Wild Justice

You needed someone to comfort you, and you came to me. When I found out what you' d gone through in the mountains I felt like a complete shit.

There wasn't any reason for you to feel that way, Amanda said, answering more sharply than she had intended.

Tony looked upset. He took a deep breath.

We were friends, Amanda. You don't have to sleep with someone to care for them.

The hostess chose that moment to tell them that their table was ready. Amanda was grateful for the interruption and followed her in embarrassed silence. The hostess gave them menus and a wine list. As soon as she left, Tony put down his menu.

Let me clear the air, okay? Otherwise we're both going to be blushing and mumbling all evening. I' m going to start with Justine. I' d seen her around the hospital, but I never spent much time with her until Cardoni attacked Mary Sandowski. I happened to be passing by when Justine confronted him. I was afraid that he might hit her, so I asked if there was a problem, just to let Cardoni know that Justine wasn't alone. After we calmed down Mary, Justine and I talked. One thing led to another. When I ran into you at the Y, we were already sleeping together.

Tony paused and looked down at the table.

I don't want you to take this the wrong way. I' m not someone who flits from woman to woman. But Justine and I ... Well, I don't know any other way to put this. Our sex was recreational. She was going through a hard time, and I was a distraction. I liked her and I think she liked me, but it didn't mean anything.

Tony ...

Let me finish. You did mean something to me. I've always liked you, even when we were kids. But it was more like a big-brother-little-sister thing then. When I saw you at the Y it was confusing. You weren't a kid anymore. You were a woman. I didn't know how to treat you. After we spent those two evenings together I couldn't stop thinking about you, and I wanted to see you again.

So what stopped you?

I was accepted into one of the best residency programs in the country, and it was in New York. A long-distance romance didn't make any sense. And I had no idea how you felt about me. We' d only dated a few times. You were starting a career. Tony shrugged. Then you saw me with Justine. The only thing I want to know is how badly I hurt you, because I always hoped that you didn't care enough for me for my leaving to matter.

A welter of emotions confused Amanda. She was thrilled that Tony felt strongly enough about her to bare his soul, but his frontal assault was coming so fast that it didn't give her time to think.

I don't know how I felt when you left, Tony. It's been years, and a lot has happened in between.

Maybe that's best, he said. Maybe we should just start over and see what happens. Would that be okay? Could you do that?

Amanda smiled. I' m here, aren't I?

I guess that's right. You didn't shoot me down.

And I didn't shoot you, either. She smiled. Not yet, anyway.

The waiter arrived, and Tony seemed grateful for the interruption. Amanda opted for a safe topic of conversation as soon as the waiter left with their orders.

What are you doing at St. Francis?

I've finished my residency and I' m an attending plastic surgeon. I just gave a paper in New Orleans, last Friday, at the annual meeting of the American Society of Plastic and Reconstructive Surgeons, Tony said proudly.

What was it about?

The long-term aesthetic effects of immediate versus delayed breast reconstruction using the pedicled TRAM flap.

In English, please, for the scientifically impaired.

Tony laughed. Sorry. It's not that complicated, really. You can do breast reconstruction after a mastectomy in a number of ways. The pedicled TRAM flap involves taking abdominal tissue to use in the reconstruction. You don't have to do the reconstruction at the same time as the mastectomy. You could do it a year later, if you wanted to. But I've concluded that immediate reconstruction looks better, and I talked about the basis for my conclusion. Impressed? Tony asked, sipping his margarita.

Not bad for a college dropout, Amanda answered with a smile.

Now that you know all about pedicled TRAM flaps, fill me in on what you've been up to. It said in the paper that you just won a death penalty case. Are you specializing in criminal law like your father?

Yup. I think I' m genetically programmed for it.

Do you like representing criminals?

I don't know if like is the right word. Criminal law is exciting, and I think the work is important. With a case like Justine's I feel I can do some real good.

How is she holding up?

She's a strong woman. But no one really does that well under these circumstances. She's worried about her career and her future. Jail is a lousy place to be even if you're guilty. It's hell if you're innocent.

So you don't think she's guilty?

No, I don' t.

Why?

Amanda was not certain how much she should reveal about the case to someone who was not involved in Justine's representation. But Tony was very bright, and it would be interesting to see how a nonlawyer saw the case after hearing the facts.

You have to promise to keep what I tell you to yourself.

Of course. Doctors have confidentiality restrictions, too.

Amanda laid out what she knew. Tony tensed when she described the similarities between the Milton County and Multnomah County crime scenes, and his brow furrowed when she explained that an anonymous caller had summoned the police to the farmhouse.

It looks like a setup, Tony concluded when Amanda was done. I can't believe that the cops don't see it.

A setup doesn't fit into their scenario. It complicates matters, and the cops like their cases to have simple solutions.

What about the anonymous call that sent the cops to the farmhouse? How do they explain that?

The DA says he doesn't have to explain it, that it's my job to construct a defense for Justine.

That's bullshit. It's obviously a frame. And you know what I think? It's got to be someone with access to the hospital. Think about it. The scrubs, the cap, the scalpel all that stuff came from St. Francis, and they aren't something a casual visitor could pick up. You' d have to know when Justine was going to be in surgery, you' d have to have access to the room where Justine discarded her cap and scrubs.

That means Justine has an enemy at St. Francis, Amanda said. Do you know anyone who hates her so much he would do something like this?

Tony thought for a moment, then shook his head.

The only person I can think of ... No, it's not possible.

You're thinking about Vincent Cardoni.

Yeah, but he's dead.

We don't know that for sure, Amanda said. His body was never recovered.

You think Cardoni is working at St. Francis?

I think it's possible. He' d have to have had plastic surgery and he couldn't be working as a doctor. He doesn't have a hand.

Actually ... , Tony started, then stopped, lost in thought.

What?

Tony looked up. He leaned toward Amanda.

A hand transplant, he said excitedly. It's possible to transplant a hand. They tried it for the first time in Ecuador in 1964. The operation failed because the tissue was rejected, but there are new antirejection drugs and advanced surgical techniques that have resulted in several successful hand transplants.

Of course, Amanda answered, echoing Tony's excitement. I remember reading about them. She sobered suddenly. A transplant would be so spectacular that everyone would know about it. The one I remember was front-page news. If Cardoni had a hand transplant in the past four years, we' d have heard.

Not if it was done clandestinely. Didn't Justine believe that Cardoni had money stashed away in offshore accounts?

Yes.

With enough money, Cardoni could find a doctor who would change his appearance and try a hand transplant. And he doesn't have to be working as a doctor. Maybe he has a prosthesis and is working at some other job.

Tony thought for a moment. Do you know when the farmhouse was purchased?

About two years ago, I think.

Tony leaned forward. He looked intense.

That's it, then. I'll get someone in personnel at St. Francis to give me a printout of every male employee who was hired in the past two years. Cardoni could change his appearance and his weight. He could also change his height, but I' m betting he didn' t. I'll look for white men about six-two who are roughly Cardoni's age.

Tony reached across the table and covered Amanda's hand with his.

If Cardoni is at St. Francis, I'll track him down. We'll catch him, Amanda.

The waiter arrived with their wine and the first course, and Amanda had a chance to calm down. She ate her salad in silence while she thought about getting Tony involved in Justine's case.

Maybe I should have our investigator get the personnel records.

Why?

If Cardoni is our killer, you' d be putting yourself in danger by looking for him.

Your investigator wouldn't have the expertise to spot a really good facial reconstruction. I' d recognize one in an instant. And believe me, I' m not going to take any chances. If I find Cardoni, we'll go straight to the police.

Amanda hesitated.

Amanda, I like Justine. I don't want to see an innocent person suffer. But I like me, too, and I' m too young to die. I appreciate how dangerous this can be. I' m not going to put myself at risk.

Promise?

Promise.

You know what? Tony asked.

What?

I think we should stop talking shop for the rest of our meal.

Amanda smiled. I agree. What shall we talk about?

I just had an idea. Have you seen the new Jackie Chan flick?

I haven't seen a movie in ages.

It's showing at the Broadway Metroplex at ten-thirty. Are you in the mood for some mindless violence?

You bet.

Tony smiled. You're a girl after my own heart.

Chapter 45

When Bobby Vasquez had called earlier for an appointment, Mary Ann Jager had answered her own phone. Now he knew why: The lawyer's tiny waiting room reeked of failure. There was no receptionist, and the top of the receptionist's desk was bare and covered with a light layer of dust. Vasquez knocked on the doorjamb of an open doorway. A slender woman with short brown hair looked up, startled, from the fashion magazine she was reading.

Vasquez had learned a lot about Jager from the Martindale-Hubbell Law Directory listing of attorneys' rTsumTs and the file of complaints against Jager that he had obtained through the Oregon state bar. She had gone to work for a midsized firm for a decent salary after graduating high in her law school class. There were no problems until shortly before her divorce, when a client complained about irregularities in her trust account and rumors of substance abuse began to circulate. Jager was suspended from the practice of law for a year and fired from her firm. When she could practice again, she opened her own office. Jager's history was very similar to that of Walter Stoops, and Vasquez wondered if Cardoni found his lawyers by studying complaints filed against members of the bar.

Ms. Jager? I' m Bobby Vasquez. I called earlier.

The lawyer stood up quickly, walked around her desk and extended a damp hand. Vasquez noticed a slight tremor.

I hope you weren't waiting outside long, Jager said nervously. My receptionist is out with that flu that's going around.

Bobby smiled sympathetically, though he was certain that there was no receptionist and very little business, to judge from the empty state of Jager's in-box and her bare desktop.

I' m interested in contacting the owner of some land you purchased approximately two years ago for Intercontinental Properties, a corporation you formed, Vasquez said when they were seated.

Jager frowned. That was a farm, right?

Vasquez nodded, breathing a silent prayer of thanks that he had beaten the police to Jager and that she did not know that the land she had purchased had been turned into a slaughterhouse.

I' d like to help you, but I have no idea who owns the property. The owner contacted me by mail. I was paid to form Intercontinental Properties for the sole purpose of buying the land. My retainer and the money for the property were paid in cashier's checks. I forwarded the title to a post office box in California.

If you could give me the owner's name, I can try to trace him.

I don't have a name. There was no signature on my instructions.

This all sounds very mysterious.

It is, but it's completely legal.

Of course.

Vasquez paused, then acted like a man who has just gotten an idea.

Could I see your file? Maybe there's a clue to the owner's identity in it.

I don't know if I can do that. The information in the file is privileged.

Vasquez leaned forward and lowered his voice, even though he and the lawyer were alone.

Ms. Jager, my client is very intent on negotiating for this property. He has authorized me to compensate you for your time and for reasonable copying costs. I don't see where a problem would arise. Most of the information is public record anyway.

The mention of money got Jager's attention.

I charge one hundred and fifty dollars an hour.

That sounds reasonable.

Jager hesitated, and Vasquez knew that she was desperate for more money. He hoped that she didn't go crazy on him. Until the Jaffes hired him, he was fronting his expenses.

My copying costs are rather high. I would need another fifty dollars to cover them.

That's fine.

Vasquez slid two hundred dollars across the desk.

May I see the file?

Jager rotated her chair and retrieved a manila folder from a cabinet behind her desk. Inside, Vasquez found copies of documents he' d seen in the Multnomah County file. He only asked for copies of the checks. Jager was gone for a few minutes. When she returned, she handed a stack of photocopies to Vasquez.

What's so important about this farm? Jager asked. You're the second person who's been interested in it. Is someone going to build a subdivision?

Someone else asked about this property?

Yeah, about a week ago.

Vasquez put the photocopies away and dug a photograph of Cardoni out of his attachT case.

Was this the man?

Jager studied the photograph for a moment. Then she shook her head.

The man who came in was blond and looked different. More like a Russian.

How tall was he?

Over six feet.

Did he say why he wanted to buy the property?

No. He was more interested in how it was purchased.

Can you tell me any more about him?

No. He just showed up and asked about the farm.

Did you show him the file?

Yes.

Vasquez was stumped. Who else would be interested in the farm?

If this guy shows up again, try to get some more information about him.

How will I let you know?

Vasquez gave Jager his business card and another fifty.

Ten minutes later Vasquez was on the phone with Amanda Jaffe.

Have you had a chance to talk to your father about me? Vasquez asked anxiously.

I' m lead counsel on Dr. Castle's case, so it's my decision.

Look, I know you're worried, but I' m good and I've already got a jump on the cops.

Vasquez eagerly related what he had learned during his meeting with Mary Ann Jager. Amanda only half listened until Vasquez told her that someone else had been asking about the property.

Do you think he was just interested in buying the farm? Amanda asked.

I don't know. I showed Jager a photograph of Cardoni. The person who came to the office was his height, but Jager said that he looked different.

If he's alive, Cardoni may have had plastic surgery.

If he's alive, I'll find him. It doesn't matter what he looks like.

Vasquez's determination pushed Amanda toward a decision. Frank might not trust Vasquez, but she did. He had a burning desire to get Vincent Cardoni, and you could not buy that kind of drive.

Mr. Vasquez, I think you can help Dr. Castle. I want you to work for me.

You won't regret this. What do you want me to do?

Serial killers refine their techniques. Our murderer has used a unique MO twice. I want you to see if he's used it before. Start searching for unsolved murders involving mass graves. Maybe you'll find another property purchased in a similar way. Maybe we'll get lucky and Cardoni has made a mistake that will let us nail him.

Chapter 46

Mike Greene had asked Fred Scofield to send him a copy of the Milton County file in the Cardoni prosecution shortly after Justine Castle's arrest. It arrived on Monday afternoon. Greene was reading the file when Sean McCarthy walked into his office a little after five. The homicide detective looked depressed. He dropped a sheaf of police reports on Greene's desk and lowered himself into a chair.

Jesus, you look terrible, Greene said. You want some coffee?

McCarthy dismissed the offer with a despondent wave.

We have a real problem, Mike. Everything we've got so far makes me believe that the person who committed the murders in Milton County also committed the murders at the farm. Both properties were purchased at the behest of an anonymous buyer through dummy corporations set up by a lawyer who's been in deep trouble with the bar. The crime scenes are so similar that it can't be a coincidence.

Greene looked confused. Why is that a problem?

If Dr. Castle murdered the victims at the farm, we screwed everything up four years ago.

Then we'll make everything right.

That might not be so easy. If we can't prove Cardoni's dead, the Jaffes will argue that he's returned to frame Castle. They can call Fred Scofield and Sheriff Mills as witnesses to testify that they were convinced that Cardoni murdered the victims in Milton County. Hell, Mike, they can call me and I' d have to swear that I was certain that Cardoni did it.

Greene thought about that. He pointed at the papers that were strewn across his desk.

The evidence against Cardoni was pretty convincing.

And there was none implicating Dr. Castle.

Greene was lost in thought for a moment. When he turned his attention back to McCarthy he looked concerned.

Have you been able to identify the victims at the farm? Are any of them connected to Castle?

The poor bastard who died in the basement was a male prostitute named Zach Petrie. He showed up at the emergency room at St. Francis a week before he died, but there's no record of Castle being involved with the case.

