Plain Jane (17 page)

“Over at Nancy’s house.”

That didn’t make any sense. Nicole must not have heard Ruben correctly. “But there is no way the killer could have made the thirty blocks in less than ten minutes.”

Any relief from finding Rebecca alive had completely drained from Nicole’s face. “He did not. Plain Jane hit Nancy’s house,
not
here.”

Kent backed away as the EMTs loaded Rebecca onto a gurney. “No way. No how. This was Plain Jane.”

“We need to head over to the station—”

“I can smell him, Nicole. Smell him. Just feel this room. He was here. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you?”

Nicole looked away. “They are taking the suspect in for interrogation. I suggest if you want answers, we should head over there.”

He watched Nicole head to the front of the house. Kent looked around the dim bedroom one last time. He would go with her. He would look at this supposed suspect, but his confidence was unshaken.

The killer had been here tonight.

Of that, Kent had no doubt.

CHAPTER 64

Ruben sat across from Plain Jane.

The
Plain Jane.

The city’s worst serial killer in recorded history.

Sure, he had captured other murderers. Interrogated dozens of them. Extracted confessions from many of them. But he’d never actually been this close to a bona fide serial killer before.

It wasn’t quite the heady experience he had expected.

The guy looked like any other suspect. Maybe a little calmer than most, but still his eyes darted toward the door. Perps were always the same. Even though this one had declined counsel and signed his waiver, the creep still expected someone to come through that door and save him.

But the door stayed closed. Ruben let the guy stew for a bit. He let the drab gray cinder block walls press in. Let the guy study the cracked paint and that long red smear behind Ruben. It looked like clotted blood but was actually an old ketchup stain. They left it there for the effect.

For the same reason, Ruben had turned off the room’s heater. The northern storm’s cold air was quickly seeping through the walls and single-paned windows. The perp’s respiratory rate increased the longer Ruben just sat there. Let him get cold. Let his balls retract up into his belly.

They had him dead to rights on the break-in and even attempted murder. The DA could take this case to trial right now and have the jury come back with a guilty verdict in two minutes flat.

No, that’s not what this interrogation was about. It was about the other seven women. Joann, Claudia, and all the rest. For that they were going to need some solid forensic evidence, but even better, a confession.

Without Nicole here to play the good cop, he’d have to take a stab at it himself. Build rapport with the guy. He had studied enough texts, including Harbinger’s, on interviewing serial killers to know the stock barrage of questioning was not only unnecessary, but put them at the disadvantage.

Most serial killers wanted to tell their stories, you just had to give them their venue. Make them think you cared enough for them to share.

It galled Ruben. Cut across the grain to soften his tone, but he needed to show as much finesse as Harbinger. Even more.

“Martin. Can I call you Martin?” Ruben began.

The perp shrugged.

“Martin, where’d you get the scalpel?”

“It’s mine.”

“Obviously. Your prints were all over the handle,” Ruben commented. This was one interrogation he was going to relish. Even more so once Harbinger arrived. Let the profiler sit in the galley and watch for once. “Well, Martin, where did you get it?”

“A friend.”

“Really? Because according to your neighbors, you don’t have a lot of friends.”

“That’s not true!”

Ruben watched Martin’s eyes dart. This interrogation was going like clockwork. Now that he had gotten a rise out of the perp, Ruben needed to cajole him. “So? Prove them wrong. Who’s your friend?”

“A buddy. He works on Farmshire Ranch.”

Ruben couldn’t help but allow a small grin to form. He had been right this whole time. It had been an equine handle all along. Kent was going to eat crow for a month.

CHAPTER 65

Kent held the door open for Nicole, obviously surprising her with his newfound manners. When working a case, his gentlemanly skills usually suffered. Oh, who was he kidding? He never held much stock in chivalry.

Bending her head slightly in appreciation, she passed into the observation room, which looked like any other precincts. Really it was just a narrow hall looking over two one-way mirrors.

Glick was the only inhabitant, and he didn’t even bother to look over to know who came in. “Good thing one of you stayed at Nancy’s.”

