Daddy's Little Killer (22 page)

"No shit, Sherlock."  Maya held up one
hand.  "I know.  Don't call you Sherlock."

"This is some deep seeded psychopathy. 
I haven't seen anything this pervasive, covering so many years and
so brilliantly concealed … ever."

Her mouth pulled downward.  "You almost
sound like you admire this guy, Helen."

"I'd love to dig around in his psyche,
Maya.  It goes no further than that, believe me.  This
guy is a predator, make no mistake.  He's careful.  He's
dangerous.  He's intelligent.  He's got to at minimum
have knowledge of forensics and police procedure."

"When you said he's concealed all of this
for so many years, what did you mean exactly?  We're talking
fifteen, right?"

"More like thirty," I said.

"Helen, how old is this guy?"

"Old."

"Then how is he able to overpower young
girls?"

"It's like you said.  Foster was killed
by someone smaller and weaker.  Without any bodies for the
missing girls, we have no evidence of partnership in the past, nor
for Brighton Bennett, thanks to the lackadaisical approach to
autopsy by Riley Storm.  Gwen is the first one where we have
DNA that can definitively link this guy to the unsolved sexual
assaults.  Do you see why I need a rush on that DNA?"

"We can only push it to the front of the
line.  The science takes as long as the science takes."

"In the meantime, I can start looking for
these victims, see if their stories square with each other.  I
could learn a hell of a lot about his ritual."

"Now there's a ritual?"

"There's got to be.  Something about
the survivors was different from the girls who died.  I need
to know what that was."

"Why would anyone
help
this guy commit
these crimes?"

"It wouldn't be the first time a couple got
their jollies from raping and killing together.  Recent
history is peppered with this kind of psychopathy.  Paul
Bernardo and Karla Homolka.  Phillip and Nancy Garrido."

Maya shuddered.  "How could a woman
knowingly cooperate with her husband keeping a child in the
backyard, impregnating her more than once, and simply go along with
it?" in reference to the Garrido's.

"Or take part in the rape and murder of your
own little sister," I referenced Bernardo and Homolka.  "It
boggles the mind, but make no mistake, Maya.  The best way to
stop these monsters isn't to put them to death.  They need to
be put under a psychological microscope until we understand what
created them."

"In a hospital?"

"Prison," I said.  "Hospitalization
would be too kind."

Even Dad would agree that
there was no conceivable justification for murdering, raping or
otherwise abusing innocent children.  In fact, he would
especially
agree.

Chapter 20

Charlie Haverston looked rested and fresh as
a daisy when I met him in the lobby at Central Division at eight
fifteen.  His eyes bugged.

"What in the world happened to you?"

"You don't like my transformation?"

"Dr. Eriksson –"

"Charlie, after this case, we at worst are
on a first name basis."

His voice dipped low, and he pulled me
aside.  "What in God's name is going on?  The crime lab
called and said they found more surveillance devices.  Orion's
bodyguard took off with your luggage.  You didn't answer your
phone –"

I pulled the cell out of my pocket and
stared at the dead screen.  "I haven't charged it.  I'm
sorry, Charlie.  I've been working on the profile all
night."

"And to make matters worse, Danny Datello is
upstairs in an interview room cooling his heels for the last
fifteen minutes waiting for someone who looked like a no-show."

"I'm here now.  Waiting a few minutes
isn't going to kill Datello.  I'm sure he doesn't like it, but
this isn't his ballgame, Charlie.  This is our turf,
remember?"

"Weber is looking for you."

"Yippie."

"Helen, this is serious.  Something is
going on around here and for the first time I can remember,
nobody's talking about it."

"Good.  A little discretion at Central
Division is long overdue.  I'm gonna run up and talk to
Datello.  Let Hardy and Weber know that I can meet with them
after I finish this interview."

"I don't think they're willing to wait."

"Too bad.  They brought me here to
solve crimes.  That doesn't happen by executive
committee."  I paused before heading toward the stairs. 
"Do I look utterly unexpected?"

