"Once," said DeAnne.
"Me too," said Step.
"It's going on, all the time. There aren't enough policemen in the world to track down all of that. And most of the time it's just what you thought-somebody you know who's angry at you. Maybe even your best friend, only they can't bring themselves to confront you, so they send you a record and it gets it off their chest and nothing more ever happens."
"That's a relief," said DeAnne.
"Well, you should be relieved. But you should also find out who's at the door before you open it, and make sure you know who the next package is from before you open it. Because one time in ten thousand, the guy's not kidding."
"With one hand he giveth comfort," said Step, "and with the other he taketh it away."
"What can I say?" said Douglas. "I'm dying for a cigarette, and the thing I came out here for was to find out why you had all those names, and you aren't letting me meet your son."
"We thought you'd tell us why our son knew those names," said Step.
"Well, I'm not gonna subpoena him. But I'll tell you folks, every little boy in this town is in danger right now. This killer may lay low for a while, but he'll be back soon enough, and whatever he's doing, he's going to be damned hard to catch. How many more is he going to kill before he finally slips up? I hope not yours, but he'll kill somebody's."
"But Stevie couldn't possibly know-" Step began.
"What are you hoping to find out from him?" asked DeAnne.
"Not the name of the killer, so rest your minds about that," said Douglas. "Nothing concrete at all. I just want to get a feel for who he is. For the kind of person he is."
"He's a good kid," said Step.
"I'm sure he is," said Douglas.
Step laughed. "And I bet you hear that from the parents of drug pushers and rapists and embezzlers all the time."
"Either that or 'I always told him he'd end up in jail.' "
Step looked at DeAnne. DeAnne looked at him. "We've come this far," she said.
"We let him talk to that miserable shrink," said Step. "For two months. What can Mr. Douglas do worse than Dr. Weeks?"
"I'll get him," said DeAnne.
While she was gone, Step had to ask. "What do they get out of this? Guys like ... the one you're looking for?"
Douglas raised an eyebrow. "Morbid curiosity?"
"Yes," said Step. "But I'm also a historian. I study human nature, and somehow this guy is human, right?"
"No," said Douglas. "Guys like that start out human, but there's an empty place inside them, a hungry place, and it starts sucking the humanity, the decency, the love, the goodness right out of them. And by the time the y get to where this guy is, there's nothing left but that hole. And so the guy spends all his effort trying to fill that hole, to find something to satisfy that thirst, that hunger, that nothingness in him, only he never can. He just tries over and over and over again, and it's never enough. If the guy has any decency left, some scrap of humanity somewhere in the shadows, then he'll leave clues for us, he'll do like Son of Sam and taunt the cops, he'll cry for help. Free me from this hunger that's eating me alive. But the worst ones, there's nothing left. This guy, there's nothing."
"Well if it's all gone, his humanity, then wouldn't people around him know it?"
"They may know it. He may be a complete son-of-a-bitch who sics his dogs on anybody who comes near his property. But then he might also be the nicest, most normal- looking guy. You just never know. It could be your dentist. The bag boy at the grocery. A minister. He fools everybody."
"How?" asked Step. "Why can't people see through his lies?"
"Cause he doesn't lie," said Douglas. "It's like Bundy again. He really believes that he's innocent. Because it isn't him doing it, it's this evil thing inside him. He knows it's there, but it's not him, see, and so he doesn't even feel guilty, because he knows that he'd never do anything like those horrible things."
"So it could be anybody, and he wouldn't even know it himself?"
"Oh, he knows it," said Douglas. "Because all the time that he's telling himself that he would never do this bad stuff, in fact he's working as hard as he can to protect that other part of him. To keep anybody from catching him. No, he knows. If he didn't know what he was doing, if he was really crazy, we'd have found the bodies."
They heard DeAnne talking as she came down the hall. "It's nothing all that important," she was saying.
"He just wants to talk to you."
Stevie came into the room, looking sleepy. So he finally had taken a nap, Step thought. Douglas didn't stand up, just stuck out his hand. Because he was sitting down, his head was at about the same level as Stevie's.
"I'm Doug Douglas, son," he said. "Would you shake my hand?"
Stevie came forward and took Douglas's big hand and shook it, solemnly.
"I don't know how much your mama told you about me, but I'm a policeman."
Stevie glanced down at Douglas's suit.
"That's right, I don't wear a uniform. I'm a detective, so if your daddy ever drives faster than the speed limit, I'll let him go right by because traffic isn't my job."
Douglas paused, apparently waiting for Stevie to ask him what his job was. Of course Stevie didn't say a thing.
"The thing is," said Douglas, "there's a bad person in Steuben these days who's been kidnapping kids. Do you know what kid napping is?"
Stevie nodded.
"Well, you're going to be hearing a lot about this guy at school tomorrow. What grade will you be in?"
"Third."
"Yeah, you'll hear a lot. Your teachers will tell you, cops like me will come to school and tell you-stay away from strangers. If somebody grabs you, scream your lungs out."
"We already taught him all this," said DeAnne. "He already follows these rules."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said Douglas. "Do you always follow those rules?"
Stevie nodded.
"And what if somebody wanted you to go off alone with him, and you said no, cause it was against the rules, but then he said, All right, but don't you ever tell anybody that I asked you. What would you do?"
"Tell Mom and Dad," said Stevie.
"What if he said that if you told, he'd hurt you."
"I'd still tell."
"This boy's been well trained," said Douglas. "Stevie, I hear you have some good friends."
DeAnne stiffened, and Step said, "Mr. Douglas."
"Now, now, Stevie doesn't mind talking about his friends. Do you, Stevie?"
Stevie shrugged. A little one-shoulder shrug.
"Well, I'm not going to ask anything hard. I just want you to tell me one thing. Who was it who told you their names?"
"Jack," said Stevie.
"Jack," said Douglas. "Now,. is he one of those friends, or are you thinking about some other Jack?"
"He's one of them," said Stevie.
"So he told you his own name," said Douglas.
Stevie nodded.
"And everybody else's name."
Stevie nodded. "Except Sandy," he said.
"And who told you Sandy's name?"
"Sandy," said Stevie.
"Stevie, I bet you love your mom and dad, don't you?"
Stevie nodded, immediately, deeply.
"Well, I just want you to know that I've been talking to them for the last while and they really love you, too.
More than you even know, and I'll bet you already think they love you a lot, don't you."
Again he nodded.
"They love you so much that they want you to be safe, all the time. Now can you do that for them? Can you keep yourself safe? Follow all those rules?"
Stevie nodded.
"Well that's it then," said Douglas. "I'm glad to meet you, Stevie. And if anybody ever gives you any trouble, you just tell them that Doug Douglas is your friend, and they better be nice to you, all right?"