"Thanks a bunch."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong with it, Waldo, that's not the point."
"What d'you mean?"
He heard a sigh. "If you don't know then I'm not going to tell you."
"Well, I don't know."
"That's a pity," she said.
He couldn't think of anything to say.
"So long, Waldo."
"Fran?" He put the phone back in the cradle, laid his head on the skimpy pillow and closed his eyes. She must be really mad at him to do that, he thought. In all their years of marriage she'd never hung up on him. He toyed with the idea of calling her back, knew it would be useless. She was too mad. He'd wait until she cooled off some. And then something she'd said made him open his eyes as if he'd been stuck with a needle.
On the Fork everybody knows where everybody is every minute. Sure they did. So why didn't anybody know where the murderer was at any given time, like right before he struck? Because maybe he was a fixture and people were used to seeing him any old place at any old time. It had to be somebody who wouldn't stick out if a person happened to see him early in the morning near Carroll's Funeral Home. Or in Bay view in the middle of a Sunday. Or at the band concert. Just there. Just there, like he always is. And so damn respectable that nobody'd think twice about him.
Hallock grabbed the phone. Maguire's number was still busy. He slammed it down. He hadn't wanted to say anything to Maguire until he was sure. But now, he thought, he should be warned. It was important he know that Mark Griffing might kill him.
– -
Colin and Annie sat at the kitchen table. She was wearing his blue terrycloth robe. He was in a clean set of sweats. They were eating scrambled eggs and bacon Colin had made for them. Neither one had eaten dinner.
"Funny," she said. "I feel like I'm eating breakfast, but it's dark out."
"Nice change," he said. "You look great in that color."
She smiled.
He said, "Hey, you never finished telling me about living here when you were a kid."
"There's not much to tell. We were only here two months. We came in the middle of April and we left by mid-June."
"How come?"
"The club Dad was playing at burned down." She shook her head, looked pained. "It was awful. People panicked. Most everybody got out okay. But some were burned and twelve people died."
"Jesus. How long ago was this?"
"Let's see… twenty-five years ago. Right. Twenty-five years ago this month. Two of the people who died were the parents of Jamie Perkins, my first boyfriend. They were trampled to death. I wonder what ever happened to Jamie? He was an only child. There weren't any other relatives. I begged my parents to adopt him but of course they couldn't. It was hard enough keeping the three of us in shoes with Dad's career always so iffy. I mean, when we left Seaville and moved back to Brooklyn Heights, we had no idea where the next dollar was going to come from."
"Where did it come from?"
"Oh, Dad got a job right away. He was a damn good trumpet player. Still is. I don't worry about him. But my mother's a different story."
"You said she suffers from depression."
"Yes. And sometimes she takes too many pills."
"I'm sorry."
"Me, too." She looked at her food, pushed some egg around the plate, finally put down the fork.
Colin took her hand. She smiled. He leaned toward her and she met him halfway. They kissed gently.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
"No. Not now."
"Okay." He looked at the Yale wall clock. "It's after midnight, you know."
"Do I look like I'm going to turn into a pumpkin or something?"
"Or something," he said. "Where'd you park your car?"
She looked at him quizzically. "In front."
"You're kidding?"
"No."
"Why'd you do that? You told me-"
"I know what I told you."
"Isn't it true?"
"Yes. I think it is."
"Well, then, hell, you've got to go home."
"I want to spend the night with you, Colin."
"Listen, I want to spend the night with you more than anything, but I don't think it's a smart move. I mean, people think I'm a murderer. It's riskier than ever for you to stay here."
"Why don't you come home with me? In my car."
He shook his head, looked embarrassed.
She said, "Colin, I know you have trouble riding with someone but maybe you could try it-just this once."
There was no way he would let her see him with a panic attack. "You don't understand."
"Then tell me."
"I… I can't."
"You can." She put her hand on his leg, squeezed. "You can try."
"Okay, I'll try."
Slowly he told her, describing what the attacks were like, and ended with his head in his hands.
"It's all right, Colin. It's really all right. I'll stay here."
"No," he said. "No, you can't. I won't let you. It's bad enough that you're here this late. Come on." He took her by the hand. "Let's get dressed."
"Colin, wait. What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to walk. It's not that far to your place."
"Are you sure you want to?"
He nodded.
"What about the morning?"
"I'll leave early and walk back."
After they were dressed Annie left. He watched her drive away. There didn't seem to be anyone on the street, but he couldn't be sure. He put out the porch light, closed the door, and locked it.
Inside he doused the lights one by one and made his way upstairs. In his bedroom he turned on a light. The blinds were drawn, but there was enough spill for anyone watching to see it. He waited three minutes, then turned off the light and went back down the stairs, hunkering down as he passed the living room windows. In the kitchen he carefully opened the back door and went out.
Keeping close to the hedges he made his way to the back of his yard, found an opening in the hedge, and crossed through to his neighbor's yard. Cautiously, he crept across the lawn and came out on Sixth Street. All was still. Not a light on. He began to jog, a slow, even rhythm, down the road and out onto Main Street. If anyone was watching his house they wouldn't know he'd left. At least, he hoped they wouldn't.
LOOKING BACK-75 YEARS AGO
Ground was broken Tuesday morning for the new Seaville Gazette building on Center Street, directly opposite the Auditorium and the Masonic Temple. The stone wall has been taken down in front of where the building will stand, and the land is being cut down to street level. The building will be of stucco with a two-story front and offices on the second floor. Everything will be up to date: plate glass front, electric lights, steam heat, hardwood floors, with a 50-foot basement.
THIRTY
Why did everyone think they could fool him? Play games. Tricks. He was the master, after all. Trickster. Trick or treat? I'll have a little trick, sir. You are a little trick, dearie!
Such a peaceful weekend we've had. This town's a loser and I'm here to win. Peace on earth, good will toward men. I know lots of good will. Good Will Oursler, Good Will Shakespeare, good Will James, good Will Bendix, on and on and on.
So four down, five to go. Got to make the next one a real goody. Got to top the last one. Hard to do. Can't let down on the perfection aspect, though. High-quality killings. Keep my standards high. Quality is important in everything we do. Why should it be any different in killing? I'm working on my moves… I'm making front page news. And then there's detail. Every last detail must be considered. I am a stickler for detail. But that must be evident. Surely if they thought about it they'd consider the detail, consider the inspiration behind the detail. But no one thinks anymore. No one knows how to put two and two together because they are too busy dividing four into two. But, oh, the detail. Detail, one, two, three, hup!
Look over the list. Three females gone. One male. It is true that the females are easier. You have to really use an element of surprise with men, have an edge. Well, surprise figures in all of them but the females are a pushover. The kid, too. Didn't like that one. Thought it would be easy. Almost couldn't do it. Getting soft? Easy does it. Cool. Easy. Take it easy. Kiss the sky.