"I think he is," Ness said flatly. "But much as I dislike it, we have to take his social standing into consideration."
Curry's face reddened. " Why in hell?"
"Because that social standing means the Watterson; can afford the highest-priced lawyers the country has to offer-we will have to mount a cast-iron case before we go to court on this one."
"There's another reason, too," Chamberlin said somberly, looking sideways at Curry.
"What?" Curry asked.
"The mayor," Ness said.
"The mayor?"
Chamberlin said, "Dr. Watterson is a personal friend of the mayor's. He was on the mayoral reelection campaign committee. He was a major contributor to His Honor's campaign coffers."
Curry smiled mirthlessly. "You're not saying the mayor would want us to cover this up, just because-"
"No!" Ness said. "No. We've just been requested to be careful to make sure the Watterson's are not unduly, unnecessarily embarrassed. By the press or otherwise. Until we are ready to charge Lloyd Watterson with murder, we have to keep this tightly- tightly — under wraps."
Curry's eyes locked with Ness's. Then the younger detective nodded and looked away.
"That," Ness said, standing, gesturing over to the desk, "is one of the reasons why I'm going to administer a lie detector test today, in this hotel suite, rather than take the suspect to Central headquarters and do so. It's why we borrowed the latest federal equipment."
"Also," Chamberlin said, "it's good procedure."
"How?" Curry said. Sarcasm faintly etched his tone.
"The federal approach to polygraph testing," Ness said, "keys off maintaining the composure of the person being questioned. That's why I wanted one of the federal polygraph 'desks,' where the testing apparatus is largely hidden. Intimidation by scientific gizmos only serves to screw up the testing." He gestured about the hotel suite. "This is ideal-pleasant, quiet surroundings for a friendly interview."
"And," Chamberlin said, "the fourteenth floor is empty at the moment. We're the only guests."
Ness checked his watch. "They'll be here momentarily."
"They?" Curry asked.
Ness nodded. "It's the father and son. I didn't call Lloyd, you see-I called the father. Dr. Clifford Watterson. told him we had certain evidence against his son in this matter and I wanted to give his son the opportunity to clear himself via lie detector. No lawyers, no police. Just myself, polygraph, and two citizens cooperating unofficially."
"Well, hell," Curry said, "lie detector testing isn't infallible."
"I know it isn't," Ness said. "We might be dealing with a subject whose rationalization and self-deceit enables him to pass with flying colors. And I didn't mean to imply to Dr. Watterson that I was offering a deal, that I would drop the matter if his son passed the test."
"But," Chamberlin said with a nasty little smile, "if Dr. Watterson chose to interpret it that way, that's up to him."
Ness walked to a doorway not far from the brown leather chair by the lie-detector desk. "This is to the adjoining room. Keep the connecting door unlocked. If Lloyd Watterson is the Butcher-and we have reason to believe that to be the case-anything could happen in here. You are my backup, gents."
Curry nodded.
"Also," Ness continued, "I had this room wired. You're going to be listening in, next door, recording everything."
"It won't be admissible," Curry said. "The son of a bitch could confess, and we couldn't do a thing about it."
"Sure we could," Ness said. "If we have something of that nature, we can pressure the father into doing the right thing. Otherwise we'll make the tape public and watch all hell break loose."
Curry lifted an eyebrow and nodded.
Ness went to him and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, smiling gently. "Don't despair. We're going to get this bastard. It won't take long to build a solid chain of circumstantial evidence-look what you've dug up in less than forty-eight hours. We'll get him."
Curry smiled faintly, nodded again, and went into the next room.
Chamberlin sighed and smiled. He stood close to Ness and said, "The kid's an idealist, Eliot."
"I know," Ness said. "And I agree with him one hundred percent."
"We work for the mayor," Chamberlin reminded him.
"Yes," Ness said, "but we mostly work for the people I'll put up with this political bullshit only so long as it doesn't interfere with that."
There was a sharp knock at the door.
Chamberlin scurried into the adjoining room, and Ness went to answer the door.
Dr. Watterson's darkly handsome features were a mask; if any emotion had touched him upon hearing his son was suspected of being the worst mass murderer in midwesten memory, it was not apparent. Tall, sturdy, dressed impeccably in a three-piece brown silk suit, Watterson offered his hand and a small polite smile.
Ness shook the hand and gave a polite smile in return. For a moment he thought Watterson hadn't brought Lloyd but Lloyd was there, standing behind his father, hiding, a little boy's smile dancing on his lips. Ness felt suddenly like a grade-school principal.
They stepped inside. Lloyd was equally well-dressed though his suit was undertaker black. The area around his nose, beneath his eyes, was bruised from the battle with Wild. He said, "Hello, Eliot," and gave his hand to Ness. Ness shook the powerful, clammy hand and studied the man's twitching smile.
"I appreciate your giving us a chance to clear this matter up," Dr. Watterson said, following Ness into the suite.
"Well, I appreciate you and your son giving us the chance to do so," Ness said, and smiled in a businesslike manner. He gestured to the sofa where minutes before Chamberlin and Curry had sat.
Ness again sat in the straight-backed chair. He looked at the father and son and noted that, apart from their size, there was no family resemblance between dark doctor father and fair failed-doctor son.
"We have a certain amount of circumstantial evidence," Ness began, speaking to the father, "suggesting that your son may have some knowledge pertaining to the ongoing investigation of the so-called Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run."
Dr. Watterson's smile was a twitch, too, but not a nervous one. "I'm well aware of the case, Mr. Ness. You know very well I've been involved in the pathological workups on several of the victims."
"Yes. I just feel we should begin at the beginning. I want both you and your son to understand why we find it necessary to trouble you with this. I don't have to tell you of the level of concern in the community over these crimes."
"You certainly do not," Dr. Watterson said.
"Also," Ness said diplomatically, "we have a report of violence at your son's home yesterday."
"I told you on the phone," the doctor said curtly, "what my son's position is on that matter. We're discussing with our attorneys whether or not to bring charges against Mr. Wild and Miss Chalmers."
Ness nodded slowly. "I can understand that. That might be appropriate. However, it might simply serve to open an embarrassing can of worms."
Dr. Watterson s patronizing mask slipped just a bit; and Ness noticed that the man's eyes did have some spiderwebbing of red. Lloyd seemed to be trying to suppress the urge to giggle.
"There can be no doubt," Ness said, "that your son is living in a building once used as a doctor's surgery."
"We don't deny that," Dr. Watterson said. "It's where I first worked."
"Yes. And, having been involved with the Butcher investigation, you know that we have been searching for a 'murder lab,' for want of a better term, somewhere in the areas adjoining the Run. Now, and I'm afraid this is a little embarrassing, Dr. Watterson… but I've done some checking with the fire wardens."
Dr. Watterson frowned. Lloyd smiled.
"You see, I wondered how it could be that my search of those areas by fire wardens, accompanied by homicide detectives, might have missed such an obvious 'murder lab' candidate. I have since learned that you own a number of properties, in addition to your former residence cum surgery, rooming houses, all of which are in the less-than-prosperous areas bordering Kingsbury Run. I have also learned that Lloyd, as the manager of your business affairs, is in charge of those properties; that he calls regularly upon the landladies tending those properties; that he keeps rooms at those properties where he often stays under assumed names."