David Baldacci - Hour Game

Sylvia shook her head. "You're crazy. You're as crazy as Eddie, you know that? And to think I was looking forward to rekindling what we had."

"Right, me too. Guess I'm really lucky."

Her face twisted hideously. "All right, you've had your say, now get out. And if you repeat one word of it, I'll sue you for slander."

"I'm not finished yet, Sylvia."

"Oh, there's more insane talk to come?"

"A lot more. You were also the one who burglarized the Battles' home."

"You just don't stop, do you?"

"Bobby had probably given you the access code and a key. Junior had done work for you, you told us that. You got the stuff to frame him easily enough, and who better to forge a print than a medical examiner? I'm not sure how you did that, but I know with a very experienced person that it's possible."

"Why would I burglarize their home? What would I want with Remmy's wedding ring?"

"You didn't care about the ring! There was something else you were after. Battle was in a coma in the hospital. You weren't sure if Remmy knew about Bobby's secret cache. You weren't even sure what you wanted was in there, but you had to look. In Bobby's closet you knew where the secret drawer was, but you didn't know how to open it and had to break in. Someone would obviously see that, so you broke into Remmy's closet to make it look like a burglary and framed Junior for it. You'd probably heard from Bobby that Remmy had a secret cupboard in her closet, but he didn't know its exact location. That's why you had to bust everything up, looking for it."

"And what exactly was I supposed to have stolen?"

"A picture of you and Bobby together. Some of the lettering from the back of the Kodak paper had stained the drawer. He might have told you he kept it there. Either way, you had to get it back. Because if he died and the photo was discovered, people might start putting the pieces together about your husband's death. And even if you weren't to blame for that, no one would believe you. And maybe it seemed pretty ironic your ending up with Remmy's wedding ring. Did you ever wear it in the privacy of your home?"

"Okay, that's it! Get out! Now!"

King didn't budge. "And did you really have to kill Kyle? What, was he trying to blackmail you?"

"I didn't kill him. He was stealing from me!"

King glanced over at the coatrack. "You were doing Hinson's post the night Battle was killed. You said Kyle came to the morgue that night, but you didn't mention that you'd seen or spoken to him, only that he'd accessed the door, and that was recorded on the security log."

"I never saw him. I was in the back working on Hinson."

"Not around ten o'clock you weren't. And that's probably what Kyle saw, or, more to the point, didn't see." He pointed at the neatly arranged things by the coatrack. "Your jacket, shoes and such you always place there when you're here working. And it's also pretty strange to perform an autopsy at night and without assistance or a witness, as you did with Hinson. You gave Todd such a hard time about him ducking the other autopsies, but you didn't want him at Hinson's, because you had someplace else to be. Namely, killing Bobby during the nurse changeover. You feigned illness when Todd called you later that night about Battle 's death because you had to complete Hinson's post, or else you couldn't bring yourself to see Battle 's body so soon after you'd killed him."

"That's crazy. And I wanted to perform the autopsy as quickly as possible. The body will only give clues for a certain period of-"

"Save the lecture for somebody who cares," said King. "I'm betting Kyle put all this together and tried to blackmail you. So you came to me with the perfectly true fact that he was stealing drugs and selling them, and I told you I'd have Todd see Kyle the next day. Only by then you'd killed him. Maybe you went right after we finished dinner. And during the post you conveniently found enough evidence to make it look like murder. And of course there was Dorothea ready to take the blame, which I'm certain was your intent. In fact, I bet you recognized her at the Aphrodisiac and knew she was Kyle's drug client."

He looked over at her. She was simply staring blankly at him now. "But was it all worth it for a monster like Battle? Was it, Sylvia? You were just one in a hundred. He didn't love you. He didn't love anyone."

She picked up the phone. "Unless you leave right now I'm calling the police."

King rose. "Oh, just so you know, Eddie put me onto this. He knew you'd killed his father; that's why he was going to kill you."

"So now you're listening to convicted murderers?"

"Ever heard of a guy named Teet Haerm?"

"No."

"He lived in Sweden. Maybe still does. He was accused of killing some people back in the eighties. He was arrested and convicted, but it was later overturned and he was set free."

"And what exactly does that have to do with me?" she said icily.

"Teet Haerm was the medical examiner for the city of Stockholm. It's said that he even performed the autopsies on some of his victims. Probably the only time that had ever happened. At least until now. Eddie left a clue behind, only he misspelled it on purpose. He wanted to get to you first after all." He paused and added, "I don't know if Teet was guilty or not, but I know you are."

"And you can't prove one word of anything you've said."

"You're right, I can't," conceded King. "At least not right now. But let me tell you something, lady, I'm not going to stop trying. In the meantime I hope your guilt will ruin your life."

King walked out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

KING AND MICHELLE BOARDED the small plane and flew down to South Carolina. From there they drove an hour to the maximum security prison Eddie Battle had been transferred to and where he would spend the rest of his life. Michelle chose to wait outside while King went in.

Eddie was brought in wearing shackles and surrounded by four beefy guards who never took their eyes off him. Eddie's hair was shaved to the scalp, and there were scars and wounds on his face and forearms which King knew had been inflicted since he'd been incarcerated. He wondered how many others were hidden under the jumpsuit. He sat down across from Eddie. They were separated by inch-thick Plexiglas. King had already been instructed on all the visitor's rules, chief of which was to make no sudden moves and never ever try to have any physical contact with the prisoner.

King knew he'd have no trouble following those procedures.

"I'd ask you how it's going, but I can see."

Eddie shrugged. "It's not that bad. Pretty basic stuff. Kill or be killed and I'm still here." He eyed King with a curious look. "Didn't expect to be seeing you again."

"I had a few questions to ask you. And then I had something to tell you. What do you want first?"

"Give me the questions. The boys in here don't have many. Spend most of my time in the library. Lifting weights, playing ball, getting some of the boys organized into a team. They won't let me paint, though. Guess they're afraid I'll drown somebody in a bucket. Shoot."

"First question: Did your father's stroke start everything in motion?"

Eddie nodded. "I'd been thinking about it for a while. Wasn't sure if I'd have the balls to actually do it. When the old man went down, it just snapped in my head. Now or never."

"Second question: Why kill Steve Canney? I thought you did it for your mother, but now I know that wasn't the case."

Eddie shifted in his seat, the shackles rattling. One of the guards looked over. Eddie smiled and waved before looking back at King. "My parents let my brother die, and my old man goes off and has another son with some slut. Well, I didn't want or need another brother. This Canney kid grew up healthy and strong. That should've been Bobby, you hear me? It should've been Bobby." His voice rose higher, and now all four guards looked over. King didn't know if he was more frightened of Eddie or them.