Jonathan Kellerman - The Web

"The fool. " He looked ready to spit. "That book of his. No one's ever seen it and he won't be pinned down on details. Why else would Hoffman invite him to that abysmal dinner? Nicholas does nothing without a reason."

"Have you found any connection between Hoffman and Stasher-Layman?"

"Not yet, but we mustn't get distracted. We must focus on Ben."

"When Ben caught Creedman snooping, what was Creedman after?"

"I have no idea. There's nothing to hide."

"What about the AnneMarie Valdos file? And not necessarily for nefarious reasons. Creedman's the one who told me about the murder. Said you did the autopsy, had the details. He sounded regretful. Maybe he smelled a good story."

"No. As much as I'd like to attribute something malicious to him, he was snooping before AnneMarie's murder. Now let's-"

"One more thing: after you came back from speaking to Hoffman alone, you looked dejected. Why?"

"He refused to help Aruk."

"Is that the only reason?"

"That's not enough?"

"I just wondered if there was some personal issue between the two of you."

He sat straighter. Stood and smiled. "Oh, there is. We dislike each other immensely. But that's ancient history, and I simply can't allow myself to be drawn into nostalgia. I acted stupidly with Dennis and now I'm persona non grata. But he may allow you to speak to Ben. Please call the police station tomorrow and ask his permission. If he grants it, use your professional skills to offer Ben psychological support. He's living a nightmare."

He came around and rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Please, Alex."

We hadn't gotten into his lie about being part of the Marshall Islands compensation, the nighttime boat rides. And he'd avoided explaining his reaction to Pam and Dennis's friendship. But the look in his eyes told me I'd taken things as far as I could tonight. Maybe there'd be another opportunity. Or maybe I'd be off Aruk before it mattered.

"All right," I said. "But let's get something straight: I'll give Ben the benefit of the doubt till the forensics come in. Unless I get into that cell and he tells me he murdered Betty- or AnneMarie. That happens, I'll march straight into Dennis's office and swear out a statement."

He walked away from me and faced the wall. One of the watercolors was at eye level. Palms over the beach. Not unlike the one where Barbara Moreland had drowned.

Delicate strokes, washed-out hues. No people. A loneliness so intense…

"I accept your conditions," he said. "I'm glad to have you on my side."

As we left for the house, he noticed a fat-petaled white flower and started to describe its pollination. "Oh, shut up," he told himself abruptly, and we continued in silence.

Inside, he gripped my hand. "Thank you for your help."

I watched him walk away quickly. Energized?

A man who studied predation.

Where had he come from the night I'd seen him with his doctor's bag? What had he been doing in the dark lab?

I'd phone the police station in the morning, but my first two calls would be to the airport at Saipan and the company that chartered the supply boats.

Upstairs, Spike's bark greeted me as I entered our suite. Robin wasn't back yet from talking with Pam. Four-fifty A.M. Someone else I might be able to reach.

The connection broke a few times before I finally got an international line. Wondering if anyone could listen in and deciding I didn't care, I told the desk officer at the West L.A. station that I had urgent business with Detective Sturgis. He said, "Yeah, I think he's here."

A minute or so later, Milo barked his own name.

"Stanley? It's Livingstone."

"Hey," he said, "buena afternuna- it's got to be what, five in the morning over there?"

"Just about."

"What's up?"

"A bit of trouble."

"Another cannibal?"

"As a matter of fact…"

"Shit, I was kidding. What the hell's going on?"

I told him about Betty's murder and everything else that had been on my mind.

"Jesus," he said. "After you told me about the first one, I got curious, so I played with the computers. Thankfully, cannibalism hasn't caught on big-time. Other than that Milwaukee moron only thing I came up with was a ten-year-old case, place called Wiggsburg, Maryland. Didn't sound that different from yours- neck slash, organ theft, legs cracked for the marrow- but they caught the bad guys, pair of eighteen-year-olds who decided Lucifer was their main man had ordered them to carve up and dine on a local topless dancer."

"Where are they now?"

"Jail, I assume. They were sentenced to life. Why?"

"There are two guys here who would have been around eighteen back then. They like to cut things up and they've been eyeing Robin."

"But they're not suspects in the killing."

"No, Ben does look good for it. But do you have the Maryland killers' names and descriptions, just to be thorough?"

"Got the fax right here… Wayne Lee Burke, Keith William Bonham, both Caucs, brown and brown. Burke was six three, one seventy, Bonham five five, one fifty-two. Appendectomy-"

"I don't need any more, it doesn't match."

"No big surprise. Things have gotten nuts but I don't see lads who suck out a young lady's bone marrow qualifying for early parole."

"How far is Wiggsburg from Washington, D.C.?"

"About an hour's drive. Why?"

"There's another guy here, D.C. background, also creepy." I filled him in on Creedman.

"Sounds like a prince," he said. "Yeah, I've heard of Stasher-Layman 'cause they built public housing projects years ago in South Central, while I was riding a car at Seventy-seventh Division. Bad plumbing, gang members hired to handle security. Immediate problems. They sold the management contract, then bailed. Had a deal to build a new jail, too, out in Antelope Valley, till the locals found out about their record, protested, and got it kiboshed. So what are they planning to build over there?"

"I don't know."

"Not that it has anything to do with cannibals… so what's Dr. Frankenstein's reaction to his protÉgÉ's predilection for intraspecies feasting?"

"Total denial. Ben was his project- rehabilitating a kid with a rotten background. Be interesting to know if that background includes any serious criminal activity Moreland didn't mention. If you've a mind to go back to the computer."

"Sure, give me the particulars."

"Benjamin Romero, I don't know if there's a middle name. He's thirty or so, born here, went to school in Hawaii and did Coast Guard duty there. Trained as a registered nurse."

"I'll have a go at it. How's Robin handling all this?"

"She's a trooper but I want out. The next boats are due in around five days. If Chief Laurent allows us off the island, we'll be on one of them."

"Why shouldn't he let you off?"

"Public opinion of Moreland and everything associated with him isn't too high right now. We're all under informal house arrest."

"Damned inconsiderate, not to say illegal. Want me to have a little cop-to-cop chat with him?"

"From what I saw tonight, that might make things worse. Moreland tried to influence him and he hardened his stance."

"Maybe that's 'cause he's pissed at Moreland-"Not with my daughter, you don't.' "

"Maybe, but I'll try to handle it myself first. If I have problems, believe me, you'll hear about it."

"Okay… bugs and cannibals. Sounds almost as bad as Hollywood Boulevard."

Feeling rancid, I showered. Robin returned as I was toweling off, and I summarized my talks with Moreland and Milo and told her I wanted to book us on the next boat out.

She said, "It's too bad it had to end this way, but absolutely." She sat down on the bed. "What was that construction company?"