Nicole looked down, but Kent didn’t give a shit what the captain thought. The profiler was here to confirm that Ruben hadn’t accidentally hit the serial killer jackpot, then head back out. Clear his head. Completely wipe the slate clean of all preconceptions and find a new bead on the killer.

Plain Jane had given over so much of himself in the past few days. So many clues. So many tells. The genesis for his uterus craving. The fact that he could not take a ripe womb.

So much, yet Kent still grasped at tendrils of smoke. After he dismissed this suspect, he would go back to the beginning. The profiler would do some very specific research.

Arriving at the one-way mirror, Kent stared at the so-called “Plain Jane” killer. The guy scratched at his palm, eyes darting back and forth like he was watching a tennis game.

“So this is the mastermind that killed over thirty women?” Kent asked no one in particular.

“Plain Jane,” Glick proudly announced.

Kent chuckled. “Yeah, right.”

Nicole fired him a look, but he just chuckled as he turned toward the exit.

“Don’t you even want to talk to him?” Nicole asked.

“We caught him dead to rights breaking into Nancy’s house,” Glick chimed in. “Scalpel in hand.”

Kent sneered. “Do you really think that’s what a prolific serial killer acts like under interrogation? They’re cold as ice or warm as a peach on a spring day. They’re not nervous or worried or even the slightest bit out of sorts. They’re more in control than the interrogator.”

She took a step closer. “You say that all the time, but couldn’t one be different? Couldn’t one act just like Martin to throw us off?”

“How do you think Dahmer convinced the cops to give him back his captive? Do you really think he stood there with shifty eyes and itchy palms? Or Vansalez talked his way out of a speeding ticket with three torsos in the backseat?”

Even though he was answering Nicole, he glared at Glick. This was a waste of time. Kent didn’t need to go in there and prove Martin wasn’t Plain Jane. The evidence would do it for him while he was out actually catching the killer.

“But how?” she asked. “How can they stay so cool?”

As much as he wanted to get out of there, he couldn’t resist it when she looked at him with such respect and wonder. You might as well give him some crack.

“It’s called purposeful forgetting.” How many times had Kent taught the technique to FBI recruits and Special Forces alike? He taught it to special agents to break serial killers and soldiers to be able to endure torture. “How can the cop sense you’ve got body parts tucked under the backseat, if you, yourself, have forgotten? If you don’t remember you’re a serial killer, it’s a little hard to give yourself away.”

Nicole wanted to ask something, but Glick overrode her. “That doesn’t change that fact that we’re tossing his place as we speak.” The captain’s confidence grew. “They’ve already found human blood in the sink traps. Just waiting to match it to one of the victims.”

“Great,” Kent said as he turned toward the exit. “Call me when you do, otherwise I’ll be out catching Plain Jane.”

Glick blocked his departure. “You’re that sure that Martin isn’t our guy?”

That sure?
Kent asked himself.

Absolutely
certain
it wasn’t Martin from the moment he’d laid eyes on the puny man. He pointed toward the perp.

“Look at him. Nervous. Palms sweating.” Kent geared up as he pointed toward the man’s hand on the table. “Look at his nails, for Christ’s sake. Way too long to be fishing around in someone’s belly.”

“That’s it? This is where you impress us with your brilliant insight, then walk off, leaving us with the mess?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Kent said as he stepped around the captain.

“Glad to see history can repeat itself over and over again. With the same outcome
over
and
over
again,” Glick said as he moved to block the profiler again. “Oh, wait. Isn’t that the definition of insanity? Repeating the same behavior but expecting different results?”

Nicole stepped between them. “Captain!”

“What? Harbinger doesn’t get to act this crazy, then expect us not to mention the fact he’s a pain in the ass.”

“Sir!” Nicole might be freaking out, but Kent felt only amusement. Did Glick really think he could try some pop psychology crap and get Kent to comply?

“If you don’t believe that’s Plain Jane in there, then prove it, Harbinger.”

Kent threw a thumb toward the interrogation room. “I’m sure Desperado in there is well on his way to securing a
confession
.”

“Just don’t bitch if another woman dies. I don’t want to hear your ‘I told you so’ routine again.”

He was nearly out the door when Nicole grabbed his arm but directed her comments to the captain. “Can we please keep this conversation to the present problem?”

