The Mephisto Club

closer, moving in like a predator. “Did he take it with him, as a trophy? A reminder of his kill?”
    “Tell us where you were last night.”
    “Or did he leave the head at the scene? Someplace where it would elicit maximum shock? Someplace it would be impossible to miss? A kitchen counter, perhaps? Or a prominent place on the floor?”
    “Who were you with?”
    “It’s a potent message, displaying a head, a face. It’s the killer’s way of telling you he’s in complete control. He’s showing you how powerless you are, Detective. And how powerful he is.”
    “Who were you with?”
The instant the words were out, Jane knew they were a mistake. She’d allowed O’Donnell to goad her, and she had lost her temper. The ultimate sign of weakness.
    “My friendships are private,” O’Donnell said, and added, with a quiet smile, “Except for the one you already know about. Our mutual acquaintance. He keeps asking about you, you know. Always wants to know what you’re up to.” She did not have to say his name. They both knew she was talking about Warren Hoyt.
    Don’t react,
thought Jane.
Don’t let her see how deeply she’s dug her claws into me.
But she could feel her own face snap taut and saw Frost glance at her with concern. The scars that Hoyt had left on Jane’s hands were only the most obvious wounds; there were far deeper ones. Even now, over two years later, she flinched at the mention of his name.
    “He’s a fan of yours, Detective,” said O’Donnell. “Even though he’ll never walk again because of you, he bears you absolutely no grudge.”
    “I couldn’t care less what he thinks.”
    “I went to see him last week. He showed me his collection of news clippings. His
Janie file,
as he calls it. When you were trapped in that hospital siege, over the summer, he kept the TV on all night. Watched every second of it.” O’Donnell paused. “He told me you had a baby girl.”
    Jane’s back went rigid.
Don’t let her do this to you. Don’t let her dig those claws in deeper.
    “I believe your daughter’s name is Regina, isn’t it?”
    Jane rose to her feet, and though she was shorter than O’Donnell, something in Jane’s eyes made the other woman abruptly step back. “We’ll be calling on you again,” said Jane.
    “Call me all you want,” said O’Donnell. “I have nothing else to tell you.”
                      
    “She’s lying,” said Jane.
    She yanked open the car door and slid in behind the wheel. There she sat, staring at a scene that was Christmas card–pretty, the sun glistening on icicles, the snow-frosted houses decked in tasteful wreaths and holly. No garish Santas and reindeer on this street, no rooftop extravaganzas like the ones in Revere, where she had grown up. She thought of Johnny Silva’s house, just down the street from her parents’, and of the long lines of rubberneckers from miles around who’d detour onto their street, just to gape at the eye-popping light show that the Silvas put up in their front yard every December. There you’d find Santa and the three wise men and the manger with Mary and Jesus and a menagerie of so many animals it would’ve sunk Noah’s ark. All lit up like a carnival. You could have powered a small African nation with the electricity the Silvas burned through every Christmas.
    But here on Brattle Street, there were no such gaudy spectacles, only understated elegance. No Johnny Silvas lived here. She’d rather have that moron Johnny for a neighbor than the woman who lived in this house.
    “She knows more about this case than she’s telling us.”
    “How do you draw that conclusion?” asked Frost.
    “Instinct.”
    “I thought you didn’t believe in instinct. That’s what you always tell me. That it’s nothing better than a lucky guess.”
    “But I know this woman. I know what makes her tick.” She looked at Frost, whose winter pallor seemed even more pronounced in the weak sunshine. “She got more than a hang-up call from the killer last night.”
    “You’re guessing.”
    “Why did she erase it?”
    “Why wouldn’t she? If the caller left no message?”
    “That’s her story.”
    “Oh man. She got to you.” He shook his head. “I knew she would.”
    “She didn’t get close.”
    “Yeah? When she started talking about Regina, that didn’t light your fuse? She’s a shrink. She knows just how to manipulate you. You shouldn’t even be dealing with her.”
    “Who should? You? That