Tess Gerritsen - The Keepsake

“I’ll ask you to leave now.”

“Take a look at what he’s done.”

He turned toward the door. “I don’t need to see those.”

“Take a fucking look. ”

He stopped and slowly turned toward the coffee table. As his gaze landed on the photos, his eyes widened in horror. While the doctor stood frozen, she rose from the chair and steadily advanced on him.

“He’s collecting women, Dr. Hilzbrich. He’s about to add Josephine Pulcillo to that collection. We have only a limited time before he kills her. Before he turns her into something like that. ” She pointed to the photo of Lorraine Edgerton’s mummified body.

“And if he does, her blood is on your hands.”

Hilzbrich had not stopped staring at the images. His legs suddenly seemed to give way, and he stumbled to a chair where he sat with his shoulders slumped.

“You knew Bradley was capable of this. Didn’t you?” Jane said.

He shook his head. “I didn’t know.”

“You were his psychiatrist.”

“That was over thirty years ago! He was only sixteen. And he was quiet and well behaved.”

“So you remember him.”

A pause. “Yes,” he admitted. “I remember Bradley. But I don’t see how anything I could tell you would be useful. I have no idea where he is now. I certainly never thought he was capable of…” He glanced at the photos. “That.”

“Because he was quiet and well behaved?” She couldn’t help a cynical laugh. “You, of all people, must know that it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for. You must have seen the signs, even when he was sixteen. Something that warned you he’d someday be doing that to a woman.”

Unwillingly, Hilzbrich focused again on the photo of the mummified body. “Yes, he would have the knowledge. And probably the skills to do it,” he admitted. “He was fascinated by archaeology. His father sent him a box of Egyptology textbooks, and Bradley read them again and again. Obsessively. So yes, he’d know how to mummify a body, but to actually attack and abduct a woman?” He shook his head. “Bradley never took the initiative in anything and had trouble standing up to anyone. He was a follower, not a leader. For that, I blame his father.” He looked at Jane. “You’ve met Kimball?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know how he takes command of everyone. In that family, Kimball makes all the decisions. He chooses what’s right for his wife, for his son. Whenever Bradley had to make a choice, even for something as simple as what to eat for dinner, he’d have to mull it over in great detail. He’d have trouble making a split-second choice, and that’s what abducting a victim requires, isn’t it? You spot her, you want her, you take her. You don’t have time to dither over whether you’ll do it or not.”

“But if he had a chance to plan, couldn’t he manage it?”

“He might fantasize about it. But the boy I knew would’ve been afraid to actually confront a girl.”

“Then how did he end up at the institute? Isn’t that what you specialized in, boys with criminal sexual behaviors?”

“Sexual deviances come in a variety of forms.”

“Which form did Bradley’s take?”

“Stalking. Obsession. Voyeurism.”

“You’re telling me he was just a Peeping Tom?”

“It had gone some ways beyond that, which was why his father sent him to the institute.”

“How far beyond?”

“First he was caught several times peering into a teenage neighbor’s window. Then he progressed to following her at school, and when she very publicly rejected him, he broke into her house while it was empty and set fire to her bed. That’s when the judge gave Bradley’s parents an ultimatum: Either the boy went for treatment, or he faced incarceration. The Roses chose to send him out of state so the gossip wouldn’t find its way into their exclusive circle of friends. Bradley came to the institute and stayed for two years.”

“That seems like a pretty long stay.”

“It was his father’s request. Kimball wanted the boy fully straightened out so the family wouldn’t be embarrassed by him again. The mother wanted him back home, but Kimball prevailed. And Bradley seemed contented enough with us. At the institute, we had woods and hiking trails, even a pond for fishing. He enjoyed the outdoors and he managed to make some friends.”

“Friends like Jimmy Otto?”

Hilzbrich grimaced at the mention of that name.

“I see you remember Jimmy, too,” said Jane.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Jimmy was…memorable.”

“You’ve heard that he’s dead? He was shot to death twelve years ago, in San Diego. When he broke into a woman’s house.”

He nodded. “A detective called me from San Diego. He wanted background information. Whether I thought Jimmy might have been committing a criminal act when he was killed.”

“I’m assuming you told him yes.”

“I’ve treated hundreds of sociopathic boys, Detective. Boys who’ve set fires, tortured animals, assaulted classmates. But only a few have really scared me.” He met her gaze. “Jimmy Otto was one of them. He was the consummate predator.”

“And it must have rubbed off on Bradley.”

Hilzbrich blinked. “What?”

“You don’t know about their partnership? They hunted together, Bradley and Jimmy. And they met at your institute. You didn’t notice?”

“We had only thirty inpatients, so of course they’d know each other. They would have participated in group therapy together. But these boys were completely different personalities.”

“Maybe that’s why they worked so well together. They would have complemented each other. One the leader, the other the follower. We don’t know who chose the victims, or who did the actual killing, but it’s clear they were partners. They were compiling a collection together. Until the night Jimmy was killed.” She fixed him with a hard gaze. “Now Bradley’s carried on without him.”

“Then he’s turned into a different person than I remember. Look, I knew that Jimmy was dangerous. Even as a fifteen-year-old, he scared me. He scared everyone, including his own parents. But Bradley?” He shook his head. “Yes, he’s amoral. Yes, you could persuade him to do anything, maybe even kill. But he’s a follower, not a leader. He needs someone to direct him, someone to make the decisions.”

“Another partner like Jimmy, you mean.”

Hilzbrich gave a shudder. “Thank God there aren’t a lot of monsters like Jimmy Otto around. I hate to think about what Bradley might have learned from him.”

Her gaze dropped to the photos on the table. He learned enough to carry on alone. Enough to become every bit as monstrous as Jimmy.

She looked at Hilzbrich. “You say you can’t give me Bradley’s records.”

“I told you. They’ve been destroyed.”

“Then give me Jimmy Otto’s.”

He hesitated, puzzled by her request. “Why?”

“Jimmy’s dead, so he can’t complain about patient confidentiality.”

“What good will the files do you?”

“He was Bradley’s partner. They traveled together, killed together. If I can understand Jimmy, it may give me a window into the man Bradley has become.”

He considered her request for a moment, then nodded and stood up. “I’ll have to find the file. It may take me a while.”

“You keep it here?”

“You think I can afford to pay for storage? All the institute’s files are here in my house. If you wait, I’ll get it,” he said, and walked out of the room.

The grotesque photos on the coffee table had served their purpose, and she couldn’t bear looking at them any longer. As she gathered them together, she had a disturbing image of a fourth victim, another dark-haired beauty salted down to jerky, and she wondered if at that very moment Josephine was being ushered into the afterworld.