“What? Harbinger’s gotten really good at pointing the finger after the fact.” Glick stared the profiler straight in the eye. “But not so good at standing up for what he believes in.”

Okay, the captain had gone too far that time. “
That
is bullshit,” Kent snapped. “You can say all you want about my emotional veracity, but I speak my mind.”

Glick took a step forward, forcing Nicole out from between them. “Usually as you are running out the door.”

“Captain!” Nicole unsuccessfully tried to wedge in.

“If you are going to go contrary to the evidence, Harbinger, then make a stand. Make it here. Make it now.”

“Or?” Kent couldn’t wait to hear the answer.

“Or? You’ll stay fucked-up forever, son.”

CHAPTER 66

Nicole stood horrified. What had gotten into Glick? And Kent was no better. He looked ready to punch the older man, and she wasn’t so sure the captain didn’t deserve, at least just a little bit.

Then Kent smiled. “Luckily, that’s how I like it.”

With that, Kent was out the door. She was too stunned to follow. He had abandoned her,
again
.

They had made such progress tonight. In the car she felt that maybe, just maybe, they could overcome the last two years. But now this. Typical Kent behavior. Why stick it out when he could run?

She should have been livid with Kent, but instead she vented on Glick. “What was that about?”

“He’s got to change. It’s not enough to just be a profiler, even if he’s a fucking-mind-blowing-brilliant one. At some point, he’s got to be a…”

“A man?” Nicole asked bitterly.

“I was going to say, ‘an adult.’ A citizen.” Glick’s face softened. “A partner.” When she did not reciprocate the look, her captain continued, sounding tired. “Until then, he’s just another Rasputin.”

While Nicole searched for a retort, Glick turned up the audio feed from the interrogation room.

CHAPTER 67

Ruben changed the subject, keeping the suspect off-kilter. “So, Martin, how did your parents get along?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Ruben hadn’t expected that answer. This guy was trying to jack him around. That just wasn’t going to fly. Not tonight. “Really? Because I just got this faxed over.”

Pulling out papers from a file, Ruben laid them all out in front of Martin. “Looks like the cops were regular visitors at your childhood home, breaking up your little family spats.”

The perp shrugged. “Parents fight. It was no big deal.”

Ruben shook his head and pointed to the emergency room photos. Some were pretty ugly. Others downright gruesome.

“Your mother was hospitalized three times for fractures and at least once for a concussion.”

The man averted his eyes and angled his body away from the photos. Shoving an especially explicit picture of a split lip, Ruben pressed harder. “So it didn’t have any lasting effect seeing your mom punched hard enough by your father that she swallowed three teeth?”

The perp squirmed. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“Oh, no. It was no misunderstanding. X-rays confirmed. It was three teeth. That time her lip took twenty-seven stitches to close.”

CHAPTER 68

Despite her anger, Nicole couldn’t help being drawn to the window. Ruben was doing a pretty good job in there.

Glick dialed down the audio. “The guy’s pitch-perfect for Ruben’s profile.”

“But exactly the opposite of Kent’s.”

The captain indicated the door that led into the interrogation room. “So go in there and prove him wrong.”

“Which
him
?”

Glick sighed. “Whichever one needs it.”

With a set to her jaw, Nicole inserted the earpiece that Glick offered and entered the interrogation room. If Kent wasn’t going to hang around to prove this guy was a copycat, it was up to her.

Torres was in the middle of a question when Nicole walked in. “Maybe Martin would rather talk about how he feels regarding women in authority?”

Ruben went to stand up, but she put a firm hand on his shoulder. “No. Stay put,” she said, doing her best dominatrix impersonation. “I’m just here to watch.”

Nicole strode to the back of the room and positioned herself in the perp’s blind spot. She and Ruben had danced to this tune before. Usually he leaned up against the wall while she played the ‘good’ cop, trying to help the perp. But not now. Not with a possible serial killer. A killer of women. Tonight she got to put the pressure on.

Over their earpieces, Glick spoke in a somber tone. “Sorry, guys. It’s female blood all right, but it doesn’t match any of our victims.”