What about the others?

Diane Vickers was a prostitute who was treated for a sexually transmitted disease at St. Francis, but as far as we can tell, Castle didn't treat her. David Capp was a runaway, and we can't find any link between him and St. Francis or Justine Castle.

Now, no one reported Petrie, Vickers or Capp missing, but we' d been treating the disappearance of Kimberly Lyons, the other female victim, as a possible homicide since she went missing a few months ago. Lyons was a student at Portland State. From what we can tell, she was abducted at the Lloyd Center mall. Her car was found there, and she told her friends that she was going to shop for a birthday present for her boyfriend.

Do you think the others were also random kidnappings?

McCarthy shrugged.

How about taking a new look at the old victims to see if we can link them to Castle?

I' m already doing that.

Greene smiled. Sorry, I should have assumed you would be. Anything else new?

The DNA test identified the hair in the surgical cap as Castle' s. I also talked to the lawyer who was representing Cardoni in his divorce. Castle went through with the divorce after Cardoni disappeared and made out like a bandit.

How well?

She cleared around two million dollars.

Greene whistled. Two million dollars is a good motive for murdering Cardoni.

The lawyer also told me Castle was certain that Cardoni had set up secret bank accounts in Switzerland and the Cayman Islands, but she never found them. When I asked when she started looking for them, he said it was well before she filed.

Why is that important?

Four years ago Castle testified at her husband's bail hearing. She said she left him when he raped her, but it looks like she may have been checking into his finances way before that.

So what do we have, a black widow?

It's beginning to look that way, Mike. If she killed Cardoni, it won't be the first time she's offed a husband.

Oh?

It might not even be the second time.

Chapter 47

The matron closed the door to the visiting room behind Justine Castle, and Amanda motioned to the chair across from her. Justine had lost weight, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

We've got a problem, Justine, Amanda said.

Justine watched Amanda warily.

The DNA tests of the hair found in the surgical cap came back positive for you.

Justine seemed to relax a bit, as if she' d expected Amanda to say something else.

I assumed it would, Justine told Amanda. Whoever planted the coffee mug and the scalpel obviously took a cap I used during surgery.

There's more. Mike Greene's developing a theory that you married Vincent Cardoni for his money and killed him to get it.

Justine smiled wearily. That's utterly ridiculous.

Greene thinks he can prove it, and he's not simply going to describe you to the jury as a gold digger. He's going to characterize you as one of the most depraved serial killers in history.

Justine leaned back in her chair. Her smile widened.

Isn't that what they said about Vincent? Aren't they going to have a hard time explaining how I murdered the victims in Milton County when all of the evidence points to him?

Amanda was surprised that her news had not upset Justine more. She studied her client for a moment. Justine did not blink under the scrutiny.

You've been thinking about this, haven't you?

Why does that surprise you, Amanda? My life is at stake, and I have nothing but time on my hands.

Well, you're right. The Milton County case hurts Mike, but he can overcome it if he has evidence that you've killed before for money.

Justine's smile faded. What are you talking about?

I reread the autobiography you wrote for me. You left out some things. Like the fact that you shot your first husband to death.

Amanda watched the color drain from Justine's face.

And I didn't see anything in your bio about the one hundred thousand you cleared on his insurance or the several hundred thousand dollars you inherited when your second husband died a violent death within a year of marrying you. Didn't you think I would be interested in these little tidbits?

I shot Gil in self-defense, Justine said, her voice barely above a whisper, and David's death was an accident. They have nothing to do with this.

That isn't what Mike Greene thinks. Damn it, Justine, you can't hide something like this. I've got to be prepared. This isn't a shoplifting case. If we make one mistake, the State is going to kill you. And you can be damn sure that the DA will find out every little secret you decide to keep from me.

I' m sorry.

Sorry doesn't cut it. Anything you tell me is confidential. Remember me saying that? I don't care how bad it is, you tell me. No one else gets to know, but I've got to know if I' m going to save your life. Okay?

Justine didn't answer. She just stared past Amanda, who let her collect herself.

How did they find out? Justine finally asked.

The same way Herb Cross did when my father was representing Vincent.

Justine's head snapped up. Your father had me investigated?

Dr. Cardoni told my father that you killed the victims in Milton County. We followed up on the accusation.

How can you represent me if you think I framed Vincent? Justine asked angrily.

I don't think that, and neither does my father. He never believed Cardoni. He was just doing his job.

Can the DA bring up Gil's and David's deaths?

He'll sure as hell try.

Will it be in the papers?

Of course. Even if we keep the evidence from the jury, the legal arguments will be in open court.

Justine squirmed in her chair and her shoulders hunched.

This is no good, she said, more to herself than Amanda. Then she looked across at her attorney. You can't let them do this, she pleaded. No one knows about my past here.

The DA does. He knows that you insured Gil Manning for a hundred thousand dollars less than a year before you shot him.

That was for the baby, Justine said desperately. When we got married, Gil was working construction. He wasn't making enough for us to have our own place. I had to think about how I' d take care of our baby if something happened to him.

You didn't cancel the policy after your miscarriage, Amanda said softly.

Justine looked stunned.

After my baby ... After he ... I ... I wasn't thinking very clearly for some time after that happened.

Alex DeVore interviewed Gil's parents. They believe you murdered Gil.

Anger restored color to Justine's cheeks. She glared at Amanda.

Do you know why Gil thought it was okay to use me as his private punching bag? He watched his father use his mother that way. Living in that house was like living in hell. Gil and his father were both abusive drunks, and the drinking got worse when high school ended. All of a sudden Gil wasn't a god, and neither one of them could take that. Then I lost my figure when I got pregnant, and Gil wasn't married to the most desirable girl in Carrington anymore. I became an inconvenience, except when Gil needed someone to blame for his problems.

Why didn't you leave when he started to beat you?

Where could I go? My parents wouldn't look at me after Gil knocked me up. I had no money.

Gil's parents say you drove him to drink and tormented him until he lost his self-control.

Of course they say that.

There's an interview with David Barkley's parents in which they accuse you of setting him up.

That's not true. I loved David.

They say they warned David that you were after his money. They also say that David didn't drink.

His parents didn't know the first thing about him. The autopsy showed that David's blood alcohol was point-two-oh. He hated them, and he drank because of the pressure they put on him. I loved David, but he was an alcoholic. I thought I could change him, but I couldn't and he died.

The neighbors say you and David quarreled the night he died.

Justine looked down at the tabletop.

He was drinking too much, she said softly. We had words, and he stormed out and drove away. I couldn't stop him.

You inherited David's trust fund and the proceeds of another life insurance policy when he was killed.

Justine looked directly into Amanda's eyes when she said, Yes, I did.

And there was another policy on Dr. Cardoni.

Which the insurance company refuses to pay.

Nevertheless, you see how this looks.

No, Amanda, I see how the district attorney wants to make it look. I' m counting on you to make a jury see the way it really is.

Chapter 48

Amanda broke into a smile when the receptionist announced that a Dr. Fiori was calling on line two.

Hi, Tony said. I had a great time Friday.

That makes two of us.

I got home late from the hospital. That's why I didn't return your message sooner. I was afraid I' d wake you.

Actually, I was probably up. I've been working on Justine's case into the wee hours. Any luck at the hospital?

Hey, I' m a regular Dick Tracy. Not only did I come up with a list, but I've already eliminated a few suspects.

How?

I followed them.

Don't do that!

I thought I' d save you some trouble. Tony sounded hurt.

I' m serious, Amanda insisted. It's dangerous. Fax me the list and let my investigator do the rest.

Don't panic. I' m being very careful.

Damn it, Tony. Promise me you'll stop.

Okay, okay, I promise. Tony paused. Seeing as you're pissed, is this a bad time to ask you out for this Saturday?

Amanda laughed in spite of herself.

You're on, she said, but only if you behave yourself.

Listen, I've got to run. Think of something nice for Saturday and get back to me.

Hey, brother, you get back to me.

Anyone as aggressive as you are can take care of dinner reservations. That'll teach you to bust my balls. And it better be a nice place.

What ever happened to take-charge guys?

They both laughed and said goodbye. Amanda was still beaming when Frank rapped on her doorjamb.

There's a Cheshire cat grin, he said. Good news, I take it?

Amanda blushed. It could be worse.

Well, I've got good news of my own. Art Prochaska is willing to meet with us.

When?

Now. Grab your coat.

The night that Berkeley won the PAC-10 swimming championships Amanda went carousing with her teammates. One of the bars they hit was a male strip joint. Amanda had cheered and hooted with her friends, but secretly she' d been embarrassed. She felt even more uncomfortable when she entered the Jungle Club with Frank. Onstage, a woman with unnaturally large breasts danced unenthusiastically to a blaring ZZ Top tune. Amanda averted her eyes and followed Frank past the bar to a short hall at the end of which was an office. A man with a bull neck and massive shoulders stood outside the door.

We're here to see Mr. Prochaska, Frank told him.

He's expecting you.

Art Prochaska was squeezed behind a desk at one end of the narrow room. He had put on weight since the motion to suppress, but he was no less intimidating. Prochaska's tailored suit gave him an air of quasi-respectability. He and Frank shook hands across the desk.

It's been a while, Art.

A coupla years.

This is my daughter, Amanda. Amanda's hand disappeared in the gangster's massive paw. You may remember her. She assisted me during the motion in Cedar City.

Nice to meetcha, Prochaska said. Then he returned his attention to Frank. Martin said you wanted to talk.

And I appreciate the quick response.

I ain't sure I can help, but I'll try. What can I do for you?

I' d like to know what happened at the cabin in Milton County four years ago, Amanda said.

Prochaska looked surprised that Amanda had asked a question. When he answered, he turned away from her and spoke to Frank.

I was never there. I was playing cards that night. I had five witnesses.

Amanda wanted to disabuse Prochaska quickly of the idea that she was Frank's secretary.

I' m sure they were wonderful witnesses, Mr. Prochaska, she said firmly, but I was at the cabin, too, and I saw you drive away just as I arrived.

Prochaska turned his attention back to Amanda. She met his stare and held it.

You're mistaken.

Probably, if you have five witnesses, Amanda answered with a smile that said that she wasn't buying his bullshit. But let's say, for the sake of argument, that I wasn' t. Why would you have been at the cabin at that time of night?

What would it matter?

I' m representing Vincent Cardoni's ex-wife, Justine Castle. She's been charged with committing several murders at a farmhouse in Multnomah County. There's a makeshift operating room in the basement of the farmhouse. Other victims were found buried in a graveyard on the farm.

So?

The murder scene is almost identical to the scene of the crime in Milton County.

Why should I care?

It's possible that Vincent Cardoni cut off his own hand four years ago to make everyone think he' d been murdered. If Cardoni was trying to convince everyone that he was dead, it would be convenient for me to see you leaving the cabin just before I discovered his hand.

Prochaska stared at them like a gangster Buddha.

I' m not interested in getting you in trouble, Mr. Prochaska. In fact, it's my understanding that Martin Breach would be very interested if Cardoni is alive. You should be too if Cardoni tried to set you up.

Prochaska mulled over Amanda's information.

Anything you tell us will go no further, Art, Frank assured him.

When Prochaska spoke, he directed his remarks at Amanda.

I was never at that cabin, understand?

Amanda nodded.

Prochaska leaned forward and spoke so softly that it was almost impossible to hear him over the club's loud music.

Martin did some business with a doctor at St. Francis. This doctor stiffed Martin for a lot of money, and he wanted it back. Then the doctor turned up as one of the corpses the cops found at that cabin, but the money didn't show up. Martin thought Cardoni had it.

Prochaska waited to see if Amanda was following him. When Amanda nodded, he continued.

The night you found that hand, outa the blue Cardoni calls and says he wants a truce. He's got the dough at the cabin. Martin should send someone up. Martin sent me. As soon as I saw the hand I knew it was a setup. I got in the car and left. That's all there is to it.

You didn't find the money? Amanda asked.

If Cardoni set me up, there wouldn't be no money, would there?

Prochaska was on the phone as soon as his visitors closed the door behind them.

Guess what, Martin? Vincent Cardoni might not be dead.

That's why Jaffe wanted to see you?

He's representing Cardoni's ex-wife. He told Breach about the meeting with the Jaffes.

Son of a bitch, Breach said when Prochaska was through. If Cardoni's back in Portland, I want him found before the cops get him.

Chapter 49

Andrew Volkov moved his cleaning cart against the wall to make way for two internists. They were deep in conversation and didn't even glance at the invisible man in the gray custodian's uniform. When they passed, Volkov moved his cart forward. As he did so, he noticed another doctor watching him from the end of the hall. He ducked his head and the doctor averted his eyes, but it was obvious that Volkov had been the object of his attention.

The physician walked toward Volkov, who turned his cart and pushed it in the opposite direction. A hall led off to the right and he entered it. Halfway down the corridor was the entrance to a stairwell that led to the basement. He left his cart next to it, waited several beats before opening the door, then pushed it wide so that it would take time to close. If the doctor was following him, the door would bait him. If he missed it swinging shut the cart would provide a clue to where he' d gone that only an idiot would miss.

Volkov moved down the stairs slowly, pausing at each landing until he heard the hall door open. He had been right. He was being followed. He waited a moment, then continued to descend the stairs, making certain to step heavily enough so that his footsteps created echoes in the stairwell. When he reached the basement, Volkov opened the door and let it slam shut. In front of him was a narrow hallway made narrower by the exposed steam pipes that were attached to the walls. Low-wattage bulbs, spaced far apart, kept most of the corridor in shadow. The air was damp and cool. Volkov moved down the corridor at a steady pace until he was almost at a side hall that led to the boiler room. He paused until he heard the basement door open before turning into the side passage and pressing against the wall. Volkov heard footsteps drawing closer. They stopped at the entrance to the hallway. Then the doctor stepped around the corner.

Why are you following me? Volkov asked.

The doctor's eyes widened with fright. He pulled a scalpel out of his pocket and lunged. Volkov blocked the thrust and lashed out with a front kick. The doctor leaped back, and the janitor's toe only grazed him. Volkov's body flowed forward behind the kick. His fist caught the doctor's shoulder, slamming him against the concrete wall on the other side of the hallway. Volkov's next kick should have shattered his foe's kneecap, but he was surprised when his attacker moved into him, nullifying its power.

Volkov felt a sharp pain in his side and realized that he' d been stabbed. The doctor lashed out again, and the scalpel ripped through Volkov's shirt, slicing through skin. Volkov grunted, slashed upward with an elbow and saw blood gush from a broken nose. The doctor struck out blindly and stabbed Volkov in the cheek. The janitor unleashed a kick that connected solidly, driving the doctor backward until he lost his balance and fell to the floor.

Andy?

Arthur West, another janitor, was standing at the far end of the corridor.

What's going on? West shouted.

The doctor still held the scalpel and was struggling to his feet. Volkov hesitated. West started walking toward him. Volkov kicked the doctor again and ran toward the exit door at the end of the hallway. He tore it open and fled across the street to the employee parking lot.

