The moment Covey stepped into the interrogation room, he went on the defensive. A big bull of a man, he looked like King Rat here, his muscles bulging so that his prison shirt pulled and tugged with each movement he made. He obviously took great care of his physical health, and for a man his age, he seemed incredibly fit. His eyes were an icy gray steel, and they bored into Lucas as he asked Meredyth,
“What's he for? I thought you wanted to talk cozy-like, just the two of us. Jack don't fancy talking to no one else. Get 'im outta here, or Jack don't talk.” He referred to himself in the third person.
“We're partners,” she countered. 'This is Detective Lucas Stonecoat.”
“HPD? I don't deal with HPD, no, never.”
“Dallas,” lied Lucas, quickly showing his gold shield from Dallas.
“DPD, HPD… where's the difference? You're all scum.”
“Hold on, there.” Lucas's voice rose an octave, but Meredyth stood and stepped between the two men.
“Now look here, Mr. Covey.”
“Jack, he likes to be called Jack,” Covey replied, “sweetheart. What's wrong, you afraid to be in a room alone with Jack?”
“No, Jack, but my partner has to know what I know. You've got to remember how it was with you and Felipe.”
“Felipe got himself killed knowing what I know. You want me killed?”
“You help us, Jack,” she countered, “and we'll see your sentence is reduced, and you'll be out of here a great deal sooner than you could ever hope for through any other avenue.”
“I'd be out by now if Jack hadn't made that stupid getaway attempt.” He grinned at her, searching for some sign of understanding.
She tried to assure him that she was on his side. “I know that, but this is no stupid getaway attempt. Work with us.”
He again suspiciously eyed Stonecoat.
“Sit down,” she suggested.
“I could be murdered in my sleep just for talking to you people,” he muttered. “I told everyone inside that Jack was talking to a shrink about his problem. Jack even showed around a picture of you, darling.”
“A picture of me?” She was surprised, and Stonecoat was equally surprised.
“I still get the Police Gazette, sweetheart, and Jack can read. Read it from cover to cover. Guys in the joint think he's screwy, but we all know better, don't we, Doctor? Jack tells 'em on the inside that there's a lot to learn from the Gazette, and I particularly enjoyed your article on-”
“ 'The Psychology of Pedophiles and Interrogation Techniques,' yes.”
“Yeah, gave him a thrill, a whole new insight.”
“Insight into himself, or how better to behave during an inquiry, you mean?”
Covey gave a broken-toothed, tobacco-stained, loose-lipped laugh as his response. He appeared to have disgusting habits, despite an otherwise solid, masterful physique. He looked as if he'd had his nose broken on more than one occasion. Stonecoat sensed it was best to keep silent, to let Meredyth work her unique magic with this cretin.
'The article gave Jack plenty of insight-insight into you, Meredyth.” He looked up at Stonecoat, glaring, still feeling he'd been cheated of his private moment with this celebrity, Meredyth Sanger. “You show guys like Jack a great deal of… of genuine… compassion. Jack likes a girl with compassion, understanding, you know?”
'That article was about cop psychology and how foolishly some cops treat pedophiles, that in treating them as untouchable monsters, they easily lose the upper hand in interrogating the pedophile. It was about a cop's need to distance him self from the emotional constraints of a crime that involves children, not about-”
“It spoke volumes to Jack,” he countered, his hand having almost imperceptibly slithered across the table toward her.
Except for the bad teeth and scars, Covey was not unattractive for a man his age, and she could see how he might easily lure a young person, boy or girl, into his warped world of sexual deviancy. His size, his stature, his badge. His eyes and his firm features and granite build could mesmerize, never mind the fact that he was a “Blue
Centurion,” with all the trappings of authority. It wasn't hard to understand how young people might find him charismatic. His allure had surely tarnished by now, but apparently Jack didn't think so.
“Jack likes you, Meredyth, very much,” he cooed, his hand closer now.
She backed her seat away, the chair screeching in response. She was glad Stonecoat was nearby, but she wondered if Lucas were any match for the huge man, despite the age difference, should Covey come over the table at her.
“You told 'em,” he said, “you told 'em all that it was an uncontrollable sickness, what people like Jack have. You told 'em it wasn't some habit like smoking or drinking, that it ran deeper than a conditioned habit. You told 'em that Jack's brain, his genetic makeup, was as much to blame as his upbringing, didn't you? You told the world that Jack was not responsible for the stripes God put on his back.”
She hadn't exactly exonerated him as much as he had exonerated himself, but for the sake of keeping on Covey's good side, she nodded. “Yeah, Jack, that's what I said.”
She heard Lucas groan, as if to say, Oh, brother. But fortunately he kept his feelings to himself.
“Jack likes your savvy, Meredyth. The way you called him up, the way you come to see him. Now, ain't it funny, Jack already knew who you were when you told him who you were on the phone. Jack thinks it's like that kismet thing, you know, fate. You think you could learn to like Jack? Maybe come to visit him on a routine basis, without a reason and without your friend here?” Covey sneered up at Lucas, who kept his stony Indian features set.
The man made her skin crawl. She knew now he was put away for exactly what he was, and that she was experiencing the same emotions she had preached against in her article in the Gazette about interrogating a child molester.
Covey smiled a rotten-toothed smile at her, his wrinkles causing his jaw to sag. “Jack's quite taken with you. Jack knows you understand him completely. No woman's ever done that for Jack before…” The man's hand snaked forward quickly now, taking hers in his.
Stonecoat came off the wall, shouting, “Take your hand off Dr. Sanger!”
Meredyth shouted, “Shut up, Lucas! If Jack wants to hold my hand, then Jack holds my damned hand!”
Covey growled a bear like sound at Stonecoat and held firm to Meredyth's hand. “God… been so long since Jack's touched a woman…”
He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her hand as it throbbed in his.
“We're here to talk to you about the Palmer investigation, Jack. When you were a cop, doing a job, remember? Remember Dr. Wesley Palmer?”
“'Course I do. Got me in here, it did, and my name's John. Jack's the bastard controls my dick, but I'm the brains here.” He dashed her hand down as if it burned his.
She wondered if the man was play-acting for them or if he'd ever been diagnosed as having a split personality.
“Palmer case got Felipe killed and got me shut up like a goddamned animal, in more ways than one.” He guffawed until he coughed and spit.
“Tell us about that, John,” she suggested.
“Felipe was knifed, assassinated really. He was coming from a neighborhood grocery story with two bags, one in each arm, when they jumped him. Felipe wasn't a bad guy; made a good partner. Stayed out of my business.”
“Go on, tell us how he was killed.”
“Three, maybe four thugs dressed in black, according to witnesses. They took his wallet to make it look like a street mugging, but there were four puncture wounds direct to the man's heart, six to the lungs, twelve in all in the space of seconds. I'm telling you, they descended on him like locusts.”
“Who were they?”
“I don't know. I never got the chance to find out. Next thing I know, they got me on trumped-up charges, things Jack was into. They set Jack up, suckered him right in. You find that girl they gave Jack to play with, and maybe she can tell you who they were. They musta paid her plenty.”