King glanced over at the coatrack. “You were doing Hinson’s post the night Battle was killed. You said Kyle came to the morgue that night, but you didn’t mention that you’d seen or spoken to him, only that he’d accessed the door, and that was recorded on the security log.”
“I never saw him. I was in the back working on Hinson.”
“Not around ten o’clock you weren’t. And that’s probably what Kyle saw, or, more to the point, didn’t see.” He pointed at the neatly arranged things by the coatrack. “Your jacket, shoes and such you always place there when you’re here working. And it’s also pretty strange to perform an autopsy at night and without assistance or a witness, as you did with Hinson. You gave Todd such a hard time about him ducking the other autopsies, but you didn’t want him at Hinson’s, because you had someplace else to be. Namely, killing Bobby during the nurse changeover. You feigned illness when Todd called you later that night about Battle’s death because you had to complete Hinson’s post, or else you couldn’t bring yourself to see Battle’s body so soon after you’d killed him.”
“That’s crazy. And I wanted to perform the autopsy as quickly as possible. The body will only give clues for a certain period of—”
“Save the lecture for somebody who cares,” said King. “I’m betting Kyle put all this together and tried to blackmail you. So you came to me with the perfectly true fact that he was stealing drugs and selling them, and I told you I’d have Todd see Kyle the next day. Only by then you’d killed him. Maybe you went right after we finished dinner. And during the post you conveniently found enough evidence to make it look like murder. And of course there was Dorothea ready to take the blame, which I’m certain was your intent. In fact, I bet you recognized her at the Aphrodisiac and knew she was Kyle’s drug client.”
He looked over at her. She was simply staring blankly at him now. “But was it all worth it for a monster like Battle? Was it, Sylvia? You were just one in a hundred. He didn’t love you. He didn’t love anyone.”
She picked up the phone. “Unless you leave right now I’m calling the police.”
King rose. “Oh, just so you know, Eddie put me onto this. He knew you’d killed his father; that’s why he was going to kill you.”
“So now you’re listening to convicted murderers?”
“Ever heard of a guy named Teet Haerm?”
“No.”
“He lived in Sweden. Maybe still does. He was accused of killing some people back in the eighties. He was arrested and convicted, but it was later overturned and he was set free.”
“And what exactly does that have to do with me?” she said icily.
“Teet Haerm was the medical examiner for the city of Stockholm. It’s said that he even performed the autopsies on some of his victims. Probably the only time that had ever happened. At least until now. Eddie left a clue behind, only he misspelled it on purpose. He wanted to get to you first after all.” He paused and added, “I don’t know if Teet was guilty or not, but I know you are.”
“And you can’t prove one word of anything you’ve said.”
“You’re right, I can’t,” conceded King. “At least not right now. But let me tell you something, lady, I’m not going to stop trying. In the meantime I hope your guilt will ruin your life.”
King walked out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.
Chapter 101
King and Michelle boarded the small plane and flew down to South Carolina. From there they drove an hour to the maximum security prison Eddie Battle had been transferred to and where he would spend the rest of his life. Michelle chose to wait outside while King went in.
Eddie was brought in wearing shackles and surrounded by four beefy guards who never took their eyes off him. Eddie’s hair was shaved to the scalp, and there were scars and wounds on his face and forearms which King knew had been inflicted since he’d been incarcerated. He wondered how many others were hidden under the jumpsuit. He sat down across from Eddie. They were separated by inch-thick Plexiglas. King had already been instructed on all the visitor’s rules, chief of which was to make no sudden moves and never ever try to have any physical contact with the prisoner.
King knew he’d have no trouble following those procedures.
“I’d ask you how it’s going, but I can see.”
Eddie shrugged. “It’s not that bad. Pretty basic stuff. Kill or be killed and I’m still here.” He eyed King with a curious look. “Didn’t expect to be seeing you again.”
“I had a few questions to ask you. And then I had something to tell you. What do you want first?”
“Give me the questions. The boys in here don’t have many. Spend most of my time in the library. Lifting weights, playing ball, getting some of the boys organized into a team. They won’t let me paint, though. Guess they’re afraid I’ll drown somebody in a bucket. Shoot.”
“First question: Did your father’s stroke start everything in motion?”
Eddie nodded. “I’d been thinking about it for a while. Wasn’t sure if I’d have the balls to actually do it. When the old man went down, it just snapped in my head. Now or never.”
“Second question: Why kill Steve Canney? I thought you did it for your mother, but now I know that wasn’t the case.”
Eddie shifted in his seat, the shackles rattling. One of the guards looked over. Eddie smiled and waved before looking back at King. “My parents let my brother die, and my old man goes off and has another son with some slut. Well, I didn’t want or need another brother. This Canney kid grew up healthy and strong. That should’ve been Bobby, you hear me? It should’ve been Bobby.” His voice rose higher, and now all four guards looked over. King didn’t know if he was more frightened of Eddie or them.
“Third question: What made you kill Junior? At first I thought it was because you believed he’d stolen from your mother. Now I know you wouldn’t have cared about that. So why?”
“There was a drawing of my brother that got busted up during the burglary.”
“Your mother showed me it.”
“It was a drawing of Bobby before he got really sick.” Eddie paused and put his shackled hands on the wood in front of him. “I was the one who drew it. I loved that picture. And I wanted it in Mom’s room so she’d always know what she did. When I saw it smashed up, I knew I’d kill whoever had done it. I thought Junior had broken it. That was his death sentence.”
King suppressed a shudder at Eddie’s reasoning for murder and said, “In case you’re interested, this has all really hit Remmy hard, though she tries not to show it.”
“She’s just lucky I didn’t have the guts to kill her.”
“Did you come up with the plan to impersonate famous serial killers because of Chip Bailey?”
Eddie grinned. “Old Chippy. Bragged all the time about how much smarter he was than everyone else, how much he knew about serial killers, their M.O. He claimed he could run down the smartest of them. Well, I took him up on that challenge. I think the results speak for themselves.”
“If your father hadn’t been murdered, what would you have done?”
“Killed him. But before I did I was going to tell him about all the people I’d killed and why. I wanted him to know what he’d done. For once in his life I wanted him to take responsibility.”
“Last question. Why’d you take something from each of your victims?”
“So I could plant them at Harold Robinson’s, to put the blame on him.” He paused, his brow wrinkled, and he finally said in a low voice, “I guess I’m just like my old man.”
King understood that this was by far the harshest sentence Eddie could have been given, and it was a self-imposed one. That was why he had asked the question.