Chapter 50

Amanda walked from the Stockman Building toward the river for several blocks and found Vasquez waiting for her in a booth at the back of O' Brien's Clam Bar.

What's up? Vasquez asked

Amanda handed him the list of employees that Tony had faxed to her.

A friend of mine is a doctor at St. Francis. I told him a little about our case. He thinks that there's a good possibility that the person who planted the scalpel, clothing and coffee mug at the farmhouse works at St. Francis, since all of the evidence came from the hospital. This is a list of men who have been hired at St. Francis during the past two years. I want you to check them out.

I'll get right on it.

Great.

A waitress arrived, and Amanda ordered fried clams and an iced tea. Bobby asked for a BLT and coffee.

Now I have something for you, he said as soon as the waitress left. I've been trying to find similar killing grounds in the United States and abroad. I went on the Web initially and found newspaper and periodical stories about serial murders that were like our cases. The reporters who wrote the stories gave me more information about each case and the names of the detectives who worked them. Most of the cops talked to me. They' d sent their case information to the FBI's National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crimes for investigation by the Investigative Support Unit and VICAP, the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program.

The waitress brought their drinks and Bobby continued.

I know a former FBI agent who owes me a favor. He talked to some friends at the Bureau and got me more details on the domestic cases. With the international cases it was harder, but I know someone at the Interpol office in Salem. She was able to get me information on the foreign cases.

Vasquez handed Amanda a multipage document. This is my preliminary list. I've found murders that are similar to ours in Washington, Colorado, Florida, New Jersey, Canada, Belgium, Japan, Peru, and Mexico. And it turns out that there was another case right here in Oregon, he concluded, pointing to the synopsis, which explained that fourteen years ago two young women had been found buried in the forest near Ghost Lake, a ski resort in the Cascades.

Something about the entry bothered Amanda, but her cell phone rang before she could figure out what it was. She took the phone out of her purse and answered it.

Is something wrong? Vasquez asked when she hung up.

My friend at St. Francis, the one who got me the list, has been attacked. I have to go to the hospital.

Amanda rushed through Emergency until she found Tony slouched in a chair in an examining room. He had black-and-purple bruises under both eyes and a bandaged nose. There was dried blood on his shirt, which was open, revealing ribs wrapped with tape. Amanda stopped in the doorway, shocked by his appearance. Tony stood up when he saw her. The effort made him grimace. Amanda's eyes widened with concern.

How badly are you hurt?

Don't worry. Nothing's broken that can't be fixed.

What happened?

I was on my way to see a patient when I noticed a janitor named Andrew Volkov standing next to a cleaning cart. He's one of the employees on my list. Volkov saw me watching him and got flustered. I followed him into the basement, which was pretty stupid. If I had any brains, I would have realized that he was luring me downstairs. He jumped me and was beating the crap out of me when another janitor came along and scared him off.

Is Volkov Cardoni?

I couldn't honestly say. The body type is right, but I was too busy defending myself to get a good look at him.

Amanda thought for a moment. Then she took out her cell phone.

I' m going to call Sean McCarthy. He can arrest Volkov for assault and take his prints. We'll know pretty soon if he's Cardoni.

Chapter 51

It had been three days since the crime lab had matched the prints on Andrew Volkov's custodian's cart to the prints taken four years before from Vincent Cardoni's left hand. Prints found in Volkov's apartment also matched the doctor' s. A thorough search of Volkov's locker at the hospital and his apartment provided no clue to Cardoni's whereabouts.

Mike Greene was trying to distract himself while he waited for an update on the case by analyzing a chess game played between Judit Polgar and Viswanathan Anand in a recent tournament in Madrid. He was studying the pivotal position in the game when the phone rang. Greene swiveled his chair and picked up the receiver.

This is Mike Greene.

Hi, Mike. This is Roy Bishop.

Bishop was an overbearing criminal defense attorney who was strongly suspected of being a little too friendly with some of the people he represented.

What's up, Roy?

I' m calling on behalf of a client, someone I know you want to talk to. He wants to meet with you.

Who are we talking about?

Vincent Cardoni.

Greene sat up straight.

If you know where Cardoni is, you better tell me. Harboring a fugitive will get your ticket yanked.

Ease up, Mike. I've only talked to Cardoni on the phone. I have no idea where he is.

Does he want to turn himself in?

Absolutely not. He made it very clear that he won't meet with you unless he gets a guarantee in writing that he will not be arrested if he shows up and that nothing he says will be used against him.

That's impossible. The man is a mass murderer.

He says that he's not. But even if he is, from what he tells me, you don't have grounds to hold him.

Mike Greene looked pale and drawn when Alex DeVore and Sean McCarthy entered his office at ten the next morning.

Vincent Cardoni will be here in half an hour, Greene announced. He sounded exhausted.

DeVore looked stunned. McCarthy said, He's turning himself in?

Greene shook his head. He's coming here to talk. I had to guarantee that we would not take him into custody.

Are you nuts? DeVore exclaimed.

You're joking! McCarthy said simultaneously.

I was here until ten last night and I was back here at seven this morning hashing this out with Jack, Henry Buchanan and Lillian Po, Greene answered, naming the district attorney for Multnomah County, his chief criminal deputy, and the head of the appellate section. There's no way we can hold him.

He killed four people at the farmhouse, McCarthy said.

He changed his features and lied to get a job at St. Francis so he could steal the coffee mug, the scalpel and the clothes, DeVore argued. He killed all those people in Milton County.

It won't wash. Cardoni had access to the items we found at the farmhouse, but there is no way we can prove that he stole them and planted them there. There isn't a single piece of evidence connecting Cardoni to the farmhouse or any of the victims. Believe me, guys, we went round and round on this. I' m as frustrated as you are.

What about Milton County? He's still under indictment there, McCarthy said.

Mike looked grim.

There was a massive screwup in the Milton County case, an unbelievable screwup. The judge signed an order granting Cardoni's motion to suppress, which he filed in the clerk's office. Fred Scofield had thirty days to appeal the order if he didn't want it to become final. During the thirty days, Cardoni disappeared and his hand was found in the cabin. Everyone thought that he was dead, and Scofield forgot to file the appeal. That means that Judge Brody's order is final and no evidence seized from the cabin or Cardoni's home in Portland can be used at a trial. Without that evidence, there is no Milton County case.

I don't believe this, McCarthy said. You're telling me there's no way to put Cardoni in jail? He's killed at least a dozen people.

Unless you've got proof that's admissible in court, that's just speculation. I can't arrest a man on a hunch.

Damn it, there's got to be a way, McCarthy muttered to himself. Suddenly he brightened. Fiori! Cardoni attacked Dr. Fiori. We can hold him for assault.

I' m afraid not. Cardoni says Fiori was stalking him. Fiori admits he followed Cardoni into the basement with a scalpel and made the first aggressive move. Cardoni's claiming self-defense.

Look, guys, we went through these arguments a million times. It always comes out the same way. There isn't a person in this office who doesn't believe that Vincent Cardoni is a homicidal monster, but the sad truth is that there isn't enough evidence to hold him. We've already faxed Bishop our written assurance that we won't arrest Cardoni within twenty-four hours of this meeting.

If he knows you don't have the evidence to arrest him, why does Cardoni want to meet with you? DeVore asked.

Before he could answer, the intercom buzzed and the receptionist announced that Dr. Cardoni and Roy Bishop were in the waiting area. Greene told her to show them to the conference room. Then he turned to DeVore.

You can ask him yourself.

Vincent Cardoni took a seat opposite Mike Greene at the long table in the conference room. A row of stitches crossed Cardoni's cheek. Roy Bishop, a large man with styled brown hair, sat next to his client. Sean McCarthy studied the surgeon carefully. It was hard to believe that this was the man he had arrested four years before.

Good morning, Dr. Cardoni, McCarthy said.

I see you're still as polite as you were when you arrested me.

Except for growing a little grayer, I haven't changed. But you certainly have.

Cardoni smiled.

Why don't we get down to business, Roy? Greene said. I' m dying to know why your client wants to talk to me.

It's a mystery to me, too, Mike. Dr. Cardoni has not confided his reasons to me.

I hope you're planning to confess, Doctor, Greene said. It'll save us a lot of trouble.

There isn't a thing for me to confess. Contrary to what you believe, I never murdered anyone. Justine killed the people at the farmhouse, and she's responsible for the victims in Milton County.

Who's responsible for cutting off your hand? McCarthy asked.

Cardoni held up his right hand and slid down his cuff. Everyone in the room stared at the jagged scar encircling his wrist.

I did this, Cardoni told McCarthy.

Plastic surgery, a false identity and self-mutilation? That's pretty extreme behavior for an innocent man.

I was desperate. I couldn't see any other way to stay alive.

Want to explain that to us? Greene prompted. Cardoni looked at the DA and the two detectives.

I can tell that you don't believe me, but I swear I' m telling the truth. Justine was Clifford Grant's partner in a black-market organ scheme. She killed him, then set me up so that Martin Breach would think I was the one who ripped him off.

Cardoni took a deep breath. He looked down at the conference table when he spoke.

You've seen Justine. She's beautiful and brilliant, and she was always two steps ahead of me. Justine knew every one of my weaknesses.

Look, I know I' m no saint. The pressure in medical school was too intense for me. I used all sorts of pharmaceuticals to cope with it, and they almost destroyed me. Fighting my addiction was exhausting, and it was easy to give in when Justine brought me cocaine. I didn't even realize that she was trying to break me down until it was too late.

I also didn't know why she saw so much of Clifford Grant until Frank Jaffe told me that Grant was harvesting organs for Martin Breach. He told me about the raid at the airfield. Justine was Grant's silent partner. She framed me to make Breach think I was. Shortly after Frank got me out of jail two of Breach's men attacked me. I was able to get the better of them, and I made one of them tell me why I was attacked. This was the same day I learned that the Milton County DA was trying to reopen the motion to suppress and that there was a good chance I would have to go back to jail. I was strung out on coke, and I figured I was either going to be tortured to death by Martin Breach or end up on death row. My only way out was to convince everyone that I was dead.

So you chopped off your hand, McCarthy said.

Cardoni fixed on McCarthy. He seemed exasperated.

Imagine you're accused of a crime you didn't commit. The state of Oregon wants to give you a lethal injection, and a vicious criminal doesn't think that would be a violent enough death. Don't you think you might take desperate measures to save your life?

I've got too many real-life problems on my plate to worry about hypothetical ones, Doctor. Maybe you can give me the answer to one of them. Did you steal a coffee mug and a scalpel with Dr. Castle's fingerprints on them and plant them at the farmhouse to implicate her?

Haven't you been listening to what I said? She's insane. She's a mass murderer. You've got her now. I' m begging you, don't let her get away with this.

Dr. Cardoni, Greene said, I agreed to this meeting in the hopes that you would surrender yourself or at least admit your guilt. Instead you've told us a story that you can't support with one shred of evidence.

Cardoni's head dropped into his hands. Greene continued.

I'll be frank with you. I don't believe a word you've said. I think you framed Dr. Castle for your own bizarre reasons and set up this meeting in the hopes that you could manipulate me into furthering your plan to send an innocent woman to death row. It's not going to work.

If you let Justine out, she'll kill again. She is the most dangerous murderer you've ever dealt with. You've got to believe me.

Well, I don' t. Unless you want to surrender or confess, this meeting is over.

Chapter 52

The guard let Justine Castle into the interview room at the jail. She looked at Amanda expectantly. Amanda waited a beat, then smiled.

I've got great news. We're holding another release hearing this afternoon. The DA's recommending your release.

I'll get out of here? Justine said in disbelief.

By tonight.

Justine sat down heavily. After a moment she reached across the small table and gripped one of Amanda's hands.

Thank you, thank you. You have no idea what it's meant to have you as my attorney. I don't think I could have made it through this ordeal without you.

The warmth and intensity of Justine's response caught Amanda by surprise and made her heart swell with pride. She covered Justine's hands and squeezed them.

You've been incredibly brave, Justine. I think we've turned the corner on this case. With luck, it will be behind you very soon.

Justine was about to say something else when her features changed from relief and happiness to concern. She released Amanda's hands.

Why are they letting me go? Justine asked abruptly. Have they arrested Vincent?

Amanda stopped smiling. No, but they've spoken to him. She related what Mike Greene had told her earlier in the day.

They just let him walk away? Justine asked incredulously.

They can't prosecute him, Justine. They don't have any evidence connecting him to the murders at the farmhouse.

What about the murders in Milton County?

All of the evidence from that case was suppressed.

This is bad, Justine muttered to herself. This is very bad.

You'll be okay, Justine.

Justine fixed Amanda with her eyes. A pulse was throbbing in Justine's temple, and her skin was so tight from tension that Amanda could imagine it ripping.

You don't understand the way Vincent's mind works. He's insane, he's relentless and he believes that he is infallible. No matter what the odds are against him, he'll come after me.

He won't try anything with everyone watching.

That's the worst part, Amanda. Vincent will bide his time before making his move. He waited four years to frame me. Now he'll disappear and wait until everyone has forgotten about him. I'll never be able to sleep, I'll never be able to lead a normal life.

Amanda wanted to comfort her client, but she knew that Justine was right. Cardoni was insane and he was patient, and that was a deadly combination.

I have an idea, Amanda said. Do you remember Robert Vasquez, the detective who searched the cabin in Milton County? He's a private detective now. He's been doing some work on this case for me. You might consider hiring him as a bodyguard. I could have him drive you home from the jail.

He's responsible for Vincent being free, and you want me to hire him?

Justine, Bobby Vasquez has been living with his guilt for four years. He's dedicated himself to getting Vincent. This wouldn't just be a job for him. You won't be able to find anyone who would be more committed to protecting you.

Amanda was getting ready to go to the courthouse for the hearing when Vasquez returned her call. Amanda told him about Cardoni. He sounded devastated.

Cardoni won't be able to control his impulse to kill. There'll be new victims if we don't do something.

Look, Bobby, I hired you to help on Justine's case. Our job was to clear her, and that's been accomplished.

Your job was to clear Justine. Mine is to get that motherfucker.

Don't even think like that. The last time you took the law into your own hands, you blew the State's case out of the water.

Amanda paused to let what she' d said sink in.

Bobby?

Yes?

Promise me you won't go after Cardoni on your own.

Don't worry, Vasquez said a little too quickly. Amanda was not reassured.

I had another reason for calling you. Justine is going to be released from jail this afternoon. She's worried that Cardoni will come after her. I think she's smart to worry, and I suggested that she hire you for protection.

As a bodyguard?

Right. Will you do it? It'll keep you in the case, and she's really scared.

With Cardoni out there, she's got a good reason to be.

Chapter 53

In order to develop expertise, the judges in Multnomah County were assigned to rotations where they heard particular types of cases for set periods of time. There were three judges who handled only homicide cases for one or two years, depending on the judge's preference. Justine Castle's case had been assigned to Mary Campbell, the judge who tried the Dooling case.

