"But that's ridiculous! No one would believe that Connor would kill Billy Vega. He had no reason to—"
"Georg left no trace of himself at Billy's house," Novak said smugly. "But the forensics team have found the hairs from McCloud's comb. The bloody cane is in McCloud's basement. A clear sign that he wanted to be stopped. A subconscious cry for help, if you will. We mounted McCloud's camera in your wall, we used tapes that were covered with his fingerprints. The camera was reported stolen months ago, so it will be obvious that he has been stalking you for some time. I'm sure the police will enjoy the spicy episodes from your affair. Maybe they will even turn up on the Internet. Like father, like daughter."
"Oh, God," she whispered.
"It was about time something happened in that wretched apartment of yours," he said. "The people who monitored you almost expired from boredom. Georg, turn on the video monitor, if you please."
She hadn't even noticed the wide-screen flat monitor mounted on the wall. The image that appeared on it made her knees turn to water.
Connor was tied spread-eagled on the bed, blindfolded.
"He will wake up shortly." Novak's tone was gleeful. "Then the real entertainment begins. He will watch while Georg performs the dreadful acts for which he will bear the blame. Then he will apparently come to his senses, realize what he has done, and commit suicide with his own gun, in an agony of guilt and horror."
She stared into the monitor. Connor looked so still and vulnerable. "It will never work," she said desperately. "Forensics—"
"No, I promise, I have thought of everything. Is he awake, Tamara?"
She peered into the monitor. "Could be. Hard to say."
"Tamara will see to it that the bodily fluids upon your ravaged body are the genetically correct ones. Tamara could extract bodily fluids from a stone statue, couldn't you, my seductive beauty?"
Tamara gave him a wide, empty smile. "Oh, yes, boss."
Novak clapped his hands together. For the first time, she noticed the prosthetic fingers. He followed her gaze and held them up, waggling them playfully. "You never checked, Erin. You were so convinced that the world behaves like you do. Now we shall watch Tamara and McCloud on the video monitor. Would you enjoy that?" He gave her an encouraging smile, as if offering a special treat to a child.
"No," Erin said.
"What a poor sport," he chided. "Making Riggs women watch their men with other women is something of a hobby of mine."
"Mom's TV" she whispered. "It was you."
"Oh, yes. I was sorry when McCloud put a stop to it. He spoiled my plans for Cindy, too. I had planned for your mother to commit suicide, you see, and for Cindy to begin the long slide into addiction. Those Riggs women just cannot choose good men. But no matter. Your death will finish them off nicely. Tamara, it's time. See to it," he ordered.
Tamara left the room. There was a heavy silence. Everyone was looking at her, as if waiting for something.
"It won't work," she said flatly. "Connor is a noble, honorable person. Too many people know this. But you couldn't be expected to understand that. You're just a squirming thing that feeds on death."
Georg pulled a pair of thick rubber gloves out of a box on the table, and put them on. He glanced at Novak. Novak nodded.
Georg seized her by the hair and struck her in the face.
Erin spun around, crashed against the wall, and slid down to the floor. There was blood in her mouth. No one had ever hit her in her entire life. Her mind reeled with pain and shock, fought to orient itself.
"Georg must cover himself with plastic, of course, before he touches you," Novak said, as if nothing had happened. He took a step closer, and chuckled as she shrank away. "Oh, I have no intention of hurting you," he assured her. "I will only watch this time. Nothing must threaten my new identity. Only Connor's blood and hair and semen will be found upon your ravaged body. His skin, beneath your fingernails."
"No one would believe that Connor could ever do such a thing. No one who knows him." Her voice shook with furious conviction.
"No? Picture it. He will be found dead, his pistol in his mouth, not far from your body. Half naked, scratched to ribbons. Once the sex tapes are found, the case will be closed, my dear. Everyone already thinks he has lost his grip. Everyone. Even you thought so, remember?"
She pushed away the guilt and shame his words provoked, and struggled up onto her knees. "They will come looking for you." She threw the words at him. "My mother knew that I was coming—"
"But you never made it, Erin. I called your mother right before I buzzed you." Tonia's voice took on a taunting, singsong quality. "Mrs. Riggs, is Erin with you, by any chance? I had an appointment with her to go to Mueller's, but she's not home! How odd! It's so unlike her!"
Erin stared at her, stunned. "You are so incredibly cruel."
"Yes. And now that I am dead, no one will bottler me," Novak said smugly. "I should have arranged my own death years ago, but I was too attached to my raffish identity. Ego, you know. Gets you every time."
"How did you turn yourself into Mueller?" Erin demanded.
"Tempting my ego? It's difficult not to boast I stole Claude's life fourteen years ago, which is not so great a crime as you might think, since he wasn't really living it anyway. I needed his live DNA to exchange for my own in the databanks, so I kept him in a drug induced coma. One last stint with the plastic surgeons and I can show myself to the world without a care. Perhaps I will give that donation to the Huppert after all, on the condition that they name the new wing after you. In memoriam. Wouldn't that be touching?"
"You are a demon," she said.
He looked hurt. "Not at all. I have a very tender heart. I used to visit Claude from time to time, back when my life was less complicated. I would hold his hand, tell him of my various doings. They say comatose people understand on some deep level. But you know that already."
She struggled up into a sitting position. "You've been watching me ever since Connor was in the clinic. All this time."
"Your devotion gave me the idea," Novak said. "McCloud gave me another when he brutalized Georg. The two of you were destined to destroy each other. Your mother—pah, too easy. Cindy, too. Like your father. But you, Erin. You are the key to that whole family. All that moral fiber and self-control. All that rigorous effort."
She had slipped into a state of surreal calm. "So this is to punish Dad, for failing you, and the McClouds for catching you? That's all?
"Ah, yes, the McCloud brothers. Connor's death and disgrace will set them on the road to ruin, and I will pick them off at my leisure. There are Seth Mackey and his bride to think of, too, but no hurry. Everyone who has dared to affront me will be punished. And not a trace will lead back to me, because I no longer exist. I am transfigured."
"So you have nothing against me personally," she persisted.
"No," he said. "You couldn't cross me. It's not in your nature."
"My nature is changing." Erin struggled up onto wobbling legs, supporting herself against the wall. "I've loosened up quite a bit. I've been leaving my bed unmade, the dishes unwashed. Losing my temper. Using swear words. My tolerance for chaos has risen sharply lately."
Novak laughed at her. "Bravado in the face of doom. It almost moves me to pity." His eyes flicked to Georg. "Almost."
Erin's mind was strangely lucid. Novak was the embodiment of her nightmares, the goad behind her ceaseless efforts to control her world and keep chaos at bay. And all her struggles had led her straight here, into this monster's grasp.
The fear of chaos had controlled her all her life. She may have just a few minutes left to live, but she would be free in them. She would create her own reality for as long as she had the power. She drew herself up as tall as possible. "Your plan is inherently flawed," she said.