Gregg Hurwitz - Do No Harm

David looked down, working his cheek between his molars. "And, possibly, more violent," he said.

"We should stake out drugstores in the area in case he tries to break in for more drugs," Yale said. "If he tries to steal more alkali, that might provide an opportunity to catch him."

"There are other trails now, too," David said. "I have the names and birth dates of the study's other subjects. Since the abstract mentioned there was intense bonding between them, it could be a lead. I also have Clyde's file that shows all the addresses he lived at as a child-can you look into those too? We should check out people who worked at Happy Horizons, other kids he overlapped with. Maybe he's in contact with someone. Plus, he mentioned trying to go to a clinic once to get help. In case it's true, maybe we should check that out too."

"Wait a minute." Dalton held up a hand. It was large and weathered, like a baseball mitt. "We need all files and films from that study. We'll follow you home and pick them up." He said it as though expecting David to object.

"Okay," David said. "We can make copies."

Diane seemed to emerge from a separate train of thought. "The fact that Clyde hit you isn't sitting right with me," she said. "It seems so out of character."

"Surprised the hell out of me. So far, he's only attacked women, and even then from something of a distance."

"He attacked two cops in the course of his escape," Yale said.

"He didn't attack them. He injured them trying to escape from them. There was no emotional motive or release there. But me-he wanted to assault me."

"I'll buy that." Yale slid his cheap pen neatly behind his ear. "So then, what enabled him to stray so far and aggressively from his previous pattern of attacks?"

"I think the empty lot and the Pearson Home are comforting to him."

"Why?"

"That house is a place of empowerment to him. It's the place where he was able to inflict fear rather than be victimized by it. Once I spotted him outside Healton's, he may have drawn me into the lot to attack me. Being in the vicinity of the house may have helped him work up the nerve to hit me. I doubt he would've attacked me in public."

"There are more concrete reasons for that," Yale said. "No witnesses. No one to interfere or help you."

"True. But I think my hypothesis is strengthened by the fact that Clyde shows a clear fixation on that house. He took Douglas DaVella's name. He collects items from the house-you saw the photograph and address number by his bed. Plus he still lives within a few blocks of the site. As an adult, he selected that area for a reason. Clearly, it's his comfort zone. He's been clinging to it all these years."

Dalton chewed his cheek, his lips making a sloppy O. "I'd agree. Healton's is two blocks away. And he cashed his checks right over there on Lincoln."

"So by that logic, wouldn't he attack someone in the house?" Yale asked.

"I don't think so," David said. "That doesn't fit into the revenge aspect of his psychopathology. That house never did him wrong, so to speak. The hospital did. To oversimplify, I'd say he draws comfort and empowerment from the house and area around it, and uses that as a springboard to launch his attacks elsewhere."

"And he could be angry that the house was taken away from him," Dalton said. "Maybe he's pissed off that he got removed from his sick-fuck nirvana when he strung up the kid and got shipped off to a youth detention center."

"Again, something he could blame on the experiments and the hospital."

"And so he'll be even more pissed he's been driven from the area again."

"Probably so."

"We'll keep the units in that location on alert," Yale said. "Just in case."

"I doubt he's dumb enough to go back," Peter said.

"It's a base we have to cover. The bulk of our work is proving what we already know. It's tedious, but it helps us sleep at night."

"Our jobs are similar that way," David said. Once the words were out of his mouth, he expected to be rebuked by Yale or Dalton, but was pleasantly surprised.

"You said you believe he's been evolving, becoming more bold and aggressive," Diane said.

"Unusually so," Yale interjected.

"Any way we can figure out that trajectory and intercept it?"

"I think that's our top priority," David said.

"The primary aim of his attacks is to scare people," Yale said. "There's got to be something there, something we can use."

Dalton turned his red, weary eyes to his watch. "Right now, I want to get my hands on those films and files." He turned to the door, prompting David with a tilt of his head.

Peter fiddled with his leg braces. David looked over at Diane, and she tapped two fingers to her forehead in a mock salute.

When David turned back, Yale was standing right beside him. Yale pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and popped it in his mouth, bending it Doublemint-commercial style. He fixed his sharp, indecipherable gaze on David. "We work together now," he said. "On everything."

"All right," David said. "I get it."

Hurwitz, Gregg

Do No Harm (2002)

"You'd better get it," Dalton said. "Because if you fuck up again

… " He pointed at the closed door, behind which Jenkins waited.".. we're gonna sick Bad Cop on you."

Feeling slightly schoolboyish, David called Diane when he got home to say good night.

She said, "You're not stunning."

He hung up the phone and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Clyde. It sruck him that, when talking to Diane, he'd slowly gravitated to the middle of the bed, rather than leaving his wife's side untouched as he usually did.

He should have been exhausted, but he was wired, still riding his adrenaline high. The clock blinked 3:30 a.m. He'd have a little more than three and a half hours to sleep before getting up for his morning shift. He couldn't even count how long it had been since he'd had a respectable night's sleep. He closed his eyes and forced himself to clear his thoughts. He was just drifting off when the phone rang. He fumbled for the receiver, then answered. "Diane?"

"Almost," a voice said. Suddenly, an awful screaming came through the phone, the sounds of someone being tortured. David bolted up in bed, slowly placing the initial voice as Clyde's. He reached for the answering machine on the nightstand and clicked record. The screams continued, followed by a woman's intense pleading.

"Hello?" David's heart was pounding. Nothing engendered panic like exposure to it. "Hello? Who's there? Are you all right?"

The noise stopped instantly, and David heard only labored breathing. He tried to put his thoughts in order. How had Clyde managed to take someone captive? The screaming had cut off abruptly-maybe it had been recorded. Why would Clyde awaken him with a woman's screaming? To scare him. To scare him off.

David's voice sounded weak, and he had to clear his throat to start over. "Clyde. What have you done? Listen to me. What have you done?"

A silence during which David imagined Clyde relishing the fear that had shown in David's voice.

"You said you were gonna help me and you didn't. You're like them, like the others. You've seen what I can do to them." Clyde's voice firmed with pride. "The hospital was shut down because of me. Security guards to protect people from me. They're scared. And you'll be too."

A woman's scream, prolonged and wavering.

The sheets around David were stained with his sweat. David fought to keep the fear from his voice, because he didn't want to give Clyde the satisfaction. He got up and paced circles around the room, the phone pressed to his ear. "Do you have someone with you, Clyde? Is someone there?"

"Yeah." He laughed. "Yeah. Someone's here. I got her. It's your fault. I did this because of you."