Charlie shook his head and laughed.  "I
barely recognized you.  What's with the get-up?"

"I spent the night in the morgue and as you
well know, someone else has custody of my luggage.  Come down
to the interview after you talk to Chief Weber.  I want you
part of this conversation, Charlie."

A pin dropping would've echoed when I
marched through the squad room and headed for interview. 
Caffeine thrummed through my veins and excited every nerve in my
body until they congealed into a solid mass in my gut. 
Walking into a room with Danny Datello was either the most
brilliant thing I would ever do or the most ill-advised.

There was no avoiding it.  He knew I
was here.  I knew he was here.  Doubt swirled through my
brain about the bumbling PI's Orion was convinced Datello
hired.  Like many other things bouncing around me, it didn't
add up.

Squelching the temptation
to observe Datello from behind the glass was difficult.  My
hand hesitated, trembled even when I reached for the
doorknob.  What did Datello suspect, and what did he
know?  My lower lip endured a little more damage. 
Keep them off balance, Helen.  It's your
best weapon
.  Wendell's advice
blanketed me with a sense of calm confidence.  I pushed the
door open and stepped inside.

Datello sat at the table, navy blue Armani
from shoulders to floor.  It must've been en vogue this
season.  Garish diamond cufflinks pierced his starched white
sleeves.  Face a little too olive, hair a little too black,
hands a little too pudgy.  Uncle Sully would see him as a soft
man. 

Cold brown eyes impaled me.  I was
impervious to his attempt at intimidation.  Until he
stood.

Datello dwarfed his east coast family.
Funny, the details one misses when she doesn't realize she should
be paying attention.

"Mr. Datello?"

"Dr. Eriksson, I presume."

"Good.  We've heard
of each other."  I relaxed a little at his willingness to play
the
first introduction
game.

"Please be seated," the fat left hand with
an effeminate pinky ring, an enormous sapphire set in gold and
circled by diamonds, glittered under the fluorescence.

My house, Datello.  "After you. 
Please, I insist."

"I was somewhat surprised to receive a
summons to Central Division, Dr. Eriksson.  Even more
surprised that they've delegated my missing person's report to the
infamous criminal profiler fresh from Quantico."

I sat down and stared hard.  "This
isn't about a missing person's report, Mr. Datello.  As a
matter of fact, Gwen Foster isn't missing at all."

One raven brow twitched.  "Do tell,
doctor."

"It's detective now, if you don't mind."

Datello jerked at his cuffs, twisted his
neck slightly.  "I hadn't heard.  I suppose
congratulations are in order.  George must be beside himself
at scoring such an impressive coup for the department."

"Aren't you interested in where Gwen Foster
is right now?"

"Judging from your
sanctimonious tone, I'd say that Gwen is in police custody, being
offered some illegal enticement to manufacture evidence against
me.  Isn't that why you're really here,
detective
?"

I shook my head.  "Wrong, wrong, and no
comment."

His laughter chilled me and knotted the mass
in my belly a little tighter.  "Then where is she?"

"At the present moment, most of Ms. Foster
is in the Bay County Morgue."

One swift intake of breath served as his
reaction.

"However, we haven't recovered all of her,
just yet, but I have high hopes.  The reason I asked you here
is two-fold.  Number one, you were Gwen's employer.  I'd
imagine you knew her quite well.  Any information, no matter
how insignificant you might find it would be helpful to me in
–"

"Shut up!"

"Excuse me?"

"When was she killed?"

"Tuesday."

"It's Thursday and you
people are telling me
now
?"

"Which brings me to fold number two.  I
need Vinnie Bennett back in Darkwater Bay.  Today,
preferably."

"You can't possibly think that child had
anything to do with this!  He adores … adored her.  We
all did."

"Then you'll cooperate fully with my
investigation?"

Tiny lines appeared around Datello's
eyes.  "Is this why you're out here, Helen?"

"I'll ask the questions if you don't
mind."

"Anything that might pertain to Gwen is at
your disposal.  I'll see to it that Vinnie is back home today
on one condition."

