The Pain Nurse - страница 39

“Cheryl Beth?”

“Cheryl Beth Wilson, RN.” He drew out each syllable. “I consider her a person of interest.”

“Come on…”

“She found her, you know.”

Now Will remembered that night, when he had been groggy on drugs, terrified of the late-night trip to the MRI. He had seen her there, outside the office, her white lab coat stained with blood.

Dodds went on. “It gets better. She was banging Lustig’s husband. I call that motive.”

Will was starting to hurt again, but he had to hang on. He had gotten this far. He said, “Yeah, you should have seen how effectively she fought against this guy in the hall. No way. Why aren’t you looking at the husband?”

“Fuck you.”

“Because you know it’s the Slasher. It takes you awhile to come around sometimes, if you didn’t think of something in the first place. But you know, Dodds. You know who did this.”

Will moved his wheelchair closer. “You know why I was in that old atrium today, on my ass, on the floor, when the homeless guy attacked me?”

Dodds opened his hands as if a bird would appear and fly away.

“Bud Chambers dumped me there on the floor. It’s probably a miracle he didn’t do worse.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Will told him about the confrontation. “Thanks for spreading the word about me,” he added.

“It wasn’t me, but believe what you want,” Dodds said. “Look, I get where you’re coming from with Chambers. I didn’t just like him for Theresa, I loved him. But we couldn’t make the case. Remember how much time we spent on him and that skank girlfriend, what the hell was her name?”

“Darlene.”

“We couldn’t build a case. Hunches aren’t evidence. And command didn’t want another scandal. So they eased him out. Okay, they eased him out after you pushed for it. But we never could find a connection between Chambers and the other killings. Then we got Factor. A jury agreed. How the hell do you explain the DNA?”

“That was only on Theresa.”

“So?”

“So, Factor was technically only convicted on that crime. It was just assumed he did the other two. Anyway, you’re the one who always says young detectives depend too much on DNA, that they’ve lost the ability to do old-fashioned police work. We screwed up. He’s killing again. This one,” he indicated the doctor’s office, “has all the marks of the Slasher, right down to the hidden knife. Nobody knew about the hidden knife except us and the killer. He just loves to mind-fuck us.”

“Okay, assuming Bud was good for the three women. And don’t go nuts, because that’s a big leap. I’m not there with you. But assuming… Why would he kill Christine Lustig?”

“I don’t know. Let me see the murder book.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Dodds gave a petulant laugh. “Take my word for it. There was no link. The doctor didn’t know this guy. Why would he come for her? Even if he’s a serial killer, why her?”

“Have you questioned Chambers? Until you do, you won’t know.” Will suddenly felt a crushing exhaustion, as if a wave had hit him. He pushed on. Even the words hurt to say. “Maybe she was his type, the one that makes his fucked-up mind want to kill again. He just sees her once and this nut-job gene goes off in his brain. She looked like Theresa. See if he’s been around the hospital. He knew his way well enough to find me.”

Dodds stared into his lap. “Maybe. But we never heard about hang-up calls with the three.”

“They were dead by the time we could ask, and they were all single women living alone.”

“We ran the LUDs on every one. We only saw Chambers’ number on Theresa’s phone, which is explainable. And we found…”

“I know,” Will interrupted, “what we found. Killers can buy disposable cell phones, use pay phones. Hell, we see that every day with drug dealers. He was a cop, for God’s sake.”

“Maybe.”

“Let me see the murder book.”

“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’d better watch your ass. You have a gift for making enemies, and let’s just say you’re not in fighting trim.”

Will wasn’t listening. He was so tired. He managed, “He’s going to kill again. Soon.”

The guard walked Cheryl Beth to her car that night, as he had since the killing. His name was Don and he was a tall, lanky black man whose stride she had difficulty matching. Still, she had grown to enjoy his company. He talked about his children and his car, comforting subjects. He had never asked her about finding Christine-he seemed like the only person at the hospital who didn’t want to know all the details. Tonight, he was out of character.