Rychman bit his lip and nodded. “Please… please do.”
Jessica sat down alongside Alan, the two of them waiting for Ames, who was waiting for Priscilla, to continue. Rychman began tapping with a pencil, his confused people looking on.
Sixteen
The room was darkened, and overhead, larger than life, was the handwriting of the Claw. The childish script of huge swirls and loops looked almost as if it had been intentionally used to throw police off. Dr. Ames, a huge, dark shadow beside the screen, pointed at each line as he discussed it.
“ His rage and anger have been sublimated by this fantastic idea that he has somehow done the right thing; his words here and here, about tearing out his victims' eyes, feeding on the soft flesh, are balanced by his holier-than-thou attitude that he is somehow the agent of a spirit beyond this world, an angel or archangel. He feels that the power controlling him is in fact superhuman, and so if it tells him to kill, if it tells him to feed on those he kills, he does so. Not that he is without fear of the spirit that has overtaken him, but it is this fear that motivates him. He would rather eat out the sins of his victims, swallow them down and accumulate them, than face this being from another world that has taken control of him.”
“ Then there are two killers and not one,” said someone in the group.
“ No,” Ames disagreed. “There is only one killer, but he is a psychopath who receives visits from a second, more powerful personality, the dire, black side of his own soul, perhaps. Voices he takes to be that of God or God-directed.”
“ Then he's one guy with two personalities?”
“ Two personalities, yes, but one is at the beck and call of the other, the weaker will subjugated by the more demonic.”
Jessica was unnerved by Ames' profile of the killer. He was describing Gerald Ray Sims and a host of others either behind bars or executed long ago.
Rychman said in her ear, “We should've postponed this, gotten together with Ames ourselves and hashed it out before we presented it in front of my people. This is going to send them out with a lot of mixed signals.”
Jessica interrupted Ames. “Dr. Ames, isn't it at all possible that the two personalities you're referring to are, in fact, two physically separate men? One dominated by the other?”
“ This is my interpretation of the poem the man has written. It fits the classic pattern of a dangerous psychopath.”
“ But isn't it possible that he could just as well be writing about himself and his dominant partner, the one he protects?”
Ames was decisive. “No… not in my estimation.”
Damn, she thought. “I really need those reports from J.T. now,” she told Rychman.
The lights came up on the confusion of sixty creased faces, each person and each team trying to weigh the theories and decide whether the Claw was a single individual with a dual personality, or a killing couple.
Rychman was as upset with the way things had gone as Jessica, and it appeared, finally, that Dr. Ames realized just how upset they were with him. “I'm sorry if my diagnosis of the situation does not fit neatly into your plans, but I must be honest,” he told them as he began to pack up his notes and files. Priscilla had already abandoned the overhead and was now waiting for him at the door.
Rychman shook Ames' hand and thanked him for coming, as did Jessica. When Ames disappeared, hands went up all over the room. Rychman said in his firmest voice, “I believe Dr. Ames is half-right, and Dr. Coran is half-right. At any rate, quite soon, we will have forensics evidence to prove one theory or the other. In the meantime, you have your assignments. Dig into the medical records of each victim, and think about-think about-the possibility of the Claw being the Claws. Dismissed.”
The room cleared quickly, leaving Rychman and Jessica alone. She said, “Sorry it went so badly.”
“ Oh, I don't think it went too badly,” he politely lied.
“ You're a terrible liar.”
“ When I wanna be, yeah.”
She shook her head, and her knuckles went white when she gripped her cane. “We completely confused your entire task force. It was a fiasco, admit it.”
“ They needed shaking up. Come on, you don't have to take this all on your shoulders, Jess.”
They had moved toward the door, and he turned off the light, leaving them in the dark, at close quarters. She could feel the strength and the heat coming off him as he nudged still closer, dipped his head downward and pressed his lips tenderly against hers. When he pulled away, he said, “I hope this is better than the elevator.”
“ You can't blame it on the wine this time,” she replied, reaching around his neck and kissing him in return.
Her cane slipped away and slapped against the floor with a crack that made her start.
Rychman felt her tremble under his touch, realizing she was teetering; he sensed that part of her wanted to give in to him, while another part wanted no romantic entanglements. He wisely let her go, lifted her cane and returned it to her, saying, “I hope we're still on for tonight.”
“ Tonight?”
“ The play? Dinner?”
“ Oh, I don't know, Alan.”
“ Come on, we both need to get some relief from this case, and what better way than an evening at the theater?”
She didn't readily answer. “Alan, there're a million things to do around here right now, and Dr. Darius and Archer can't do it alone, and-”
“ You've got a bad case of the ands, Doctor, and what is it they say? Physician, heal thyself?”
She smiled back at him. “Is that your prescription?”
“ Stop thinking in ands and show a little concern for your blood pressure, that's right.”
She knew it would be easy to become stressed-out if she chose to work at the lab tonight. And staying alone with her thoughts in her hotel room, uneasy about sleep for fear she'd return to the nightmares that featured Teach Matisak would be just as bad. With an expectant look into Alan's eyes, she finally replied, “What do you propose? Take an evening off and call you in the morning?”
“ Things'11 look a whole lot better in the morning,” he assured her, taking her hands in his. “Trust me.”
“ I want to, Alan, but-”
“ But what?”
“ I've… we've got important work to do here and to get involved in any but a professional relationship… well, it could jeopardize the investigation in ways neither of us can predict, and, and-”
“ There's those ands again. I told you it was a sickness. You're worrying about things that haven't happened and may not!”
“ And besides, there's just no future in our becoming romantically-”
He kissed her firmly yet gently, his passion once more getting the better of him. She felt her breath taken away and she returned his kiss. When they parted, he said simply, “We'll just see the play, have dinner. Anything else will be up to you.”
She laughed lightly. “I guess I do have a bad case of the ands. Maybe you're right. Maybe I do need a little time to call my own. Although I don't believe my boss at Quantico would understand.”
“ Is that an acceptance?”
She put her hands to her temples and said, “Yes and yes.”
It was getting very late, but Dr. Luther Darius was driven, refusing all overtures from his associate, Dr. Simon Archer, to vacate the lab and relent. First there was the double autopsy of the day before, and then a re-examination of the Hamner cadaver, and now personally overseeing every aspect of the laboratory follow-up work on Olin and Phillips. It was too much for any man, but when Simon Archer asked him if he didn't need rest, the old man told Archer that he planned to push himself further by re-examining all earlier evidence-taking that'd accompanied the various Claw-case autopsies.
“ Searching for what?”