"What would that be, Mr. Datello?"

"You treat him with respect.  He is not
a suspect in this.  I have half a dozen employees that can
verify that he's been in San Diego since Sunday night."

"He's not a suspect," I agreed. 

"I'd ask for your word, but you know I don't
trust it."

"Fair enough.  We don't trust each
other.  But I'll give my word just the same.  Vinnie
Bennett is not a suspect in his cousin's murder.  Nor is he a
suspect in a murder that is linked to Gwen's."

"Linked to … what
murder?"  Datello's olive skin paled to the range of day old
corpse.  "My God. 
Most
of her remains are at the morgue!  No. 
No, no, no, no, no.  That's not
possible
."

"I hear that you and Frank Bennett forged
quite a friendship after your initial squabble over environmental
protection.  It must've been a serious blow to the friendship
when you brought the man accused of killing Brighton Bennett into
the community."  I perched my elbows on the table, folded my
hands and rested my chin atop the stack.  "Interesting what
happened to Mr. Masconi after the charges against him were dropped,
don't you think?"

Datello stiffened.  "I'm unaware of
where he went or what he did after Johnny Orion's infamous
mistake.  If you want those details, I'm afraid you'll have to
talk to him, Detective Eriksson."

"Oh, I have talked to him.  He, like
everyone else, has no clue where Salvatore Masconi moved.  I
find that particularly interesting."

"Why?"

I shrugged.  "Just a peculiarity. 
Are you aware that Gwen Foster has a child somewhere in the
world?"

Datello's jaw clenched.  He knew. 
At least, he knew more than he was willing to share. 

"How does that kind of information help you
find Salvatore Masconi, detective?"

"I don't think Sal killed her.  In
fact, I think you were right when you said it wasn't
possible.  Could I offer you a drink, Mr. Datello?  You
look a little … dry."

"I'm fine," he half-snarled the words at
me.  "You look ridiculous by the way.  What are you
doing, moonlighting at Dunhaven on your time off?"

"I don't know what Dunhaven is, but no, I'm
not moonlighting.  I'm serious about solving this murder, Mr.
Datello.  I can't help but have my interest piqued by your
initial assumption of where Gwen was this morning.  Did she
have knowledge of some of your business practices that might've
been, I don't know, of specific interest to the police?"

"My businesses are clean."

I stared, let the silence soak the room
until Datello shifted in his chair.

"I am not involved in illegal activities,
Helen.  Despite certain relatives –"

"So Gwen didn't know anything to tell the
police.  That's why you assumed we would entice her to
confabulate, correct?"

Datello folded his hands on the table,
twisted the pinky ring, moved to the diamond encrusted band on his
left ring finger.  "We had no secrets.  There was nothing
for Gwen to tell the police or the FBI or anyone else.  I've
done nothing wrong, and my business operations are all completely
legitimate."

"You're married?"

"Yes."

"Congratulations.  Married long?"

"Three years."

"That's a fair amount of time, I
suppose.  Hard to hold a marriage together sometimes, isn't
it?"

"I'm afraid you'd know more about that than
I would."

"Have you been back east lately, Danny?"

"I was tempted to attend a funeral recently,
but in the end felt that my presence would be unwise.  How was
it?"

"Rainy.  Cold.  Cheerful
event."

"You bitch," he rasped softly.  Eyes
darted to the window behind me.

That's right, Datello.  Feel the eyes
watching, just like I do.

"If there were no secrets, why didn't you
know about Gwen's child?"

"We had a business relationship,
detective."

"So Gwen wasn't invited to the wedding?"

"It was a private event, in Hawaii."

"Were you aware that Gwen hired Johnny
Orion?"

Fists clenched.  "She did no such
thing."

"Oh, but she did.  Orion won't tell me
why, but Gwen definitely had him watching her day and night."

"If Gwen had a problem, she would've come to
me."

"I have documentation, Mr. Datello. 
For the past three months, Orion was camped outside Gwen's house
standing guard.  Are you certain that Gwen would've turned to
you if she had a problem?"