Distemper (11 page)

“Meaning?”

“Meaning if the real guy sees some creep taking credit for his labors, he might step up his own efforts.”

“So you’re saying that pretty much no matter what we do, someone else is going to die? I mean, that seems to me like what
you’re saying—that there’s no way out of this.”

“No, Alex, I… Okay. You’re right. I’m saying there are pitfalls everywhere you look. Make the wrong decision and it could
cost someone her life. Killers kill. That’s what they do.”

“Yeah, and cops catch them,” I said. “That’s what
they
do, remember?”

“I remember,” Cody said, sounding so straight-ahead earnest he might have been taking the Cub Scout oath.

“Look, I don’t mean to sound like a sissy or anything. But might I point out that the second letter was addressed to yours
truly? And at the end he mentions in passing that
the next victim might just as well be me? Am I crazy, or is this grounds for just a little bit of hysteria?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, Alex,” Cody said. “Don’t be scared. It’s probably just an empty threat. From what Quantico
tells us, these guys almost never warn their victims beforehand. It’s practically unheard of. That’s one of the reasons we
tend to think he isn’t for real. In any case, we can protect you.”

“How?”

“We’re assigning you a plainclothes detail. They’ll watch you whenever you’re alone, until we catch this guy. Same goes for
your roommate Marci, since she has such a strong physical resemblance to the other victims.”

“Isn’t that kind of excessive?”

This time the chief answered. “Believe it or not, Bernier, I’ve gotten kind of attached to the idea of you not getting killed.
And besides, having you get offed on my watch, after you’d been threatened and all, is the kind of public relations diarrhea
I don’t need.”

“Come on, Chief. I know your budget. Who’s going to pay?”

“Mayor’s discretionary fund.”

“So as long as you don’t need to plow the streets next winter, everything will be just fine.”

“I don’t like it,” Marilyn said. “No, I don’t mean the guards, Alex. At this point, that’s probably the better part of valor.
I mean letting you guys tell me what to run and what not to run. Hold on, Cody. I heard what you said. And right now I’m not
in a position to know if it’s a song and dance, but if it is, it’s a good one. So although I would like to say for the record
that in no way is this a precedent, I’m going to leave it up to you. I know what
makes good copy, but I have no idea how to untangle that mess of what-ifs you just spun. And I sure as hell don’t want to
think afterward that I got some girl killed. So if you think we should run it, we’ll run it. If you don’t, we won’t.”

“That’s a very smart decision, Ms. Zapinsky,” Cody said. “And a very responsible one too. We’ll get back to you with our recommendation
by the end of the day.”

“Thanks a lot. Now if you wouldn’t mind, get the hell out of my office so I can hang myself in peace.”

W
HEN YOU’RE FEELING ALL FREAKED OUT, NOTHING RE
turns you to your right mind like banana bread. I mean the baking of it, not necessarily the eating, though that’s pretty
satisfying too. There’s something cathartic about the process, all the mashing and puréeing and sifting and egg-cracking.
It allows you to be both destructive and creative at the same time, and your friends thank you afterward. Halfway into the
week the letter writer had given as his deadline-with-a-capital-DEAD, I was home in the midst of a baking orgy when the doorbell
rang. I wiped the fruity sludge off my hands and opened up to find a very irked Detective Cody on my front steps.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Alex? Do you have a death wish?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t even ask who I was before you opened the door.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Aren’t you the least bit concerned about your own safety?”

“The door was locked this time, wasn’t it?”

“You’ve accomplished a great deal. Are you here alone?”

“My housemates just went to the store for a sec. They’re coming right back.”

“Alex, goddamn it, you’re supposed to call for an escort if you’re alone.”

“But they’re coming back in, like, twenty minutes.”

“If I had my way you’d have round-the-clock surveillance, but at this point, we can’t justify the money.”

“Not until my head is actually separated from the rest of my body. I know.”

“Don’t joke.”

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“I was on my way home and I noticed yours was the only car in the driveway, and no cop car either.”

“Hmm. That’s very interesting. You said that the last time you were here, that you stopped by on your way home. But you know
what, Cody? I did a little investigative reporting, and I found out your apartment is on the other side of town from the station
house. So what gives?”

Those freckles of his started a slow burn. “You caught me. Uncle. I was checking up on you.”

“I didn’t know you cared.”

“You’re my responsibility.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You fell over. I was the one who caught you.”

“So it’s a karma thing.”

“Yeah. You got another Guinness for me?”

I went into the kitchen and when I got back to the living room I could see him casting about for a place to sit that didn’t
look like it was going to sprout a tail. He finally settled on the arm of the couch next to Shakespeare, who looked up long
enough to see if he happened to be carrying a steak. “Am I interrupting you? If you’re in the middle of cooking, I can entertain
myself until your roommates get back.”

“I just threw four loaves of banana bread in the oven. It takes over an hour, so there’s nothing I can do with the rest until
then.”

“How many are you making?”

“Eight.”

“You feeding an army?”

“At the
Monitor
, it’ll last an hour.”

“Smells good.” He reached into his jacket pocket. “Mind if I smoke?”

“You smoke? But you’re such a square.”

“Not much. Only when I have a beer. I smoke, I drink.”

“You didn’t last time.”

“I was trying to be polite. So can I smoke?”

“Outside. It’s a nonsmoking house. Emma smokes Dunhills sometimes, but only out on the back porch.”

“Are you serious? Look at this place. I’ve never seen so much dog hair that wasn’t connected to a dog. I’ve got clumps on
my tongue. And I can’t smoke in here?”

“We all have our foibles.”

“It’s freezing out.”

“So don’t smoke.”

“Is my mother paying you?”

