He'd screamed like a madman mad child when they'd muscled him down, snapped them on. Had only calmed when at his terrified demands, they'd boosted the lights in the room to full.
She imagined, if he got riled enough he could lift the whole shebang and do some damage.
"You're not going in alone." It wasn't a question Roarke asked, it was a statement with the subtle edge of warning.
"I'm not stupid. It's me, Feeney, and two uniforms built like Arena Ball tackles. You sure you want to watch this?" "I wouldn't miss it for worlds." "Patching it through to Peabody's hospital room, so she and McNab can watch. They'll put him away in an institution.
Mental defectives. It's not the cage I'd choose for him, but it'll have to do." "You need him to tell you where the bodies are." She nodded. "He'll tell me." After one last look, she moved out of Observation.
Signaling to Feeney, she unlocked the door, stepped inside ahead of him and the two guards.
"Record on." She recited the data, smiled. "Hello, John." "I don't have to talk to you. Bitch." "No, you don't have to talk to me." She sat down, hooked an arm around the back of her chair. "And that's Lieutenant Bitch to you. You don't want to have a chat, we can send you back to a cage. You're booked, John. All those murder charges. Rape, murder, mutilation. Got you cold, and you're smart enough to know it. Crazy as a shithouse rat, maybe, but you're not stupid." "You shouldn't call him crazy, Dallas." "Oh, yeah, right." She smirked at Feeney. "Probably got a bunch of sob stories to tell. Traumas and emotional scarring.
Shrinks'll eat that up. Me, I don't give that shithouse rat's skinny ass. You're going down, John. Fact is, you are down.
We got evidence flying out our butts on you. You go and leave us the eyes. What's with that? What's with the eyes, John?" "Fuck you." "Rape isn't fucking. Didn't your mother ever tell you that?" He reared back, face contorting. "You shut up about my mother." Got your trigger, she thought. "I don't have to shut up about anything. See, how it works is I'm in charge here. I'm the boss. I'm the woman who busted your balls and locked you up. You messed up my partner, John, so I'm not going to shut up until you squeal like a pig." She slapped her hands on the table, shoved her face into his. "Where are they, John? Where are the rest of the bodies that go with the eyes?" "Fuck you, whore bitch." "Sweet-talking me isn't going to work." "Come on, Dallas." Feeney patted her shoulder. "Ease back a little. Listen, John, you want to help yourself here. You got trauma, I can see that." Eve made a rude noise.
"We saw the shackles, John. We saw how it must've been for you when you were a kid. I bet you've been through a lot, and maybe you didn't know what you were doing. Not really. You couldn't help it. But you need to help yourself now. You need to show us some remorse. You need to tell us where the others are, John. You do that, you volunteer that, and it's going to make a difference with the PA."
"She says you're going to lock me away for killing a bunch of whores. How's telling you where anything is going to help me?"
"Listen, the police officer's going to be okay."
"Her name's Peabody," Eve interrupted. "Detective Delia.
She got one into you, didn't she, John. Gave you back some pain."
She arched her eyebrows when he drew one of his arms toward his chest. "Stings like a bitch, doesn't it, when the stream hits."
"Doesn't bother me." His gaze tracked to the mirror, and his shoulders relaxed again. "Look at me. I can take anything."
"Ran, didn't you? Ran like a rabbit."
"Shut up, you bitch! I did what I had to do."
"Let's calm down." Feeney gestured down with his hands, keeping the tone and rhythm of good cop in play. "The important thing for you, John, is Detective Peabody's all right.
That counts a lot. Maybe we couldn't help you out if she'd taken a downturn, but she's okay. There are things we can do for you, John. You cooperate, you show remorse, you give us the information we need to bring some closure to the families of those other victims, we're going to put in some good words for you."
"I did what I had to do. Why do you lock a man up for doing what he has to do?"
Eve pulled a red cord out of her pocket. "Why did you use this?" When he only stared, she wrapped it around her own throat, watched his eyes go glassy. "You like how it looks on me? Want to get your hands on the ends, John, and pull?"
"Should've killed you first." "Yeah, you got that right." His gaze was locked on the cord, and beads of sweat were popping out on his face, on the dome of his head. "Where's your mother, John?" "Shut up, I said, about my mother!" "She liked to do crafts. We got her account from Total Crafts. But you know what, word is nobody's seen her around, in months. Damn near a year now. You kill her first, John? You take some of her ribbon, like all that red ribbon we found in the house, and wrap it around her neck? You rape your own mother, John? Did you rape and strangle your mother, and take her eyes?" "She was a whore." "What did she do to you, John?" "Deserved what she got." Breathing shallow, he stared at the mirror again. Nodded slowly. "Deserved it. Every time." "What did she do?" There was nothing wrong with his eyes.
She could see that, and she'd checked his medicals. And she thought of the bright lights. Sunshades and bright lights. Eyes in jars.
"It's a little bright in here," she said conversationally.
"Lights, fifty percent." Turn them back up." The sweat was rolling now. "I'm not talking to you in the dark." "You're not saying anything I want to hear. Lights, thirty percent." Turn them on, turn them on! I don't like the dark. Don't leave me in the dark. I didn't mean to see!" His tone had gone high. A boy's voice in panic and plea.
It touched something in her, but she tamped it down. "See what? Tell me, John. Tell me, and I'll turn the lights up again." "Whore, naked in bed. Letting him touch her, touching him. I didn't mean to see."
"What did she do to you?" "Put the cloth over your eyes. Tie it tight. Little prick, got no business spying on me when I'm working. Lock you in again. Lock you in the dark. Maybe I'll poke your eyes out next time, then you won't see what you're not supposed to see." Chains rattled as he struggled in the chair. "I don't want to be in the dark. I'm not weak and puny and stupid." "What happened in the park?" "Just playing, that's all. Just playing, me and Shelley. I just let her touch it. It hurts, it hurts when Mommy hits it with a stick. Burns, burns when she scrubs it with the powder.
Pour acid on it next time and see how you like it. In the dark, can't see, can't get out." He fell against the table, weeping.
"You got strong, didn't you, John? You got strong and paid her back for it." "She shouldn't have said those things to me. She shouldn't laugh at me and call me names. I'm not a freak. I'm not good-for-nothing. I'm a man." "And you showed her you were a man. A man who can rape whores when he wants to. You shut her up." "Shut her right up." He lifted his head, and madness rolled in his eyes even as tears streamed out of them. "How do you like it now? She only sees what I tell her to see now. That's what. I'm in charge now. And when I see her again, I know what to do." "Tell me where she is now, John. Where the rest of her is." "It's dark. Too dark in here." "Tell me so I can turn the lights back up." "Buried. Decent burial, but she kept coming back! It's dark in the ground. Maybe she doesn't like it there. Put her outside, put her in the park. Make her remember! Make her sorry."
"Where did you bury her?" "Little farm. Granny's farm. She liked the farm. Maybe she'll live there one day." "Where's the farm?" "Upstate. Not a farm anymore. Just an old house. Ugly old house, locks on the doors. She'll lock you in there, too.