to do it right. No, if anything, he'd just smack her around a little bit. You know that while she was tearing him down, that guy just laughed, he just took it. I would have sliced her up right there."

    "Maybe her boyfriend liked exactly the way things were between them. Did you ever think of that?"

    "No, that's impossible. She was bad. He was just weak and stupid."

    "Did you go to lots of bars, Marlin?"

    "Oh yes. I like bars. You can sit there in the dark and watch people. No one hassles you. I saw lots of women who needed to be punished."

    "How many different bars?"

    He shrugged, then winced, lightly touching his fingertips to his stomach. "About a half dozen, I guess. Lots more in San Francisco. You should have been sliced up too, Marty. But you don't cuss, do you? Not really. I'll bet you're not married either. You're just a cop. You just said all those bad words to trap me."

    "I