Chapter 79
WHAT I ASKED JOANNA WADE was whether Nicholas Jenks was capable of murder. I couldn't tell her the reason, but it didn't matter. Joanna was a quick study. I saw the shock in her eyes. After she calmed, I watched her go through a thoughtful evaluation. Finally, she looked at me and asked again, "Have you ever read his books, Inspector?" "One, Fatal Charm. Tough book." "He lives with those characters, Inspector. Sometimes I think he forgets it's only what he does for a living." I saw the self-judging look in her eyes. I leaned in closer. "I don't mean to hurt you. But I have to know." "Could he kill? Is he capable of murder? I know he's capable of completely debasing another human being. That's murder, isn't it? He's what they call a sexual sadist. His father used to beat his mother in their bedroom closet as an aphrodisiac. He preys on weakness. Yes, the famous Nicholas Jenks humiliated me… But let me tell you the worst thing, the very worst. He left me, Inspector. I didn't leave him." Joanna leaned back and gave me sort of a compassionate smile. "I've seen Chessy around a few times. Luncheons, benefits. We've even spoken a bit. He hasn't changed. She knows I know exactly what she's going through. But it's something we can't share. I see the fear. I know how it is. When she looks in the mirror, she no longer recognizes the person she once was." My blood was at the boiling point. Through the tough veneer, I saw a glimpse of the woman Joanna Wade had been- young, needing, confused. I reached out and touched her hand. I had my answer. I closed my pad, ready to get up, when Joanna surprised me. "I thought it was him. Not really. But I thought of Nick when I heard about those terrible crimes. I thought about his book, and I said, It could be him." I stopped Joanna. "What book?" "That first thing he wrote. Always a Bridesmaid. I figured that's what brought you here, what connected him to the murders." I stared at her, confused. "Just what are you talking about?" "I barely remember it. He wrote it before we met. I was lucky enough to come in for the second unpublished one, which, I'm told, he recently sold for two million. But this book I'd totally forgotten about until recently. It was about a student in law school who discovers his wife with his best friend. He kills them both. Ends up going on a rampage." "What kind of rampage?" I asked. What she said next made me gasp. "He goes around killing brides and grooms. A lot like what happened."
Chapter 80
THAT WAS THE PIECE of the puzzle I needed. If Jenks had premeditated these crimes, mapped them out in some early book, it would constitute unimpeachable knowledge. No longer circumstantial. With everything else we had, I could definitely bring him in. "Where can I find this book?" I asked. "It wasn't very good," Joanna Wade replied. "Never published." Every nerve in my body was standing on end. "Do you have a copy?" "Trust me, if I did I would have burned it years ago. Nick had this agent in town, Greg Marks. He dumped him when he got successful. If anyone would have it, it might be him." I called Greg Marks from the car. I was really humming now. I loved this. The operator connected me and after four rings, an an277 swering tape came on: "You've reached Greg Marks Associates" I cringed with disappointment. Damn, damn, damn. Reluctantly, I left him my pager number. "A matter of great urgency," I said. I was about to tell him why I was calling when a voice cut in on the tape" This is Greg Marks." I explained I needed to see him immediately. His office wasn't too far; I could be there in ten minutes. "I have an engagement at One Market at six-fifteen," the agent replied curtly. "But if you can get here…" "You just stay right there," I told him. "This is police business and it's important. If you leave, I'll arrest you!" Greg Marks worked out of his brownstone, a third-floor loft in Pacific Heights with a partial view of the bridge. He answered the door with a suspicious reserve. He was short, balding, smartly dressed, a jacquard shirt buttoned to the top. "I'm afraid you haven't picked a popular topic with me, Inspector. Nicholas Jenks hasn't been a client for over six years. He left me the day Crossed Wire hit the Chronicle's bestseller list." "Are you still in touch?" I wanted to make sure anything I asked him wouldn't get back to Jenks. "Why? To remind him how I baby-sat him through the years when he could barely use a noun with an adjective, how I took his obsessed midnight calls, stroked that gigantic ego?" "I'm here about something Jenks wrote early on," I interrupted. "Before any big deals. I spoke to his ex-wife." "Joanna?" Marks exclaimed with surprise. "She said he had written a book that never got published. She thought it was called Always a Bridesmaid." The agent nodded. "It was an uneven first effort. No real narrative power. Truth is, I never even sent it out." "Do you have a copy?" "Packed it back to him as soon as I turned the final page. I would think Jenks must, though. He thought the book was a suspense masterpiece." "I was hoping I wouldn't have to go through him," I said, without conveying the basis of my interest. I leaned forward. "How do I get my hands on a copy of that novel, without going to Jenks directly?" "Joanna didn't save it?" Marks rubbed a finger across his temple. "Jenks was always paranoid about people ripping him off. Maybe he had it copyrighted. Why don't you check into that?" I needed to run this by someone. I needed to run it by the girls. "Do you want to hear something really scary about Jenks?" the agent said then. "Please, go ahead." "Here's the idea for a book he always wanted to write. It's about a novelist who is obsessed- the kind of thing Stephen King does so well. In order to write a better book, a great book, he actually murders people to see what it's like. Welcome to the horrible mind of Nicholas Jenks."