“No, but if she’d like to, I could use the money.”

“Okay, you win. Sorry if I’m being rude. I’m just jonesing for nicotine.”

“Is this a cop thing?”

“No. Maybe. Probably it’s the case.”

“Can you talk about it?”

“Course not. You don’t smoke?”

“Used to. A lot. But now I equate smoking with hysteria.”

“How so?”

“When I got upset about a guy, I’d smoke. Then I got so upset over a guy, no amount of nicotine did any good. So I figured,
what’s the point? Packed it up. Haven’t smoked since.”

“And you don’t crave it?”

“Nope.”

“Lucky. So who was the guy?”

“How do you men in blue like to put it? ‘No comment.’ “

“Not very sporting.”

“It was somebody who died, okay? Now drop it.”

“Adam Ellroy?”

The name hit me like a sockful of nails. All of a sudden I wanted to punch him, and for no good reason. “If you already knew,
why did you ask?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to see if you’d tell me.”

“Power trip?”

“Maybe.”

“Is
that
a cop thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Too bad. Because I’m much more interested in scoping out other people than spilling my own guts.”

“You already know my life story. Now it’s your turn. Cops like grilling people too, you know. Best part of the job.”

“Why are you so curious?”

“Truth? I have no idea. I just am.”

I got up and went to the coat closet, pulled a beach towel off the top shelf, and spread it out on the couch to cover the
dog hair. “Here. You might as well make yourself comfortable while you’re guarding my honor. Besides, I’m not sure the couch
arm was made to stand up to a man your size.” He moved over and Shakespeare promptly stood up, turned around, and settled
with her head on his lap.

“Nice pooch.”

“Love of my life.”

“Is this the part where you tell me she doesn’t usually take to people this quickly, so I must be special?”

“Shakespeare? Hardly. She’ll shake paws with cops or criminals. Not what you’d call discriminating.”

He scratched her behind the ears. “Zeke would like you.”

“Zeke?”

“He’s my dog.”

“What kind?”

“Lab and something. Maybe husky. He’s a mutt.”

“How old?”

“Four.”

“And you got custody in the divorce?”

“Damn straight.”

“Gee, Cody, I’m getting a newfound respect for you. Do you have a picture?”

“Of my dog? You mean in my wallet?”

“Sure.”

“Nah. I used to carry one, but my ex said it was idiotic.”

“No wonder the marriage was doomed.”

“Yeah, well, it was probably doomed anyway.”

“So how come you got hitched?”

“I thought I was supposed to be grilling you.”

“Good luck.”

“Okay, what say I trade you one for one? I spill some hideously painful personal detail, then you.”

“So let me get this straight. Is this the point when we bond by sharing details of our empty lives?”

“Works for me.”

“Deal. But only if I think you came across with something sufficiently hideous.”

“That’s tough but fair.”

“So go. Hand me your tale of woe.”

“And you won’t call me a nancy boy behind my back?”

“Not unless you cry.”

“I’ll try not to. Anyway, it’s not even that interesting. Her name was Lucy, we met in college…”

“You went to college?”

“Cops can’t go to college?”

“Sure they can, I guess. I never really thought about it.”

“Well, lots of us do nowadays. Some of us even know which fork to use.”

“Sorry. No offense. You were saying?”

“I went to U-Mass on a Navy ROTC scholarship. After graduation, I owed the service four years, and I was damned if I was going
to spend it sailing around in a circle,
so I applied for the SEALs. I probably would have gone career except my ex said she wouldn’t marry me unless I got out. What
she really wanted was to be married to a cop.”

“Isn’t that weird? I mean, I thought being a cop’s wife was supposed to be so stressful and all.”

“It’s a lifestyle. Her dad was a cop, and both her brothers. She wanted me in the family business.”

“And you just went along?”

“Seemed like the thing to do.”

“So you chose a career to please a girl who wound up dumping you anyway?”

“Truer words were never said.”

“That’s awful.”

“It might have been, I guess. But the fact is I love what I do, and twenty years in the navy would have been about fifteen
years too long. So there you go. Sometimes you make the right choice for the wrong reason.”

“So how did she tell you?”

“Ah. You want gory details.”

“Naturally.”

“She fixed us breakfast, ate some pancakes, and told me she was leaving me while I was washing the dishes.”

“What did you do?”

“I threw up. Then I moved in with my partner. Slept on his couch for a month while I thought things over, and in the end I
decided to get out of Dodge.”

“Why?”

“Like I told you before, she was banging my lieutenant. He was married too, and kids. Man, what a mess… I guess I just didn’t
want to stick around for the cleanup. And besides, my mom needed the company.”

“What happened to the ex?”

“They shacked up for a while, but he ended up getting back with his wife. Last thing I heard she was seeing a captain, sleeping
her way up the chain of command. I figure sooner or later she’ll wind up with the chief of police.”

“You miss her?”

“Nah.”

“You with anybody else since her?”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“A boy’s best friend is his mother.”

“You realize that’s from
Psycho
.” He laughed, a deep chuckle that seemed to clear the dregs of memory. “Pardon me if I don’t go take a shower now.”

“Your turn.”

“Do I have to?”

“Unless you want me to call you a chicken.”

“You want another beer?”

“Quit stalling.”

“This is perverse. But okay, a deal’s a deal. Here goes. When I was working at a paper in western Mass, I met this guy. His
name was Adam Ellroy. I fell for him like a ton of bricks, but in the end he went back to California to the love of his life.
I move to Gabriel, she winds up giving him the shaft, and he comes back east to get away from it all. We sort of get back
together, and the next thing I know he’s dead at the bottom of the gorge. Everybody thought he’d offed himself, but I couldn’t
let it go. So I didn’t.”