At four o' clock the parties met in Judge Campbell's chambers so Mike Greene could explain why the State was willing to release Justine Castle on her own recognizance, even though she was charged with four counts of aggravated murder. Justine, Amanda and Frank were present for the defense. The Multnomah County district attorney accompanied Mike Greene.

The grand jury had enough evidence to indict Dr. Castle, Judge Campbell said when Greene was through. That means that you were able to establish probable cause.

Yes, Your Honor. Our problem is that there is a very real possibility that Dr. Castle was set up by her ex-husband.

And there was no way to hold him?

No, Your Honor. Not at the present time.

This is very troubling. The idea of releasing the perpetrator of these crimes is repulsive to me, but it is equally repulsive to keep an innocent woman locked in jail. The judge stood up. Let's go into court and put this on the record. I' m going to grant release on Dr. Castle's recognizance. Keep your statement tight, Mr. Greene, but make certain that the press understands the basis for this motion. Ms. Jaffe, you may speak if you feel the need, but I'll ask you not to use my courtroom as a pulpit. You've already won.

Don't worry, Your Honor. I don't plan on making any statement in court.

Very well.

Amanda preceded Justine and her father into the courtroom. Someone had leaked news of the hearing, and every seat was taken. Amanda scanned the faces and saw several that were familiar. Vasquez had found a seat near the front. Amanda nodded to him moments before spotting Art Prochaska in the last row. Seated two rows in front of him was Dr. Carleton Swindell, the hospital administrator, whom Amanda had interviewed as a possible character witness. But the person who captured and held her attention was sitting beside his attorney in the front row, directly behind the defense table. When their eyes met, Vincent Cardoni smiled coldly. Amanda stopped short.

Cardoni shifted his attention to Justine. Amanda had described Cardoni's new look to her client, but Amanda could tell that seeing it in person was a shock. She started to comfort Justine but stopped when she saw that would not be necessary. Justine returned Cardoni's stare with a look of intense hatred. Frank saw what was happening and walked between Justine and Cardoni.

Good afternoon, Vincent, Frank said in a calm and measured tone.

I see you're representing a less desirable class of client these days, Cardoni responded.

I' m going to ask you to act like a gentleman. We're in a court of law, not a barroom.

Chivalry is usually reserved for the protection of ladies. Frank's features darkened. But I'll behave myself, out of respect for our friendship.

Thank you.

Frank took the seat beside Amanda, directly in front of Cardoni. This put Justine as far from her ex-husband as possible. Judge Campbell entered the courtroom. As soon as the judge was seated, Mike Greene moved to have Justine's release conditions changed. He gave the judge a severely abridged version of the reasons he had outlined in chambers for the reversal of the State's position on bail. Amanda found it hard to concentrate on what Mike was saying with Cardoni so close.

Judge Campbell made her ruling swiftly and left the bench. As soon as the judge was gone Justine turned slowly and walked to the rail, her face inches from Cardoni' s. Amanda had never seen a face so white with anger. When Justine spoke, her voice was barely audible, but Amanda thought she heard Justine say, This isn't over, Vincent.

Chapter 54

Reporters swarmed around Vincent Cardoni as soon as he left the courtroom. Roy Bishop cleared a path, chanting, No comment. The reporters kept shouting questions as Cardoni descended the marble stairs to the ground-floor lobby. A Town Car was waiting in front of the courthouse. Cardoni and his lawyer ducked inside and the driver took them to the Warwick, a small luxury hotel a few blocks from the Willamette River, where Cardoni had booked a suite. He had no plans to return to the cramped basement apartment he had lived in as Andrew Volkov now that his identity had been discovered.

A mobile van from one of the TV stations followed the Town Car, but the driver phoned ahead and hotel security blocked the reporters from entering the lobby. After a brief consultation, Bishop drove off in the Town Car, and Cardoni took the elevator to his rooms. As soon as he locked the door, he stripped off his clothes and showered under steaming hot water. After the shower, he put on a terry cloth robe and ordered room service. The restaurant at the Warwick was one of Portland's best. The meal was exquisite and the wine superb, but the food and drink could not dull the rage Cardoni felt. Justine would soon be back in his old house, luxuriating in the bath the way she had when they were married. She would be washing away the smell of jail and gloating because she was free and his plan had been thwarted.

By the time room service brought him a bottle of twelve-year-old single-malt scotch and cleared his trays, the sun had fallen below the horizon. Cardoni stood at the window, watching the lights of the city glitter and gleam. The sight soothed him and helped him to put his feelings of failure behind him. Negative thoughts had to be banished. Positive thinking was required if he was going to avenge the loss of his hand and his profession, and his years in exile.

Chapter 55

Bobby Vasquez was waiting when Justine Castle came out of the jail elevator. He was wearing a sports jacket, a clean blue Oxford shirt and pressed khakis. He had even shaved to make a good impression. Justine paused to study the private detective. He shifted nervously. Justine held out her hand.

You must be Mr. Vasquez. Her grip was firm, and her hand was cool to the touch.

Yes, ma' am, Vasquez answered, thinking that she was remarkably composed for someone who had spent several weeks in jail.

Is your car outside?

Vasquez nodded.

Then get me away from here. We can talk while you drive.

Vasquez owned a ten-year-old Ford. It usually looked like a garbage dump, but he had gotten rid of the empty chip bags, old socks and other refuse before driving to the jail. Justine Castle was classier than his usual clientele. She also made him a little nervous. He had seen her confrontation with Cardoni earlier in the day.

Do you know where I live? Justine asked when Vasquez drove away from the jail.

Yes, ma' am. I was at your place when we arrested Dr. Cardoni.

They rode in silence for a while. Vasquez glanced at Justine. She had closed her eyes and was savoring her first moments of freedom.

So, Mr. Vasquez, she said after a few moments of silence, tell me what you think of my ex-husband.

Didn't Miss Jaffe tell you?

I want to hear it from you, Justine said, turning so she could observe Vasquez when he answered.

I don't think he's human. I think he's some kind of mutant, a monster.

I see we share the same view of Vincent.

I can't think of many people who wouldn't think that way.

Will he try to kill me, Mr. Vasquez?

I think he has to kill, and he won't stop with you, Bobby answered without hesitation.

Will the police be able to stop him?

Honestly, no. He's going to disappear. Then he's going to surface someplace else. Sooner or later he'll buy another property and start his experiments again. I don't think he can stop himself. I don't think he wants to stop.

Then what can be done to stop him? Justine asked. There was a determined set to her jaw.

What do you mean? he asked, even though he was certain he knew.

We both hate Vincent, Mr. Vasquez, and neither one of us thinks the police are capable of dealing with him. I' m certain that he'll try to kill me. If not today or tomorrow, then someday when I least expect it.

Vasquez could feel Justine's eyes boring into him.

I do not want to live in fear.

What are you suggesting?

How badly do you want to stop Vincent, Mr. Vasquez? How far would you be willing to go?

Chapter 56

Vincent Cardoni slept through the night and awoke at nine. He wanted to take a run, but he didn't want to deal with the reporters who were certain to be lurking about, so he moved some furniture and worked up a sweat with calisthenics. After his workout, Cardoni showered, then ordered a light breakfast from room service. He tried reading the newspaper but found that he couldn't concentrate. Cardoni walked to the window. A tanker was passing under the Hawthorne Bridge on the way to Swan Island against the magnificent backdrop of Mt. Hood's snowy slopes. The scene should have brought him peace, but thoughts of Justine kept intruding.

The day passed slowly. By late afternoon Cardoni was thoroughly bored and still had no plan for dealing with his ex-wife. It was soon after the room service waiter cleared his dinner that he spotted the cheap white envelope someone had slipped under his door. The envelope bore no return address. His name was typed on the front. He sat on the sofa in the sitting room and opened it. Inside were two pieces of paper. The first was a map of I-5. A rest area several miles south of Portland was circled. 11:00 P.M. was typed on the map.

The second sheet was a photocopy of a journal entry.

Thursday: Subject is still combative after four days of applied pain, sleep deprivation and minimal food. 8:10: Subject bound and gagged and placed in upstairs closet at end of hall. Turned out lights in house, drove off, then parked and doubled back. Watched from woods. 8:55: Subject exits house, naked and barefoot, armed with kitchen knife. Remarkable strength of character. Breaking her will be a challenge. 9:00: Subject stunned by my sudden appearance, attacks with knife but Taser stops her. Subject in shock when told that bonds had been intentionally loosened to permit escape as test to see how fast she would get out compared to other subjects. Subject sobs as I put on the training hood and handcuffs. Will begin pain resistance experiments immediately to test whether crushing subject's expectation of escape has lowered her resistance.

Cardoni checked his watch. It was eight-forty-five. He read the journal entry one more time before going into his bedroom. DAs and cops said that Roy Bishop was a criminal lawyer in the truest sense of the phrase. One advantage of retaining Bishop was the attorney's willingness to render services that other, less pricey lawyers were unwilling to provide. Cardoni opened a small valise that Bishop had left for him and took out a handgun and a hunting knife.

Mike Greene answered his phone after the second ring.

Hey, Sean. I hope this is good news.

Would you consider it good news if I could prove that Vincent Cardoni phoned in the nine-one-one on the evening of Justine Castle's arrest and made the call that lured her to the farm? I was rereading the report of the first officer on the scene. There were no phones in the farmhouse, so I asked myself how Cardoni called Dr. Castle and phoned in the nine-one-one. Volkov owned a cell phone. His records show he placed calls to the emergency operator and Dr. Castle's apartment on the evening of Dr. Castle's arrest.

Great work, Sean!

Do we have enough for a warrant for Cardoni's arrest?

Meet me at Judge Campbell's house. Let's see what she thinks.

Vasquez knew a maid who worked at the Warwick. Her boyfriend delivered room service. For fifty bucks they were willing to call Vasquez on his cell phone when the doctor left his room. For fifty bucks more one of the garage attendants at the hotel let Vasquez park in a space a few slots down from Cardoni's car. At 9:10 the maid told him that Cardoni was on the move. Vasquez ducked down in his seat and waited. Moments later the surgeon emerged from the elevator and got into his car. He was dressed in jeans, a black turtleneck and a dark windbreaker.

Vasquez had no trouble following Cardoni onto I-5 south. There wasn't much traffic, so he kept a car or two between him and his quarry. When Cardoni turned off at a rest area Vasquez followed him. Cardoni parked near the concrete rest room. The only other vehicle in the rest area was a semi hauling a load of produce. It was parked near the rest room. As he passed by, Vasquez saw that the cab of the truck was empty.

Vasquez parked at the far end of the lot and turned off his engine. Moments later the trucker walked out of the men's room and drove off. Cardoni left his car and entered the rest room. Fifteen minutes later he had not reappeared.

Vasquez got out of his car and moved through the picnic area toward the rest room, using the trees as cover. He circled behind the concrete building and paused to listen. He was about to move again when he heard the sound of someone struggling. Vasquez edged along the side of the building and chanced a quick look around the corner. Something was huddled in the shadows under a bench. It looked like a body. Vasquez was certain that it had not been there when he drove into the lot. He was debating whether to check out the body or wait in the shadows when he heard a noise behind him.

Chapter 57

Amanda was working on a discovery motion when the intercom buzzed.

Mary Ann Jager is on line one, the receptionist said.

Amanda recognized the name of the attorney who had purchased the farm.

This is Amanda Jaffe. How can I help you?

I, uh, I' m not sure if I' m calling the right person. Jager sounded nervous. You represent Justine Castle, right?

Yes.

Is Robert Vasquez working for you?

Yes.

He, uh, he visited my office recently and wanted to know about some property. It's the place where all those people were murdered. I read that Castle was charged with the murders and that you're her lawyer. I can't get in touch with him, so I decided to call you.

About what?

There was someone else who came around asking about the property. Mr. Vasquez showed me a picture but it wasn't him. He, uh, he said there was some money in it if I could tell him who it was. Are you still interested?

Yes.

I never told anyone but Mr. Vasquez about this man, not even the cops, so you'll be the only one who knows.

Who was it?

Vasquez said that he would pay me for that information.

How much did he say he' d give you?

Why don't you come to my office with three hundred dollars? I' m just a few blocks away.

Amanda knocked on Frank's doorjamb.

Got a second? she asked when Frank looked up from his work.

Sure. What's up?

I just visited Mary Ann Jager, the attorney who bought the farm where the bodies in the Castle case were found. When Bobby Vasquez interviewed her, she told him that someone else had asked about the property shortly before he did. Bobby showed her an old picture of Cardoni, but she couldn't identify him. Last night she saw the man on the evening news in a story about Justine's case. When she couldn't get in touch with Vasquez, she called me.

So who is it?

Cardoni.

I thought you said

The picture Vasquez showed her was taken before he had plastic surgery.

Frank's brow furrowed. That makes no sense. Why would Cardoni expose himself to Jager if he already owned the farm?

He wouldn' t.

You're saying ... ?

There are some loose ends in Cardoni's case that always bothered me. For instance, who made the first anonymous call to Vasquez?

Martin Breach. Justine. Frank shrugged. It could have been anyone Cardoni pissed off.

It couldn't have been Breach, Amanda said. Why would he want Cardoni in police custody, where he could cut a deal to testify against him? Breach would be more likely to put out a contract on him.

You're probably right, Frank answered thoughtfully. And the caller couldn't have been Justine.

Why?

She didn't know about the mountain cabin. Cardoni bought that in secret.

The police were never able to prove that Cardoni owned the cabin. What if he didn' t? What if Justine did?

You think Justine is responsible for the murders in Milton County?

That's what Cardoni always claimed.

Frank drew into himself for a moment. Then he shook his head.

It doesn't work. Even if Justine knew about the cabin, how did she know about Martin Breach? The caller said that Cardoni bought his cocaine from Breach.

In any event, you shouldn't be trying to prove Justine Castle is a murderer. First off, that's a job for the police. Then there's the little fact that Dr. Castle is our client. Even if you had the proof you needed, most of it, like the information you just learned from Jager, is privileged either as an attorney-client confidence or work product. Besides, you're sniffing up a false trail. I don't have any doubts that Cardoni is guilty.

How can you be so certain?

You remember the coffee mug with Cardoni's prints that the police found in the cabin in Milton County?

Amanda nodded.

The fact that Cardoni's fingerprints were found on the mug was never made public.

It wasn' t?

No. The police always hold something back to weed out false confessions. I became suspicious when a coffee mug was found at the farmhouse with Justine's prints on it. The public didn't know about the coffee mug, but Cardoni did.

How do you know?

I told him his prints had been found on the mug when I was representing him. Only someone who knew about the coffee mug from the Milton County case would go to the trouble of stealing Justine's mug from the hospital and planting it at the farmhouse.

If it was planted. What if Justine brought the mug with her and drank coffee while she worked?

Frank's smug look disappeared. That's a chilling thought.

It dawned on Amanda that another of Frank's conclusions could be wrong as well. He had said that Justine could not have made the anonymous call to Vasquez, because the caller knew about Martin Breach and Justine did not. But Justine would know a great deal about Breach if she was Clifford Grant's partner in the black market organ scheme.

