Jeffery Deaver - The Cold Moon

Rhyme glanced at her. He knew she'd be thinking of Nick Carelli. Thinking of her father too.

Duncan continued. "Then Baker said there was a new problem. He needed someone else eliminated, a woman detective. But they couldn't kill her themselves-if she died everyone'd know it was because of her investigation and they'd follow up on the case even more intensely. I came up with this idea of pretending to be a serial killer. And I made up a name-the Watchmaker."

Sellitto said, "That's why there were no hits in the watchmaker trade associations." They'd all come back negative on a Gerald Duncan.

"Right. The character was all a creation of mine. And I needed someone to feed you information and make you think there really was a psycho, so I found Vincent Reynolds. Then we started the supposed attacks. The first two I faked, when Vincent wasn't around. The others-when he was with me-I bungled them on purpose.

"I had to make sure you found the box of bullets that'd connect the Watchmaker to Baker. I was going to drop them somewhere so you'd find them. But"-Duncan gave a laugh-"as it turned out, I didn't have to. You found out about the SUV and nearly got us."

"So that's why you left the ammunition inside."

"Yep. The book too."

Another thought occurred to Rhyme. "And the officer who searched the garage said it was curious you parked out in the open, not at the doorway. That was because you had to make sure we found the Explorer."

"Exactly. And all the other supposed crimes were just leading up to this one-so you could catch Baker in the act of trying to kill her. That'd give you probable cause, I figured, to search his car and house and find evidence to put him away."

"What about the poem? 'The full Cold Moon…'"

"I wrote it myself." Duncan smiled. "I'm a better businessman than a poet. But it seemed sufficiently scary to suit my needs."

"Why'd you pick these particular people as victims?"

"I didn't. I picked the locations because they'd allow us to get away quickly. This last one, the woman here, was because I needed a good layout to flush out Baker."

"Revenge for your friend?" Sachs asked. "A lot of other people would just've had him killed outright."

Duncan said sincerely, "I'd never hurt anybody. I couldn't do that. I might bend the law a bit-I admit I committed some crimes here. But they were victimless. I didn't even steal the cars; Baker got them himself-from a police pound."

"The woman who was the first victim's supposed sister?" Sachs asked. "Who was she?"

"A friend I asked to help. I lent her a lot of money a few years ago but there was no way she could repay it. So she agreed to help me out."

"And the girl in the car with her?" Sachs asked.

"Her real daughter."

"What's the woman's name?"

A rueful smile. "I'll keep that to myself. Promised her I would. Just like the guy in the club who set me up with Baker. That was part of the deal and I'm sticking to it."

"Who else is involved in the shakedowns at the One One Eight, other than Baker?"

Duncan shook his head regretfully. "I wish I could tell you. I want them put away as much as Baker. I tried to find out. He wouldn't talk about his scheme. But I got the impression there's somebody involved other than the officers from the precinct."

"Somebody else?"

"That's right. High up."

"From Maryland or with a place there?" Sachs asked.

"I never heard him mention that. He trusted me but only up to a point. I don't think he was worried about my turning him in; it seemed like he was afraid I'd get greedy and go after the money myself. It sounded like there was a lot of it."

A dark-colored city car pulled up to the police tape and a slim, balding man in a thin overcoat climbed out. He joined Rhyme and the others. He was a senior assistant district attorney. Rhyme had testified at several of the trials the man had prosecuted. The criminalist nodded a greeting and Sellitto explained the latest developments.

The prosecutor listened to the bizarre turn the case had taken. Most of the perps he put away were stupid Tony Soprano sorts or even more stupid crackheads and punks. He seemed amused to find himself with a brilliant criminal-whose crimes, as it turned out, were not nearly as serious as it seemed. What excited him far more than a serial killer was the career-making prosecution of a deadly corruption scam in the police department.

"Any of this going through IAD?" he asked Sachs.

"No. I've been running it myself."

"Who cleared that?"

"Flaherty."

"The inspector? Running Op Div?"

"Right."

He began asking questions and jotting notes. After doing so, in precise handwriting, for five minutes he paused. "Okay, we've got B and E, criminal trespass…but no burglary."

Burglary is breaking and entering for the purpose of committing a felony, like larceny or murder. Duncan had no purpose other than trespassing.

The prosecutor continued. "Theft of human remains-"

"Borrowing. I never intended to keep the corpse," Duncan reminded him.

"Well, it's up to Westchester to decide that one. But here we've also got obstruction of justice, interference with police procedures-"

Duncan frowned. "Though you could say that since there were no murders in the first place, the police procedures weren't necessary, so interference with them is moot."

Rhyme chuckled.

The assistant district attorney, however, ignored the comment. "Possession of a firearm-"

"Barrel was plugged," Duncan countered. "It was inoperable."

"What about the stolen motor vehicles? Where'd they come from?"

Duncan explained about Baker's theft from the police impound lot in Queens. He nodded to the pile of his personal effects, which included a set of car keys. "The Buick's parked up the street. On Thirty-first. Baker got it from the same place as the SUV."

"How'd you take delivery of the cars? Anybody else involved?"

"Baker and I went together to pick them up. They were parked in a restaurant lot. Baker knew some of the people there, he said."

"You get their names?"

"No."

"What was the restaurant?"

"Some Greek diner. I don't remember the name. We took the four-ninety-five to get out there. I don't remember the exit but we were only on the freeway for about ten minutes after we got out of the Midtown Tunnel and turned left at the exit."

"North," Sellitto said. "We'll have somebody check it out. Maybe Baker's been dealing in confiscated wheels too."

The prosecutor shook his head. "I hope you understand the consequences of this. Not just the crimes-you'll have civil fines for the diversion of emergency vehicles and city employees. I'm talking tens, hundreds of thousands of dollars."

"I have no problem with that. I checked the laws and sentencing guidelines before I started this. I decided the risk of a prison sentence was worth exposing Baker. But I wouldn't have done this if there was any chance somebody innocent would get hurt."

"You still put people at risk," Sellitto muttered. "Pulaski was attacked in the parking garage where you left the SUV. He could've been killed."

Duncan laughed. "No, no, I'm the one who saved him. After we abandoned the Explorer and were running out of the garage I spotted that homeless guy. I didn't like the looks of him. He had a club or tire iron or something in his hand. After Vincent and I split up, I went back to the garage to make sure he didn't hurt anybody. When he started toward you"-Duncan glanced at Pulaski-"I found a wheel cover in the trash and pitched it into the wall so you'd turn around and see him coming."

The rookie nodded. "That's what happened. I thought the guy stumbled and made the noise himself. But whatever, I was ready for him when he came at me. And there was a wheel cover nearby."