Джонатан Келлерман - When the Bough Breaks

“She’s dead. The guy they sent to get the kid and her did it. They buried her in the Meadow.”

I remembered the stretch of field at the north side of La Casa. We’re planning to plant a vegetable garden this summer he’d told me…

“Who is he?”

“Some crazy guy. A gimp – kind of paralyzed on one side. Gus called him Earl.”

It wasn’t the name I expected but the description was right.

“Why’d he do it?”

“Leave as few loose ends as possible.”

“On McCaffrey’s orders?”

He was silent. I exerted pressure on the gun. His thigh quivered.

“Yeah. On his orders. Earl doesn’t operate on his own.”

“Where is this Earl character now?”

More hesitation. Without thinking I flicked the tip of the .38 over his kneecap. His eyes widened with surprise and hurt. Tears ran out of them.

“Oh, God!”

“Don’t get religious. Just talk.”

“He’s gone – dead. Gus had Halstead rip him off. After they buried the woman. He was filling the grave and Halstead hit him with the shovel, pushed him in with her and covered them both with dirt. He and Gus were laughing about it later. Halstead said when he hit Earl on the head it gave off a hollow sound. They used to talk like that, behind the guy’s back – call him the gimp, damaged goods…”

“Mean guy, that Halstead.”

“Yeah. He is.” Kruger’s visage brightened, eager to please. “He’s after you too. You were snooping around. Gus didn’t know how much the kid told you. I’m tipping you off, man, watch your–”

“Thanks, pal, but Halstead’s no threat anymore. To anyone.”

He looked up at me. I answered the unspoken question with a quick nod.

“Jesus,” he said, broken.

I didn’t give him time to reflect.

“Why’d you kill Handler and Gutierrez?”

“I told you, I didn’t. That was Halstead and Earl. Gus told ’em to make it look like a sex thing. Halstead told me later Earl was a natural for the job – carved ’em up like he enjoyed it. Really went to town on the teacher. Halstead held her and Earl used the knife.”

Two men, maybe three, Melody had said.

“You were there, too, Tim.”

“No. Yeah. I– I drove them there. With the headlights out. It was a dark night, no moon, no stars. I circled the parking lot, then figured I might get noticed, so I drove around in the Palisades and came back. They still weren’t through – I remember wondering what was taking them so long. I left again, drove around some more, came back and they were just coming out. They wore black, like demons. I could see the blood, even against the black. They smelled of blood. It was all them, dark, like the clothing, but a different texture – you know, shiny. Wet.”

Dark men. Two, maybe three.

He stopped.

“That’s not the end of the story, Tim.”

“That’s it. They undressed in the car, stuffed the knife in a duffel bag. We burned it in one of the canyons – the clothes, bag, everything. Dumped whatever was left off the Malibu pier.” He paused again, out of breath. “I didn’t kill anybody.”

“Did they say anything in the car?”

“Halstead was stone silent. It bothered me, how freaked-out he looked, because he’s a mean one – that story about getting a knife pulled on him by a kid is bullshit. He was kicked out of Manual Arts for beating up a couple of students pretty badly. Before that he was booted out of the marines. He loved violence. But whatever happened in that apartment got to him – he was silent, man.”

“How about Earl?”

“Earl was – different – like he dug it, you know? He was licking his lips and rocking back and forth like an autistic kid. Jabbering, saying “Sonofabitch’ over and over. Weird. Crazy. Finally Halstead told him to shut the fuck up and he yelled something back in Spanish. The guy spoke a lot in Spanish. Halstead yelled back and I thought the two of them were going to tear each other up right there. It was like driving around with two caged beasts. I calmed them down, used Gus’s name – that always worked for Earl. I couldn’t wait to get away from them that night. Prototypical psychopaths, both of them.”

“Save the scholarly stuff and tell me how you killed Bruno.”

He looked at me with renewed fear.

“You know everything, don’t you.”

“What I don’t you’re going to fill in.” I waved the gun in the air. “Bruno.”

“We – they did that the night after doing the doctor and the teacher. Halstead didn’t want Earl along but Gus insisted. Said two men on the job was better. I had the feeling he played them off against each other. I wasn’t there at all. Halstead drove and did the killing. He used a baseball bat from the athletic supplies bin. I was there when he came back and told Gus about it. They found the salesman eating dinner, beat him to death right there at the table. Earl ate the rest of the meal.”

Two murders pinned on two dead men. Very neat. It stunk and I told him so.

“That’s the way it was. I’m not saying I’m totally innocent. I knew what they were going to do when I drove them to the shrink’s place. I gave them the key. But I didn’t do any of the killing.”

“How’d you get the key?”

“Cousin Will gave it to me. I don’t know where he got it.”

“All right. We’ve talked about who. Now tell me why all the butchery.”

“I assumed you knew–”

“Don’t assume a goddam thing.”

“Okay, okay. It’s the Brigade. It’s a cover for child molesters. The shrink and the girl found out and they were blackmailing him. Stupid of them to think they could get away with it.”

I remembered the pictures Milo’d shown me that first day. They’d paid far too high a price for their stupidity.

I chased the bloody images from my mind and returned to Kruger.

“Are all the Gentlemen perverts?”

“No. Only a quarter. The rest are straight-arrows. It makes it easier to conceal, sneaking the perverts in among them.”

“And the kids never talk?”

“Not until – we pick the ones that the pervs take home with care, mostly those who can’t talk back. Retarded, or they don’t know English, severely c.p. Gus likes orphans because they don’t have family ties, no one looks out for them.”

“Was Rodney one of the chosen ones?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did his fear of the doctor have something to do with that?”

“Yeah. One of the weirdos got a little rough with him. A surgeon. Gus warns them to go easy. He doesn’t want the kids actually hurt – spoiled merchandise isn’t worth as much. But it doesn’t always work out. Those guys aren’t normal, you know.”

“I know.” Anger and disgust made it hard to see straight. Kicking his head in would have been prim ally satisfying, but it was a pleasure I was going to have to deny myself…

“I’m not one of them,” he was insisting, sounding almost as if he’d convinced himself. “I think it’s disgusting, actually.”

I bent down and grabbed him by the throat.

“You went along with it, asshole!”

His face purpled, the butterscotch eyes bulging. I let go of his head. It dropped to the floor. He landed on his nose and it started to bleed. He writhed in confinement.

“Don’t say it. You were just following orders.”

“You don’t understand!” he sobbed. Real tears mixed with the mustache of blood on his upper lip creating a momentary illusion of harelip. But for his degree in drama I might have been impressed. “Gus took me in when the rest of them – my so-called friends and family, everyone – blackballed me for the Saxon thing. You can think what you want but that wasn’t murder. It was an accident. Saxon was no innocent victim. He wanted to kill me – that’s the truth.”