Amanda was about to explain this to her father when the intercom buzzed and the receptionist announced that Sean McCarthy was in the waiting room and needed to talk to Amanda. Frank told her to show McCarthy to his office. The detective looked paler than usual and he moved slowly.

Good afternoon, Frank, Miss Jaffe, the detective said.

Good afternoon, Sean, Frank answered. You look like you can use some coffee. Can I get you some?

I' d appreciate it. I haven't been to bed and I' m running on fumes.

Frank buzzed his secretary and asked her to bring a cup of coffee for McCarthy while the detective settled into a chair.

So, what brings you here? Frank asked.

Bobby Vasquez. McCarthy looked at Amanda. A trucker found him in a rest area on the interstate. He's at the county hospital.

Amanda paled.

What happened? Frank asked.

He was knocked unconscious. The blow to the head was pretty severe. His condition is serious.

Amanda felt dead inside. Did Cardoni ... Was he the one who ... ?

We think so, McCarthy answered. We went to his hotel room to talk to him. He wasn't there, but we found a map in his trash with the rest area circled and a journal excerpt that's similar to the accounts in the journal we found at the farmhouse. We also found your business card in Vasquez's wallet. I thought you might be able to tell me what Bobby was doing in the rest area.

Amanda was about to tell McCarthy that Vasquez was working as Justine's bodyguard, but she stopped herself. Why was Vasquez in the rest area when he was supposed to be guarding Justine? Had Justine sent Vasquez to kill Cardoni? Amanda had no proof that Justine had done anything wrong, and she remembered what Frank had said about her duty to her client.

Mr. Vasquez was working with me on Dr. Castle's case, but I don't know why he was at the rest area, Amanda told the detective. Will Bobby be okay?

When I left the hospital, the doctors didn't know.

Amanda felt terrible.

Are you going to arrest Cardoni? Frank asked.

We're looking for him. Until we find him, you two should keep your eyes open. We have no reason to believe that Cardoni will go after you, but we're concerned for the safety of anyone connected to him.

Amanda normally dealt with stress by exercising, but she did not have the energy for a workout. Going home was out of the question, because she could not handle being alone. She hesitated a moment, then picked up the phone and called Tony Fiori at the hospital.

How are you feeling? she asked.

Like Sly Stallone at the end of Rocky.

Should you be working?

Hey, if Sly could go fifteen rounds with the champ and not quit, I can't let a couple of cracked ribs stop me. What's up?

Bobby Vasquez was working with me on the case. Now he's in the hospital. The police think that Cardoni did it.

Oh, shit. How bad is he?

I don't know, but I feel awful.

Do you need someone to talk to?

Yeah, Tony, I do.

I get off in an hour. Why don't you drive to my place? I'll meet you there.

That would be great.

See you in a few hours.

Tony gave Amanda directions to the house he' d purchased when he moved back to Portland. It was in the country, south of the city, several miles east of the interstate on two acres of secluded woodland. Amanda found the curving country lane that led to it. As soon as she got out of her car Tony put his arms around her. They held each other for a moment, then Tony pulled back so he could see Amanda's face.

You okay? he asked.

Amanda nodded somberly. Better now. Thanks.

Rain started to fall, and they hurried inside a modern log cabin with a huge stone fireplace and a high, peaked roof crossed by massive raw beams. No walls separated a large living room from a modern kitchen. On either side of a short hall were an office, a bathroom and the stairs to the basement. A wide stairway led to a sleeping loft that overlooked the first floor.

Logs were stacked in the fireplace, and there was a pile of old newspaper in a wicker basket next to the hearth. Tony used the paper to start a blaze. Amanda listened to the patter of the rain on the roof and the crackle of the flames. The heat from the fire soon took the chill from the room.

Can I fix you a drink? he asked when the fire was going. You look like it might help.

I don't want a drink. She sounded dragged out.

Tell me what happened.

Bobby Vasquez asked me if he could work on Justine's case. My father didn't trust him, but I did, so I argued with Dad until he gave in and let me hire Bobby. Amanda sounded like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. When Justine was released from jail I got Vasquez a job as her bodyguard. Now he's badly hurt and I ... I don't know, it feels like my fault somehow.

Tony sat beside Amanda and took her in his arms.

It's not, you know. Vasquez is an adult. You just told me that he wanted to work on the case.

Amanda pressed against him, feeling safe and comforted.

I know you're right. It just doesn't make me feel any better. What if he dies?

Tony stroked Amanda's hair and kissed her forehead. It was the right thing to do. Amanda wanted to forget Cardoni, Justine Castle and the terrible thing that had happened to Bobby Vasquez. She tilted her face up and their lips met.

Whatever happens to him, it won't be your fault, he whispered.

That was the right thing to say. Amanda grabbed Tony and kissed him hard. He kissed back just as passionately as they sank onto the white shag rug in front of the fireplace. Tony winced. Amanda drew back, alarmed. She had forgotten Tony's injuries.

Did I hurt you?

A little, he answered with a laugh. Can you do this gently?

Amanda placed a hand on Tony's chest. Lie back.

Tony lowered himself onto the rug as Amanda stripped off her clothes. Tony reached out and played with her nipples while she tried to undo the buttons on his shirt. The touch of his fingers made it hard to concentrate, and she fumbled a few times. Then she gave up altogether. Tony pulled her to his side. He stroked her thigh with a feathery touch, working his way upward until he slipped his fingers inside her. Amanda closed her eyes and lost herself in Tony's touch. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and each stroke made her quiver or flex. Amanda's senses were soon jumbled. Her breath came in gasps, and her body moved involuntarily. When she came the first time she squeezed Tony's fingers tight to keep them in her, straining for more. After a while her legs relaxed and Tony slipped his hand out. She opened her eyes. It took a few seconds to focus. He was watching her, still fully clothed. Her breathing was ragged. Tony smiled.

You've got strong legs. He shook his fingers slowly. These might be broken. I' m not sure I can finish unbuttoning my shirt.

Amanda flushed.

Think maybe you can do the job this time? he asked.

Amanda nodded, still too wasted to speak. Tony lay down beside her and she started undressing him. As she worked he played with her body. By the time they were both naked, she had no idea where she was.

Amanda lay in Tony's arms. She could feel the heat from the fire on her back. The rain beat a tattoo on the roof.

Maybe it would be a good idea if you stayed here for a while, Tony said. I don't like the idea of you being alone with Cardoni on the loose.

I don't think he'll go after me. Why would he?

Why did he go after any of the people he killed? Cardoni doesn't think logically.

Amanda remembered the way Cardoni had stared at her at the release hearing. She also remembered McCarthy's warning.

Hey, it's not like going to prison, Tony said. I make much better meals than they serve in the joint.

Amanda smiled. Okay, I' m sold.

Speaking of food, I' m starving. There's a shower upstairs and a warm-up suit in the closet that you can slip on. While you're showering I'll whip up some dinner.

It occurred to Amanda that she had not eaten for hours. Tony grabbed his jeans and shirt and limped toward the downstairs bathroom to wash up. Amanda picked up her crumpled clothes from the floor and climbed the stairs to the loft. A king-size bed sat beneath high windows. Amanda straightened her clothes as best she could and folded them over a chair. A blue warm-up suit was hanging in Tony's closet.

Amanda turned on the light in the bathroom. Tony had a large shower stall with multiple shower heads, and a Jacuzzi. Amanda set down the suit on the tiled counter next to the sink and turned on the shower. She watched the rain spatter on the skylight for a moment before stepping into the shower stall. It was chilly in the bathroom, and the cascade of hot water felt wonderful. Amanda closed her eyes, tilted her head back and let it run over her, trying to lose herself in the pulsating spray. But she couldn' t. The Castle case kept intruding on her thoughts.

For all intents and purposes, her involvement in Justine's case was over. Justine was out of jail and the charges against her would soon be dismissed. She should feel triumphant, but she didn' t. And the case wasn't really over. Cardoni was somewhere in the night, and Bobby Vasquez, his latest victim, was suffering in a hospital while Justine Castle lived in fear. The ending was unsatisfactory, not at all like a work of fiction where all the loose ends were tied up with a well-constructed knot.

Chapter 58

In the morning Tony left for St. Francis and Amanda returned to her apartment to dress for work and pack some clothes to take to Tony's at the end of the day. Amanda called the county hospital, only to find that the doctors weren't letting Vasquez have visitors. Then she tried Justine to find out why Vasquez was following Cardoni instead of guarding her. She got the machine and left a message asking Justine to call.

Tony phoned Amanda shortly before noon and told her to come by at nine. By the time she pulled into Tony's driveway, she was ravenous. The aroma of simmering tomatoes, herbs and spices assaulted Amanda as soon as she walked through the front door. Tony was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt spotted with tomato sauce.

Let me at the food, I' m starving, Amanda said, slipping an arm around his waist.

You're going to have to show maturity and self-control. I just beat you home.

Do you have any tree bark I can chew on?

No, Tony replied with a laugh, but there's a loaf of olive bread sitting on the counter next to a great bottle of Chianti. If you want white, there's a bottle of Orvieto chilling in the fridge. Now, give me your bag.

Tony took Amanda's valise from her and carried it up to the loft. Amanda shucked her coat and wandered across the living room to the kitchen. A cast-iron pot filled with tomato sauce was bubbling on the stove next to a larger pot of boiling water. A fire crackled in the hearth. Amanda poured a glass of Chianti, cut a slice of bread and wandered over to the couch. She remembered curling up with Tony after dinner on their first date, four years ago. That had been a great evening, an evening she had replayed in her mind many times.

What are you daydreaming about? Tony asked as he came down the stairs from the loft.

How nice it is to be with you.

Tony smiled warmly. Me too.

A timer bell went off in the kitchen. He groaned. Duty calls.

Ten minutes later the pasta was ready. When they were through with dinner, Amanda carried the dishes into the kitchen. Then they settled down in front of the fire.

Tell me about Justine Castle, Amanda asked abruptly.

Tony looked surprised. What do you want to know?

What's she like?

I don't know, really. I see her at the hospital, but we aren't intimate anymore, if that's what you're worried about.

I' m not jealous. I just want to get a handle on her.

And you haven't while you've been representing her?

She's very controlled most of the time. And she lies, or at least she withholds information. What was she like when you were close to her?

You want to know what she was like when we were lovers? Tony sounded uncomfortable. Amanda nodded, flushing slightly because she was embarrassed to pry and worried that Tony would think that she was jealous.

I was only with Justine a few times. The sex was okay, but sometimes I wasn't sure if she knew I was there. And she was tough to talk to if we weren't talking shop. She's a brilliant surgeon, but she didn't seem to have any interests outside medicine. I don't know what else to say.

Do you think that Justine is capable of murder?

Tony paused and gave the question some thought.

I guess anyone is under the right circumstances, he answered finally.

I' m talking about something else. I' m talking about ... Cardoni always claimed that Justine was framing him, that she killed the people at the cabin.

Tony shook his head. I just can't see her as a serial killer.

Amanda wanted to tell Tony about the way Justine's first two husbands had died, but her duty to her client sealed her lips.

What makes you think that Cardoni isn't responsible for the killings? Tony asked.

I can't tell you very much. A lot of what I know is confidential.

Have you thought of a way to prove your suspicions?

Vasquez compiled a list of other serial murders with possible similar MOs. I can see if Justine lived in any of these places when the murders were committed.

I' m not a lawyer, but don't you have a duty to Justine? She's your client. Should you be investigating her?

No, I shouldn' t. Amanda sighed. It's just that I feel responsible for what happened to Vasquez and that I should do something.

Tony yawned. Well, I know what to do, he said. We should get to bed. I' m beat and I've got to get up at the crack of dawn.

Let me help you clean up.

Not necessary. Why don't you use the bathroom while I load the dishwasher? It'll only take me a minute.

Amanda walked over to Tony. He took her in his arms, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

It's nice being here.

He kissed her forehead. It's nice having you.

Tony patted her on the butt. Now let me clean up before I fall asleep.

Amanda gave him a quick kiss and went upstairs to the loft. She heard the disposal run as she started to enter the bathroom. It stopped. She opened her valise and took out her makeup case. She was headed for the bathroom when her cell phone rang. It was in her purse, and it took a moment to find it.

Hello?

Amanda?

Justine?

Amanda heard heavy breathing on the other end.

You have to come to my house, now. We have to talk. It's about Vincent. It's ... it's urgent.

Justine was speaking in gasps. She sounded very upset.

What do you

Please come right away.

Justine, I can't

The phone went dead. Downstairs the dishwasher started. Amanda leaned over the loft wall and yelled down to Tony.

What is it?

Justine just called me on my cell phone.

Tony walked to the bottom of the stairs, a damp dishrag dangling from his hand. Amanda repeated the phone call as she descended.

Should we call the police? she asked when she reached the bottom.

What would you tell them? Wouldn't she have called the cops if she was in danger?

She sounded so upset.

Tony thought for a moment. Let's drive over.

He walked to a drawer in the kitchen and took out a pistol. Amanda's eyes widened.

Do you know how to use that?

Oh, yeah, Tony said. The care and use of handguns is one of the things my father taught me. He was a gun nut. I never liked shooting, but now I' m glad I know how.

Justine's Dutch Colonial looked eerie and deserted. The limbs of the barren shade trees swayed in the chill night air like skeletal hands. There were no lights on in the downstairs rooms, but two of the upstairs dormer windows glowed pale yellow like cat's eyes.

Justine should be expecting us. Why is it dark downstairs?

I don't like this, Tony said as they climbed out of the car.

He rang the doorbell as Amanda glanced nervously over her shoulder and to either side. When Justine did not answer after the second ring, Tony tried the door.

It's locked.

The curtains on the front windows were drawn, but Amanda pointed out a small gap between the sill and the bottom of the curtain. Tony slipped through a row of boxwood hedges and squatted so that he could see into the front room. Amanda started to say something, but Tony put his finger to his lips and hurried back to her.

Go to the car and lock yourself in, he whispered urgently. Call nine-one-one. Justine is in there. She's tied to a chair.

Is she

Go now, he said, pushing her away from him. Ask for an ambulance. Go!

Tony disappeared around the side of the house. Amanda ducked behind the car and called 911 on her cell phone. The dispatcher took the information and told her that help was on the way. As soon as she hung up Amanda reached for the door handle, but she stopped when she realized that Tony had the ignition key. If she locked herself in, she would be trapped with no way to escape if Cardoni came for her.

Amanda hesitated for a moment, then followed the path that Tony had taken to the rear of Justine's house, crouching low and listening for any sound. Just as she reached the backyard Amanda heard a shot. She froze, terrified. A second, louder shot followed. Amanda edged along the side of the house until she was able to see through the windowpanes into a large, modern kitchen. Vincent Cardoni was sprawled against the wall next to the refrigerator. Tony stood over him, gun in hand. Amanda opened the door. There was a smell of gunpowder in the air. Tony swung the gun toward her, his eyes wide with panic.

It's me, Amanda yelled, thrusting her arms toward him, hands out.

