"What was?" asked Karen.
"To keep an eye on Agent Becker."
"You were assigned to drive him," Karen said.
"I was also told to assist, him with anything he needed," Pegeen said.
"Did you feel he needed assistance in the shower?" Hatcher asked. He's enjoying it, Pegeen realized. He likes seeing me squirm. "Not specifically the shower, sir, no."
"I told her to come in," Becker said. "Leave her alone-she doesn't have anything to do with it."
"Why did you think he needed assistance?" Gold said.
His tone was genuinely sympathetic, and Pegeen liked him immediately.
"Was he upset?"
"Yeah, I was upset," Becker said. "She did the right thing, I was upset and she wanted to make sure I was all right."
"I understand," said Hatcher.
"You don't have a clue," said Becker.
"What were you upset about?" Karen asked.
"I was upset that I was working for Hatcher," Becker said. "I'd sworn to myself, never again, but there I was, sitting in prison with a sick little puppy licking my hand, and I felt so dirty I couldn't stand it, so I took a shower.
Now, if you don't leave Agent Haddad out of this, Hatcher, I won't tell you what you want to know. Do you understand that?"
Hatcher turned to Pegeen, smiling, if possible, even more insincerely than before.
"I think that will be all for now. And thank you so much."
Pegeen felt all of their eyes on her back as she walked out of the room, but she thought she could distinguish those of Karen Crist. They were the ones with the daggers on the end.
Gold cleared his throat, but it was Hatcher who spoke.
"So, John. You have your way; you have what you asked for. I wonder now if you could tell us what it is you think I want to know."
"You heard the tapes, what do you think?"
"I wasn't there, John. I didn't see the man."
"Why not go there? He'll be happy to see you. I don't think he gets nearly enough visitors."
"But I don't need to go, John. You've already gone, you're the expert in this particular area, so you tell me.
Are we on to the killer of those girls in the coal mine?
Can this man Swann help us find him?"
"If you give him what he wants, this man Swann will help you find Jimmy Hoffa."
"You recommend that we work with him, then?"
"I recommend that you work with him. I don't want anything else to do with him."
"You seem to have had an-uncomfortable@xperience. I regret that. I had hoped you might like to come back to work full time."
Before Becker could retort, Karen interrupted. "We just want you to assess Swann as a source, John. It's important."
"Why?"
In the silence, Karen and Hatcher exchanged glances.
Gold moved uncomfortably in his chair.
"Well, naturally, some of us don't share your view of the importance of murder that you expressed to Mr. Swann. What was it? Everyone is killing everyone else, so what do a few more matter? That's a paraphrase, of course. A very curious attitude for a law officer, John, although I know you will hasten to tell me that you are no longer an officer. Nonetheless, this man Cooper seems to have murdered a good many people and may be about to do many more, and I for one would like to stop him."
"Cooper is the cellmate?"
"Darnell Cooper," Karen said. "He did five years of hard time for assault with intent, never requested parole, wouldn't have got it if he had, got out three weeks ago.
Never showed up to meet with the parole officer."
"Gone?"
"Without a trace so far. But we haven't been looking very long."
"Just since my meeting with Swann, or did you have a head start?"
"Just since your meeting."
Becker nodded. "Well, good luck to you."
"Thank you, John," said Hatcher. "You've been most cooperative, as always-in your own way. I have matters to tend to, so I'll leave you now, but I'm sure you'll have things to discuss with Dr. Gold and Assistant Deputy Crist… Actually, Deputy Crist, if you could accompany me for just a moment. You have more access to Agent Becker than the rest of us, and I expect there are one or two things you'll want to clear up with him, but if you'll just come with me now… So nice to see you again, John."
Becker leaned over in his chair and studied the floor after Hatcher and Karen had gone.
"What is it?" Gold asked.
"I'm looking to see if he leaves an actual slime trail."
"He's my superior, John. Karen's too, which is more to the point. What do you accomplish by treating him that way?"
"It gets some of the venom out. Isn't that what you shrinks like us to do? Ventilate the venom?"
"It makes Karen's job a good deal harder. If you won't behave when she's in the room-"
"When will I behave? Is that the rest of that sentence?
Karen's a big girl, Gold. She's far better at the politics of all this than you or me. And can you imagine — what would happen if I were nice and docile and, God help me, polite to Hatcher if she were around? Do you know what that would do for her? It would make Hatcher think she was my keeper. He'd have her there every time anybody talked to me, he'd have her supervising my every move. And when I did rebel, and we both know I would before long, it would look like her failure. She's a lot better off if I make it clear to Hatcher that she can't control me either."
"It's an interesting approach. You maintain your freedom, Karen maintains hers. Does Karen see it that way, too?"
"Why are you here, Gold?"
"I was told to come, John. By Hatcher directly."
"Before or after you listened to the tapes?"
"After."
"Why? What's so important about this case?"
"You know they don't tell me-I'm just a shrink. I don't deal with casework. I'm just here for you because of our relationship."
"What does that mean?"
"In case you needed to talk to me. You did sound rather upset on the tape."
"So Hatcher hurried you to Nashville to check on my state of mind? Just out of the goodness of his heart?"
"I don't know about the goodness of his heart. You're very valuable to him."
"Do you want to talk, John? About the interview?"
"Not particularly."
"But then you never particularly want to talk to me, do you?"
Becker laughed. "You've noticed?"
"You've dropped a hint here and there… Swann got to you some way, didn't he?"
"The place got to me. The situation. Him, too, maybe.
I felt-I felt like I couldn't get away."
Gold nodded. "I don't know what it's like. I've never had to go into a prison."
"Keep it that way."
"Yes, please God… What sort of a man is he?"
"Small."
"You know what I mean."
"But you don't. Listen, Gold, don't ask me to appraise anybody in prison. They play a role the whole time they're there, all of them, every single one. They don't dare to let their guard down or let the mask slip for a second. One wrong word, one sideways glance, and someone will see it, because believe me, everyone is watching. Everywhere.
There's nothing but eyes, all around you. You know how vultures work?
They don't come down to see a healthy animal walking along-they don't waste their energy. If you're crossing a desert, it doesn't matter if you're actually dying-if you can act like a healthy human, they won't come near you. But if you limp or stumble or wilt, they'll see it from miles away. The important thing in prison is to be what they expect you to be. You'll find your role in the first week, and you'd better play it to the hilt or you're a goner. So don't expect to get a true picture of any con. He's playing a part."
Gold was silent for a moment. Not for the first time he wondered about his wisdom in electing to work with men with whom he had little affinity, who labored under dangers with which he was unfamiliar. Every one of them knew more about peril and fear and overcoming anxiety than he would ever know, no matter how long he listened to them. And Becker, of course, for all the time they had spent together, knew demons and devils and shades of hell that Gold was grateful he had never even dreamed of. And yet, even though they seemed to have nothing in common, Gold felt an affection for Becker that transcended the doctor/patient relationship. He thought Becker liked him, too.