Jesus! Tony lowered the gun. I told you to stay in the car.

I called nine-one-one, but I didn't want to stay alone.

I could have shot you.

Amanda remembered the first shot. Are you okay?

Tony nodded.

What happened?

He tried to kill me, Tony said, pointing to a head-high hole in the wall next to the back door. He was in the kitchen. He fired when I stepped through the door. Tony shook his head. He looked dazed. I shot him.

Amanda flipped on the kitchen light and knelt beside Cardoni. There was a gun lying near his hand, and blood was spreading across his shirt. Cardoni's eyes were closed, and his head lolled to one side. He was alive, but just barely. Tony took a handkerchief out of his pocket and picked up the gun. Amanda looked at him quizzically.

Cardoni's prints will be on the gun. I don't want the police thinking that I shot him in cold blood.

Amanda suddenly remembered the reason they' d driven to the house in the middle of the night. She took Tony's hand.

It's okay. It was self-defense. Now we've got to check on Justine.

Amanda pushed through the door that led to the living room. As she groped for a light switch she could see a figure silhouetted against the shaded window, and she could smell the rustlike scent of blood.

Amanda stopped searching for the light and crossed the room. When she drew closer, she saw that Justine's arms and legs were secured to a straight-back chair with thick strips of masking tape in a way that made the front of her naked body vulnerable to assault.

Justine, Amanda whispered in a trembling voice.

Justine's head was down and her chin rested on her chest. A lamp sat on an end table near the chair. As Amanda switched it on she noticed a blood-smeared hunting knife resting next to the base.

Weak yellow light illuminated the room. Amanda's back was to Justine, and it took all her courage to turn around. A sob caught in Amanda's throat, and her stomach clenched. She wanted to turn away, but she' d lost control of her body and could only stare with horror at what had once been a beautiful woman.

Tony knelt beside Justine and checked for a pulse. Then he turned to Amanda with sad eyes and shook his head.

Chapter 59

They waited in the kitchen for the ambulance and the patrol cars that were coming in response to Amanda's 911 call. While Tony watched Cardoni, Amanda phoned homicide. Sean McCarthy arrived soon after the ambulance and the first patrol car. While the medics were loading Cardoni onto a stretcher, McCarthy took the couple into the den where Amanda had watched the videotape of Mary Sandowski's torture four years before. The TV and VCR were still there. Amanda could not bring herself to look at them.

McCarthy could see that Amanda and Tony were emotionally drained and made arrangements to talk to them at the Justice Center. Amanda's father arrived soon after the police. Frank insisted that Amanda spend the night in her old room. He also offered to put up Tony for the night.

Amanda was in bed by three. For the first time since she was a little girl, she kept a light on. The horror of what she had seen and her guilt at suspecting Justine tormented her every time she shut her eyes. When she did drift into sleep she found herself in a pitch-black room. She tried to sit up, but her body was secured by leather restraints. As she struggled to get loose a door opened, admitting a bright, blinding light. When her eyes adjusted, Amanda saw that she was strapped to an operating table.

Who's there? she called, her heart beating faster.

A bare lightbulb dangled from the ceiling over Amanda's head. A face covered by a surgical mask suddenly moved between Amanda and the light. A cap covered the doctor's head. In one of his hands was a shiny scalpel, in the other a coffee mug.

I see our patient is awake, the surgeon said. Then the mug slipped from the doctor's fingers and fell in slow motion, spilling its contents. Blood, not coffee, flew through space. The mug smashed against the concrete floor and exploded into ceramic shards. Amanda lurched up in bed, her heart pounding. It took her half an hour to fall asleep again.

Amanda was up by seven-thirty, feeling ragged and bleary-eyed but unable to get back to sleep. Through the front windows she saw a crowd of reporters massing near the curb. Frank had taken the phone off the hook and asked McCarthy to send an officer to keep the mob off his lawn.

Tony was very subdued when he came downstairs. No one had much of an appetite. Frank had put up a pot of coffee, and the couple carried their mugs onto the back porch where the reporters could not see them. The shade trees in the backyard were denuded of leaves, and the gray weather had bleached the color out of the grass and hedges. It was cold and blustery, but it was not raining.

Couldn't sleep? Tony asked. Amanda shook her head.

Me either.

They were quiet for a moment.

Whenever I closed my eyes I saw myself shooting Cardoni. Tony shook his head as if to clear it of the image. I don't know why I feel bad. I mean, the guy was a monster and I stopped him. I should feel great, but I don' t.

Amanda laid a hand on his arm.

That's only natural, Tony. Cops who shoot criminals in the line of duty feel guilty even when they know they've done the right thing.

Tony stared straight ahead, nodding bravely.

He would have killed again. Amanda put her hand over his. Think of the lives you've saved.

Tony looked away.

Amanda grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look at her.

You're a hero, do you know that? Not everyone would have gone into Justine's house knowing that Cardoni might be inside.

Amanda, I

Amanda put her finger on his lips. She kissed him, then laid her head on Tony's chest.

Amanda, you don't still think that Justine killed all those people, do you?

No. I feel terrible for suspecting her.

Amanda remembered what Cardoni had done to Justine. She fought back tears. After a moment, she took a deep breath and pulled away from Tony.

We should get ready, she said, wiping her eyes. We have to go downtown and talk to Sean McCarthy.

McCarthy had instructed Frank to park under the Justice Center in the police garage so they could avoid the media. As soon as they arrived at the homicide bureau, Alex DeVore escorted Tony into one interrogation room and McCarthy escorted Amanda into another. McCarthy was kind and his questions were gentle. Three-quarters of an hour after he started, the detective told Amanda that he was done. As he opened the door for her, Mike Greene stepped into the room.

Can we have a minute? Greene asked.

Sure, I' m done. Thanks, Amanda, he said closing the door behind him.

Am I going to need an attorney? Amanda asked with a weary smile.

Yeah, I' d get the Dream Team on this, right away. He smiled. How you doin' ?

I' m okay.

You have no idea how horrible I felt when Sean told me what Cardoni did to Justine Castle.

Why should you feel responsible?

I' m the one who decided that we didn't have enough evidence to hold that lunatic.

Amanda's weary eyes softened. You didn't have a choice. You' d have been breaking the law if you' d done anything different.

The worst part is that we had enough evidence to arrest Cardoni. We just couldn't find the son of a bitch.

Mike told her about the cell phone bill that proved that Cardoni had phoned in the 911 and called Justine's house on the evening of Justine's arrest.

We were also following up on an idea Sean had four years ago but stopped pursuing after Cardoni disappeared. You know that Cardoni practiced at a hospital in Denver before he came to Portland?

Amanda nodded.

I just heard from the Colorado state police this morning. Two years ago they uncovered a killing ground similar to ours in a rural area about an hour outside of Denver. The bodies had been buried for some time. A Colorado lawyer, who has since been disbarred, purchased the property where the graves were found. He was contacted by an anonymous buyer through the mail and paid in cashier's checks.

Cardoni's MO.

Mike nodded.

I might have some extra ammo to use against Cardoni, Amanda said. You know that Bobby Vasquez is working for me, right?

Sean mentioned it.

He gave me gave me a preliminary list of serial murders that might have the same MO as Cardoni's killings. I'll get it to you in case he found something that your investigators missed.

Great, he answered distractedly. Listen, about Bobby ...

Have you gotten an update on his condition?

It's not good. The doctors don't know if he's going to make it.

Amanda's shoulders slumped. What about Cardoni?

Mike looked grim. The bastard's doing fine. That's the bad news. The good news is that he'll be fit for trial soon, so I'll be able to send him to death row. I trust you won't be representing him this time.

Amanda forced a smile and shook her head.

Am I done here? I' d love to get home and take a long, hot bath.

You're done, Mike said, holding her chair for her as she stood. Then he took her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

If there's anything I can do, let me know, Greene said quietly with a warmth that surprised her. She looked at the DA quizzically, and he blushed.

I enjoy butting heads with you, he said, so take care of yourself.

Chapter 60

Even with Cardoni locked in the secure wing at St. Francis, Amanda was afraid to stay by herself. But she turned Tony down when he invited her to stay at his house. Amanda never ran from something that scared her, and she wasn't going to start now.

That night, alone in her apartment, Amanda watched an old movie until her eyes grew heavy, then went to bed around one. She dreamed again about the operating room, the masked surgeon and the coffee mug filled with blood. When the mug slipped from the surgeon's fingers, a wave of blood arced through the air. Amanda jerked up in bed when the mug shattered. It was the second time she' d had that dream, and both times she had woken feeling at loose ends.

No reporters were lurking outside the offices of Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi when Amanda arrived at eight the next morning. She had been putting off work on her other cases while she concentrated on Justine Castle. Before she could get to them she had to put Justine's files in order. It was while she was performing this chore that Amanda spotted Bobby Vasquez's list of possible killing grounds. She remembered her promise to send it to Mike Greene. As she scanned the list her eye lit on the Ghost Lake, Oregon, entry. Something about Ghost Lake tickled her memory again, but she was interrupted before she could give it much thought.

There's a call for you on line three, the receptionist told her.

Who is it?

He says he's Vincent Cardoni, the receptionist answered nervously. He asked for Mr. Jaffe. When I told him he was out of town, he insisted on speaking to you.

Amanda hesitated. It would be easy to have the receptionist tell Cardoni that she would not take the call, but her curiosity got the better of her.

Why are you calling this firm, Dr. Cardoni? Amanda demanded as soon as she picked up the receiver. Roy Bishop is your attorney.

Bishop has no credibility with the district attorney or the police.

That may be, but we are no longer your lawyers.

I paid your father a lot of money to represent me. He's still under retainer.

You can discuss that with him when he comes back to Portland at the end of the week. As far as I' m concerned, our professional relationship ended when you murdered my client.

But I didn' t. Please come to St. Francis. I have to talk to you.

You must be insane to think that I would come anywhere near you after what you did to Justine.

You have to come. Cardoni's voice was raw and needy.

The last time I agreed to meet with you, it didn't turn out so well. I think I'll pass.

This is more important than you know, Cardoni pleaded. You're in danger, and you're the only person who knows enough to understand.

Amanda hesitated. She had no interest in meeting Cardoni. The idea of being in the same room with him scared the hell out of her. But he sounded so disturbed and unsure of himself.

Listen carefully, Dr. Cardoni. You think we still have an attorney-client relationship, but we don' t. If you say anything incriminating, I'll walk straight from your hospital room to police headquarters and tell them every word you told me.

I'll take that chance.

Amanda was surprised by the response. Let me make myself clear, Doctor. I would like nothing better than to be the one who gives you your lethal injection.

I said I'll take that chance.

Amanda thought for a moment. She could hear Cardoni's ragged breathing on the other end of the line.

I will talk to you on one condition. I am going to bring a release with me. Once you sign it, the attorney-client privilege will no longer apply and I'll be free to tell the police anything you tell me. I'll also be free to testify against you in court. Will you sign the release?

Yes, I will.

A massive steel door separated the secured ward at St. Francis from a small entry area opposite the elevator. An orderly manned a desk in front of the door. He inspected Amanda's ID and briefcase, then pressed a button. Another orderly studied Amanda through a window made of bulletproof glass that was centered in the top half of the door. When he was satisfied, he let Amanda into the ward, relocked the door and escorted her to Cardoni's room. A policeman was sitting outside. He stood up when he heard footsteps tapping down the narrow hallway. Amanda handed her bar card and driver's license to the policeman.

I' m Dr. Cardoni's attorney.

Can you please open your briefcase?

Amanda complied, and he thumbed through her paperwork and inspected all of the compartments.

You'll have to leave the briefcase out here. You can bring in your papers and a pen, but don't give the pen to Dr. Cardoni.

I have a paper he has to sign.

Okay. I'll come in with you. He can sign in my presence.

Cardoni was dressed in a hospital gown and propped up on a hospital bed with his head slightly elevated. His arms were lying on top of his blanket, and Amanda saw the jagged scar that circled the surgeon's arm just above his right wrist. Cardoni's eyes followed Amanda as she crossed the room. She moved a chair near the bed but was careful to stay far enough away so he could not reach her. The policeman positioned himself at the end of the bed. Cardoni glanced at him.

You don't need a bodyguard, he said quietly. I' m not going to hurt you.

Cardoni looked tired and subdued. The bravado she had so often noticed was not present.

The policeman will leave as soon as you sign the release.

Cardoni held out his hand, and Amanda gave him the document and a pen. He read it quickly, signed and returned the pen.

I'll be watching through the window, the officer assured Amanda before leaving the room. Amanda sat stiffly, feeling very uncomfortable in the doctor's presence.

Thank you for coming, Cardoni said as soon as the lock clicked into place.

What did you want to tell me?

Cardoni closed his eyes and rested for a moment. He seemed weak and exhausted. I was wrong about Justine.

Clever move, Doctor. Who are you going to blame for your crimes now?

I know I' m fighting an uphill battle trying to convince you that I' m innocent, but please hear me out. Four years ago, after Justine buried me at my bail hearing, I was certain that she had framed me. And after I did this, Cardoni said, pointing at his scarred wrist, all I could think about was revenge for my hand, the time I' d spent in jail and the destruction of the life I' d built. I wanted her to suffer the way I was suffering.

Cardoni held his wrist out. Do you have any idea what it's like to saw off your own hand, to lose a part of yourself? Can you imagine what it would be like for a surgeon whose life is his hands? And the new hand. Cardoni laughed bitterly. Picking up a glass was like climbing Everest. Holding a pen, writing; my God, the hours I spent trying to master that simple task.

He paused and rubbed his eyes. And, of course, there were the victims. I believed that Justine would continue to kill and that no one would try to stop her because everyone thought that I was guilty.

I returned to Portland and took a job at St. Francis so I could keep an eye on Justine. I was certain that she had a new killing ground. It took me almost a year to find it. I spent hours looking at records, visiting properties that fit the profile, talking to attorneys until I discovered Mary Ann Jager on the Thursday before Justine was arrested. That night I went to the farm and found that poor bastard in the basement. He was already dead.

Cardoni closed his eyes again and took a deep, rasping breath before continuing. He looked as though he were trying to banish a bad dream.

I went back to the hospital and took the coffee mug. I already had a surgical cap with some of Justine's hair and a scalpel with her prints. I' d been saving them.

After planting everything at the farmhouse, I parked down the street from Justine's house and phoned her from my cell phone. She left and I followed. When I saw her make the turn from the highway onto the road that led to the farm, I called in the nine-one-one. I hoped that the police would find her at the farm. If she got away before they arrived, her prints would be on the items I left and everything she touched when she was there. An anonymous tip would lead the police to her.

Cardoni paused again. He looked depressed.

When I found the victim in the basement, I studied him so I could write a journal entry detailing what I was certain she had done to him. I learned the writing style when I read the journal in the farmhouse bedroom. As soon as I was sure that Justine was going to the farm, I wrote the journal entry on the computer in her house and left a copy.

Cardoni rubbed his eyes and sighed.

I was so certain that I was doing the right thing. I was so certain that Justine had framed me and killed all of those people. Seeing that man in the basement ... I was so certain ...

Cardoni's voice trailed off.

Everything was going exactly the way I planned it until Tony Fiori blew my cover. I knew the police would release Justine as soon as they realized that I was alive. I was desperate, so I had Roy Bishop set up that meeting with Mike Greene to try to convince him that Justine was guilty.

It didn't work.

No, it didn' t, but something did happen. I received instructions to come to a rest area off the interstate. A diary excerpt was enclosed. It was an account of the torture of one of the victims. Only the killer would have that journal. So I went to the rest area early to lay a trap, but I outsmarted myself. The killer was there ahead of me, and I was hit with a tranquilizer dart.

Amanda held up her hand as though she were stopping traffic.

Please. If you're going to tell me that Bobby Vasquez is the killer, I'll walk out right now.

No, no. I didn't even know that he had followed me to the rest area until McCarthy questioned me after Justine's murder.

So who is it now? The butler?

Cardoni answered her sarcasm with a murderous glare. Then his anger faded and he looked defeated. Amanda folded her arms across her chest but stayed seated.

The first time I woke up after being tranquilized I was in total darkness and disoriented. I' m not even certain that this really happened. I thought I saw light and I think that someone gave me a shot, then I was out again.

The next time I came to I was in Justine's kitchen. I remember Fiori shooting me. The next thing I remember, I was in the hospital.

Amanda stood up. This has been a very interesting story, Dr. Cardoni. I suggest you try selling it to Hollywood. Perhaps you can start a writing career while you're on death row.

I have proof. Have them test my blood. The hospital draws blood before an operation. Have the hospital run a screen for tranquilizers. I was still heavily sedated when Fiori shot me.

You can have your attorney do that. My firm doesn't represent you anymore.

Amanda pressed a button next to the door.

I know who killed Justine, Cardoni shouted at her. It's your boyfriend, Tony Fiori.

Amanda burst out laughing. If I were you, I' d go with the butler. It's a hell of a lot more believable.

He tried to kill me at the hospital, Cardoni cried out desperately. Then he shot me at Justine's house. I was on the floor when he came through the door. I was barely conscious. Why would he shoot someone who was no threat to him? I think he needed me dead to stop the investigation. I think he was afraid that the police would figure out that I' m innocent if they kept looking into these murders.

Amanda turned to face Cardoni. The fear she' d felt was long gone, replaced by a cold hatred.

He shot you because you tried to kill him, Dr. Cardoni. I saw your gun.

I never fired a shot. I swear.

Amanda banged on the door and the guard opened it immediately. She turned back to face Cardoni.

I was with Tony when Justine called from her house and asked me to come over. She was alive then, but she was dead when Tony and I arrived. You were the only other person at the house. You tried to kill Tony and you murdered Justine.

Miss Jaffe, please, Cardoni pleaded. But Amanda was already out the door.

Chapter 61

Amanda was furious with herself for visiting Cardoni and furious with the surgeon for thinking so little of her that he would try to fool her with his ridiculous story. During the return trip to the Stockman Building, she thought about things Cardoni had said that would help nail him. He' d confessed to planting the mug, scalpel and surgical cap at the farmhouse. This tied him to the scene of four murders, but it didn't prove that he' d killed anybody. Amanda wanted something more. Justine's death demanded it.

It was while she was parking that Amanda remembered the Ghost Lake murders that Bobby Vasquez had included on his list. Back at her desk, she ran an Internet search. She found several stories about Betty Francis, a senior at Sunset High School, who had disappeared seventeen years before during a winter break ski trip, and Nancy Hamada, a sophomore at Oregon State, who had disappeared the next year, also while skiing at the Ghost Lake resort during winter break. Their bodies had been discovered fourteen years ago when a cross-country skier stumbled across them.

Amanda phoned the sheriff's department in Ghost Lake. No one in the department had been with the sheriff's office fourteen years earlier, but the secretary, who had grown up in Ghost Lake, remembered that Sally and Tom Findlay's boy, Jeff, had been a deputy when the bodies were discovered. Amanda called the Findlays and learned that their son was working in Portland.

Zimmer Scrap and Iron was an ugly stretch of chain-link fence, piles of twisted and rusting chunks of iron and herds of monster cranes that spread along the shores of the Willamette River. Just after four-thirty Amanda parked her car in front of the corporate headquarters, a three-story brick building surrounded by chaos and ruin. Amanda asked the receptionist if Jeff Findlay was in. Moments later a tall, square-jawed man with sandy hair walked into the waiting area. His pale blue eyes fixed on Amanda, and he flashed her a confused smile.

What did you want to see me about, Miss Jaffe?

Two murders you helped investigate at Ghost Lake fourteen years ago. You were a deputy with the county sheriff's office at the time.

Findlay stopped smiling. What's your interest in those cases?

They may be connected to a larger series of murders that were committed over the past four years.

Let's go inside.

Amanda followed Findlay to a small, unoccupied office.

I can see you remember the case. Amanda said.

That was the worst thing I've ever seen. Two months after the girls were dug up I quit law enforcement for good. I enrolled in an accounting program at a community college, then finished up at Portland State. I think I was trying to find a profession that would keep me as far away from dead bodies as I could get.

If Betty Francis and Nancy Hamada looked anything like the victims I've seen, I don't blame you.

Amanda told Findlay about the Cardoni and Castle cases.

We've always thought that the killings in Milton and Multnomah Counties weren't Cardoni's first, Amanda concluded. We were hoping to find an earlier murder that we could connect to him.

And you think this is it?

It might be.

Cardoni's name never came up in our investigation, Findlay said.

Where were the bodies found? Amanda asked.

In separate graves in the forest that borders the ski resort.

Who owned that land?

Ghost Lake Resort.

Cardoni's practice has been to buy property in a remote area and bury the bodies near the house where he tortures his victims. Was there private property near the burial site?

Findlay shook his head. No, there ... Oh, wait. There was a cabin a couple of miles away. Funny thing is, there was a double murder at the cabin a year before we found the bodies. We looked hard for a connection, but the only one we could find was that all four murders were during winter break.

Did the double murder at the cabin involve torture?

Not that we could tell. The cabin was torched and the bodies were badly burned. If I remember, the medical examiner concluded that the man had been bludgeoned.

Amanda frowned. There was something very familiar about this case.

Who were the victims? she asked.

One was a young woman. She' d gone up to the ski resort with her boyfriend and disappeared. Or at least that's what the boyfriend said. They were having problems. We interviewed several witnesses who heard loud arguments on the evening the woman disappeared.

The popular theory was that she' d been upset with her boyfriend, met the guy who owned the cabin and gone off with him. The boyfriend finds out, goes to the cabin, kills them and burns the place down. Trouble was, we never had any evidence to support the theory, so no one was ever arrested.

A thought flickered through Amanda's mind, but she could not hold on to it.

Do you remember the names of the victims?

No, but I seem to remember that the man was a lot older than the woman. I think he was an attorney with a Portland firm.

The blood drained from Amanda's face.

Are you okay? Findlay asked, concerned by Amanda's ash gray coloring.

Amanda did not answer. It dawned on her suddenly that she knew the name of the attorney who died at Ghost Lake, and, just as quickly, she understood the significance of her dream about the blood-filled coffee mug.

The meeting with Jeff Findlay had taken half an hour, and it took another hour before Amanda was sufficiently composed to return to the office. Frank was still working at six o' clock when she knocked on his doorjamb.

Hey, princess.

What're you working on? Amanda asked, to see if she was in control of her voice.

Frank leaned back and folded his hands across his stomach.

You know that drug bust in Union County?

Amanda nodded.

We've picked up one of the defendants.

Amanda forced a smile and sat down across from her father. Outside, the lights of downtown Portland shone bright, but storm clouds covered the moon.

Thank God for the rising crime rate, huh?

It does help pay the rent, Frank said. How come you're here after quitting time?

I wanted to ask you something.

Shoot.

Remember the night I picked you up at the airport? The day after I found Cardoni's hand?

Frank laughed How could I forget? It's not every day a father gets a call from his daughter informing him that she's discovered the amputated limb of a psychopath.

I guess it was a memorable occasion. Anyway, on the ride back I told you about finding Tony with Justine Castle and you said that Tony might not be the best person to get serious with. What made you say that?

Why do you want to know?

Tony and I, we've gotten pretty close since he returned from New York.

Frank's eyebrows went up.

When you said that about Tony, four years ago, he was leaving Oregon and I didn't see any reason to press you. But now ... I mean, is there some reason you don't like him?

No, I guess I just didn't like him hurting my little girl. Frank smiled ruefully. You know, it doesn't matter whether that little girl is five or twenty-five when you're her father. Frank paused. So, how serious is this?

Amanda forced a smile and shrugged. I don't know, Dad. But there was nothing specific, right?

Frank hesitated. Then he sat up straight.

You know that Dominic, Tony's father, was one of my original law partners?

Amanda nodded.

Dom was in my study group in law school. So was Ernie Katz. We called ourselves the Three Musketeers because we were all young guys with families who were working our way through night school.

Dom was the life of the party, the hardest drinker, the one who always wanted to go for a beer. I never understood how he could always be on the go without collapsing, but you do that sort of thing when you're young and never think about it. Nowadays they have names for Dom's problem: bipolar disorder, manic-depression. We just thought of Dom as an iron man, and we rarely saw him when he was down.

Once we formed our partnership it became obvious that Dom had problems. His wife left him and Tony when Tony was in high school. There were rumors that he was abusive to both of them. Tony was pretty wild by then. I helped him out of two scrapes in high school, and I was able to keep his record clean. When he went to Colgate I hoped that being away from Dom would help him get his life together.

Dom was very smart and he was a good lawyer when his motor was going, but he was arrogant and lazy. He was also a heavy drinker and a womanizer. He cost us two good secretaries before we caught on. You were a sophomore in high school when Ernie and I asked Dom to leave the firm. It was a bad scene.

Two days later a detective came to the office. It was winter break and we were supposed to go skiing, but I had to call off the trip, remember?

Amanda nodded.

Dom had a cabin in the mountains

Near Ghost Lake, wasn't it?

Frank nodded, and Amanda felt sick.

The detective told us that it had burned to the ground. Dom and a young woman were inside when the fire started. The police determined that it was arson.

Where was Tony? Amanda asked, using every ounce of will to keep her tone casual.

He was in Mexico for winter break. I' m the one who had to phone him and tell him that his father was dead. Frank shook his head sadly as he remembered the call.

So you talked to him, you spoke to him?

Not right away. If I remember, I left a message at his hotel asking him to call. I think he got in touch a day or so later. Then he flew home.

What does his father's murder or his problems have to do with you not liking Tony? You can't blame him for his father's sins.

Frank thought for a moment before replying.

What Tony's done, becoming a doctor, is admirable, but growing up the way he did can affect a young man; it leaves scars. Sometimes they're permanent and they prevent a man from ever figuring out how to relate to a woman. Tony's father was a drunk and a womanizer, and he was physically abusive. That's the lesson he taught Tony. When you told me he was dating you and seeing another woman at the same time, it made me think of the way Dom treated women.

Amanda stood up. It was all she could do to keep her legs from shaking.

Thanks, Dad. I've got to go now.

Sure. I hope I didn't upset you.

No, I' m fine.

Amanda flashed a smile and hoped it masked her fear. Then she turned and left the office, fighting hard to keep from running.

Chapter 62

The orderly on duty outside the secured ward looked up when two men wearing white coats over casual clothes got out of the elevator. Dimitri Novikov and Igor Timoshenko were arguing about this year's prospects for the Seattle Mariners. They both carried cups of coffee. Timoshenko had a stethoscope around his neck. The guard relaxed. That's when Novikov pressed his silenced pistol against the guard's temple.

Please ring for your friend who is inside, Dimitri asked politely in barely accented English. I will be lowering my pistol as soon as you do, but my companion is also armed and he will kill you if there is any trouble.

As soon as the guard pressed the button, the weapon disappeared. A moment later a face pressed against the bulletproof glass in the door to the ward.

We're here to examine Dr. Cardoni, Novikov said into the intercom next to the door. Then he turned to Timoshenko and continued to press his position that the Mariners had no chance of winning their division.

Their relievers are pathetic, he said emphatically.

He was midway through listing the earned-run averages of the team's relief pitchers when the door opened. He stopped arguing long enough to press his gun against the orderly's stomach.

One word and I will kill you. Lead us to Dr. Cardoni's room.

The orderly's eyes widened. He turned without speaking and started down the corridor. He was so frightened that the pfft made by Timoshenko's silenced pistol did not register. Timoshenko closed the door to the ward, locked it and followed Novikov and the orderly. On the other side of the door, blood from a fatal head wound spread over the surface of the guard's desk.

Timoshenko and Novikov were Russians who lived in Seattle. Martin Breach had used their talents before for special jobs. The previous evening they had met Art Prochaska in a video arcade in Vancouver, Washington. Prochaska had paid them $25,000 and promised another $25,000 if they delivered Vincent Cardoni to Breach alive and relatively unharmed. He had given the Russians a floor plan of the hospital and a detailed diagram of the secured ward. An elevator inside the ward was used to move prisoners. An ambulance driven by another Russian was parked outside a ground-floor door of the hospital. All Novikov and Timoshenko had to do was gain access to Cardoni's room, sedate him and take him down the elevator. Breach did not care how they accomplished their task as long as they delivered their package.

The policeman who was sitting outside Cardoni's room was surprised to see two doctors following the orderly down the corridor. He knew the schedule by heart, and no one was supposed to be examining the prisoner at two o' clock in the morning. The officer stood and took one step forward before Timoshenko shot him in the forehead. Blood from the exit wound splattered across the window in the door to Cardoni's room. The orderly made a half turn, but he was dead before he could complete it. It was always best to leave no witnesses.

Novikov took the orderly's keys and opened the door. He put his pistol in the pocket of his white coat and withdrew a syringe. The room was dark, but Novikov could make out a large shape under a blanket and sheet. He moved quietly, not wanting to wake Cardoni. Prochaska had made it clear that there would be no more money if Cardoni was killed or badly injured, and Novikov did not want to have to explain failure to Martin Breach.

Cardoni's blanket covered him from head to toe. Novikov was standing over the bed before he could make out the top of the surgeon's head in the darkened room. The Russian pulled the covers back slowly. He was leaning down to inject Cardoni when the surgeon plunged a bedspring through Novikov's ear and into his brain. It was the same bedspring he had broken off from the underside of his bed and spent hours straightening and sharpening in the dark while planning his escape. The hypodermic fell to the floor and shattered. Cardoni propped up the Russian, who twitched for a moment before becoming limp.

Timoshenko glanced down the hall, then looked through the window to see how his partner was doing. Novikov's body was bent forward, shielding Cardoni from Timoshenko, whose view was partially obscured by the blood that had spattered across the window in the steel door. Cardoni slid out from under his attacker and lowered Novikov's body onto the bed. He found the Russian's weapon while Timoshenko was figuring out that something unplanned had occurred in the darkened room. Cardoni shot the Russian while he was charging through the door.

When Cardoni was certain that his assailants were dead, the surgeon stripped Novikov, who was closest to his size and whose clothes were unstained by blood. In a few minutes Cardoni was dressed in street clothes covered by a doctor's white coat. A stethoscope was draped around his neck. He took the elevator to the ground floor and walked out of St. Francis Medical Center.

Sean McCarthy's call awakened Mike Greene from a deep sleep at five-thirty. He had been bleary-eyed when he picked up the receiver, but the news of Cardoni's escape acted like a double shot of espresso. Greene was so distracted that he recalled little of the drive through the darkened streets of Portland. The first thing that did make an impression was the large bloodstain that covered the desk outside the secured ward. He shivered involuntarily as he walked through the law enforcement personnel who jammed the corridor outside Cardoni's room.

Sean McCarthy was talking to a fingerprint expert. A policeman and a man in an orderly's clothes lay on the green linoleum floor in pools of blood a few feet from the detective. Greene smelled the dead men before he saw them. He looked up so that the bodies were only in his peripheral vision.

As soon as he spotted the deputy district attorney, McCarthy walked to meet him.

Let's get out of here, McCarthy said. I need some coffee.

How did he get away? Greene asked as soon as they were in the elevator.

We're not sure yet. We found five bodies. We've identified three of them: the orderly who mans the desk in front of the elevator and the policeman and orderly who were found outside Cardoni's room. Here's where it gets weird. There are two dead men in Cardoni's room. One man was shot as he came through the door. He was dressed like a doctor, but he was holding a pistol with a silencer. The techs think it's the weapon that was used to kill the cop and the two orderlies.

The second man was killed with a sharpened bedspring. Cardoni worked it off the bottom of his bed. The second man is only wearing underwear, and we found Cardoni's hospital gown on the floor. We assume Cardoni's wearing the dead man's clothing.

Was the guy a doctor?

We don't know, but no doctors were scheduled to visit Cardoni and no one from St. Francis has been able to identify either man.

The elevator doors opened. McCarthy bought two coffees from a vending machine while Greene took a table in the deserted cafeteria.

One interesting thing, McCarthy told the DA after taking a sip from his cup. Cardoni had a visitor yesterday afternoon, Amanda Jaffe.

What was she doing with Cardoni?

Her firm represented him when he was charged in Milton County. Maybe he wants her to continue the representation.

There's no way the Jaffes could do that, Mike said. She's a witness, and he murdered one of the firm's clients. There's a clear conflict. Have you talked to her?

I phoned her apartment, but her answering machine was on.

Have someone go there. It's a long shot, but Cardoni may have said something to Amanda that will give us a clue to where he's gone.

Before McCarthy could answer, McCarthy's partner, Alex DeVore, walked into the cafeteria.

We've got an ID on the two men in Cardoni's room, he said. Dimitri Novikov and Igor Timoshenko, Russian Mafia from Seattle.

What were they doing down here? McCarthy asked.

Remember the Colombians who tried to move in on Martin Breach two years ago?

I still have trouble eating when I think about the crime scene, Greene answered.

The word is that Novikov was in on that.

So you think Breach brought in out-of-town talent to do Cardoni?

Breach never forgives and he never forgets, McCarthy answered.

Mike Greene's pager started to beep. He took a look at the number on the screen, then pulled out a cell phone and dialed immediately.

Amanda? It's Mike.

We've got to talk.

She sounded upset, almost near tears.

I can't right now. I' m at St. Francis. Cardoni's escaped.

What! How?

We're not really certain.

We still have to talk. Please. What I have to say may be more important than the escape.

I find that hard to believe.

There's a possibility that Vincent Cardoni is innocent.

Come on, Amanda. Cardoni murdered Justine Castle almost under your nose. We've got five dead men here. The man is a homicidal maniac.

Listen to me closely, Mike. Before a patient has surgery the hospital draws a blood sample. You have to find out if there was any trace of sedatives, anesthetic or tranquilizers in Cardoni's sample. If his blood wasn't tested for those substances, I want you to run one and tell me the results. If the test results are what I think they'll be, you'll change your opinion.

Chapter 63

Sean McCarthy and Alex DeVore followed Mike Greene into the conference room at the district attorney's office. Greene stared at Amanda Jaffe. Her shoulders slumped and her complexion was ashen.

What the hell happened to you? Greene asked as he took a seat next to her. When Amanda answered, he had to strain to hear her.

We've all been fools. Her voice caught, and she paused to collect herself. Mike thought that she might begin to cry. Cardoni is innocent. So was Justine.

It's going to take a lot to convince me of that.

Amanda took a deep breath, as if the mere act of speaking had wasted her. She sipped from a glass of water.

Fifteen years ago a member of my father's law firm drove to a cabin he owned near the Ghost Lake ski resort. A few days later my father learned that he had died in an arson fire. The body of a young woman was also found in the cabin.

What does this have to do with Cardoni?

Nothing. The lawyer's name was Dominic Fiori. He was Tony's father. The following year, the bodies of two young women were found in shallow graves a mile or so from the Fiori cabin. One had been reported missing the year before the arson during winter break. The other was reported missing two years before, also during winter break.

Amanda paused. She ran her hand hard back and forth across her forehead and fought to regain control of her emotions.

Are you okay? Mike asked, concerned by Amanda's obvious distress.

No, Mike. I feel sick. I can't ...

Greene cast a quick glance at McCarthy, who looked equally concerned.

Amanda gathered herself. When she spoke, Greene was certain he' d misunderstood her.

What did you say?

I said the women at Ghost Lake were Tony Fiori's first victims. Amanda's voice broke as tears flooded her eyes. He killed them, Mike. He killed them all.

How is that possible, Amanda? Tony was with you when Justine called you for help. The medical examiner said that Justine died within an hour of your arrival at her house. You told Sean that you were with Fiori for two hours before Justine called.

Amanda wiped her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was devoid of emotion.

When I visited him at the hospital, Cardoni told me that he was knocked out with a tranquilizer dart at the rest area. I think Tony kept him a prisoner somewhere, then brought Cardoni to Justine's house before I came over to Tony's house on the night Justine died.

But what about the phone call? Mike asked. How could Tony kill Justine? He was never out of your sight.

That's not true. I didn't see Tony while I was making the nine-one-one call at Justine's house. I've given this a lot of thought. What if Tony tortured Justine earlier in the afternoon and forced her to make a tape? He could have left Cardoni sedated in Justine's kitchen and Justine sedated and tied to the chair in the living room. I took Justine's call in the loft on my cell phone. Tony could have played the tape over his phone in his kitchen. I couldn't see Tony when I spoke to Justine. None of her statements was responsive to anything I said. The call was short. She said my name, then she told me to come over and she hung up.

I don't know, Greene said. That's quite a stretch.

Amanda sat up straight in her chair and her features hardened.

Cardoni had traces of heavy-duty tranquilizers in his blood. That's what you told me. Why would he tranquilize himself?

Greene didn't answer.

After Tony told me that Justine was tied up in the living room, he told me to stay in the car and lock myself in when I called 911. He was counting on my following his orders. I think he ran into the house and cut Justine's throat. He' d calculated when the anesthetic he' d given Cardoni would wear off. Maybe he even gave Cardoni something to bring him around. After that, all he had to do was place the second gun in Cardoni's hand while Cardoni was still groggy and fire the first shot. Then he shot Cardoni with his own gun. I' m betting that Tony would have finished him off if I' d stayed in the car. Tony needed Cardoni dead so you' d stop investigating his crimes. He was afraid you' d stumble onto something that would prove he was the killer.

This sounds crazy, Amanda, Greene said.

Tony Fiori has been killing since he was a junior in high school and no one has ever suspected him. He was supposed to be in Mexico during winter break when his father died, but that was his alibi. I think his father walked in on him while he was working on his third victim and Tony killed him. My father is the one who called Mexico to tell Tony that Dominic was dead. I asked him about that last night. He said it took the people at his hotel a day to find him.

You have to do better than this.

Amanda reminded Mike Greene of the killing ground in Colorado and told him about the killing ground in Peru. She also told him her dream about the blood-filled coffee cup and what it meant.

It's possible, McCarthy said when she was through, but there's nowhere near enough for an indictment.

There's no concrete evidence at all, Mike added.

I know, Amanda answered, her voice unsteady but filled with determination. That's why you have to let me get you your evidence.

Chapter 64

God, it's good to see you, Tony, Amanda said, reaching up to give him a hug. Thanks for letting me stay here.

In a van parked on a side road a short distance from Tony's house, Alex DeVore, Sean McCarthy and Mike Greene heard every word broadcast through the listening devices that had been planted while Fiori was at the hospital.

To tell the truth, I haven't felt like staying alone, either, since I heard Cardoni escaped.

We probably don't have anything to worry about. Sean McCarthy's convinced that Cardoni is long gone.

You wouldn't be staying here if you believed that.

Amanda smiled coyly. I might have ulterior motives.

You are such a slut.

Tony put his hands around Amanda's waist, pulled her close and kissed her. She pulled back slightly, and he looked confused.

Everything all right?

Sure, she said, fighting to keep from sounding nervous. Cardoni's escape just has me rattled. Say, I' m starving. What's for dinner?

Veal piccata, but I just got home fifteen minutes ago, so I don't have dinner up yet.

Busy day at the hospital? Amanda asked, to keep Tony talking.

It was a madhouse. All anyone was talking about was Cardoni's killing spree. Then we had a five-car pileup on the interstate.

Amanda followed Tony into the kitchen. He filled a pot of water, then took two strips of veal scaloppini out of a shopping bag and laid them between sheets of wax paper.

I may have proof of Cardoni's guilt soon, Amanda said as Tony pounded the veal lightly to flatten it.

Oh?

Bobby Vasquez discovered two murders that occurred in Oregon that are very similar to the killings in Milton County and the murders at the farm.

No kidding. When was this?

One woman was killed seventeen years ago and the other sixteen years ago.

Where were the murders?

The Ghost Lake ski resort. The women were found in the forest, half a mile from one of the runs. This could have been Cardoni's first killing ground, so he may not have been as careful as he is now.

Tony blended flour with salt and pepper, then dipped the meat in the mixture until there was a light coating of flour on the veal.

Did you tell McCarthy that Cardoni accused me? he asked casually.

No. Why should I waste his time with that ridiculous story? Cardoni was just desperate. He even claimed that he was drugged when he was at Justine's house. He wanted me to have the blood that was drawn prior to his operation screened for tranquilizers.

Who was supposed to have drugged him? Me? Tony asked as he put olive oil and butter in a skillet, placed the skillet on a burner on the stove and turned on the heat under the pot of water.

Yeah, Amanda answered, shaking her head in disbelief. He said that he was coming to when you shot him.

Coming at me is more like it. What did McCarthy think about that little gem?

I didn't mention it to him. Like I said, why waste his time with Cardoni's crap? Amanda shook her head. I do have to give Cardoni credit, though. He had me going for a minute.

You've got to be kidding.

He's a skilled liar, Tony. You have no idea how convincing he can be.

Tony looked alarmed. You actually thought I ... that I could do that?

No, but he made a pretty good case against you.

How, if I didn't do it?

Whether you did it or not is irrelevant. Lawyers convince juries all the time that things that didn't happen are true. Amanda smiled. I bet I could convince you that you're guilty, using my exceptional forensic skills.

Bullshit.

That's not a challenge, is it?

Loser does the dishes.

You're on.

Okay, Ally McJaffe. Prove I did it.

Let's see. Amanda stroked her chin dramatically. First, there's the killing ground in Colorado.

What killing ground?

It was on the list that Bobby Vasquez compiled for me of murder cases with MOs similar to the Oregon cases. The bodies of several torture victims were found on farmland near Boulder. The farm was purchased using the MO used to purchase the farmhouse in Multnomah County and the home in Milton County.

How does that prove I' m a killer? Tony asked with a skeptical smile.

You were a ski instructor in Colorado, and you went to school at the University of Colorado at Boulder.

That's true, but Cardoni worked in Denver. And, come to think of it, so did Justine. You won't get much mileage out of that point. Next?

The water started to boil. Tony turned the heat up under the skillet.

There's the coffee mug.

Tony looked puzzled. What coffee mug?

The one the police found at the cabin in Milton County.

What about it?

The police never told the press or the public that Cardoni's prints were on it.

So?

You knew.

I did?

Four years ago, at your house, we were talking about Cardoni's case after dinner. I told you about serial killer profiles, and I mentioned that organized nonsocials have active fantasy lives that enable them to visualize their crimes in advance. I said that this trait helped them anticipate errors that could lead to their capture. You commented that Cardoni did not anticipate the errors that led to his capture. You said that it was really dumb to leave a scalpel and a coffee mug with his fingerprints at the scene of the crime.

I don't remember saying that.

Well, you did.

Come on. Tony laughed. How can you possibly remember what we talked about four years ago?

Amanda stopped smiling. It was our first date, Tony. I remember everything about it. I was really taken with you and replayed the evening in my head a lot of times. It meant something to me.

Well, you got the conversation wrong. I never mentioned anything about a coffee mug. I don't think I even knew the cops found a mug at the cabin, unless you told me about it. That might be where I heard about it, if I did. You said yourself that we talked about the case.

The butter and olive oil were heating up, and Tony put the veal in the sizzling pan.

There was another killing ground in Peru.

Tony froze.

Cardoni was living in the States when the victims disappeared and Justine was never in Peru, but you were in medical school in Lima then.

There were similar murders when I was studying in Peru?

Amanda nodded.

Wow. That's amazing. Tony shrugged and smiled. Well, I didn't do it. Besides, you're forgetting that Cardoni admitted framing Justine by planting evidence at the farmhouse. That proves he was at the scene of the crime.

Ah, but it doesn't prove he committed the crime. Cardoni claimed that he framed Justine because he believed that she framed him four years ago.

Why would Justine do that?

Clifford Grant made a deal with Martin Breach to deliver a heart that was supposed to be transplanted into a wealthy Canadian. The police raided the airport when Grant arrived with it, but Grant escaped with the money and the organ. Grant had a partner. Breach didn't know the partner's name. The partner killed Grant to keep him from talking and buried him at the cabin. Cardoni's story is that the partner created a fall guy to throw Breach off the scent. With his addiction to cocaine and erratic behavior, Cardoni was the perfect patsy. Cardoni thought Justine was Grant's partner, so he framed her to get even. Now he claims that you were Grant's partner.

Of course he does. With Justine dead, he couldn't very well carry on with his ridiculous story that she framed him.

Oh, it's pretty clear that Cardoni was framed.

Yeah? Tony said as he dropped several handfuls of pasta into the boiling water.

Cardoni didn't know about the farm until shortly before he framed Justine. I talked to Mary Ann Jager, the lawyer who bought the property. She said that Cardoni showed up at her office a few days before Justine was arrested and tried to find out who owned it and how it had been purchased. Why would he do that if he already owned it?

Tony clapped his hands and laughed. Very impressive, Amanda. You're a terrific lawyer. You almost have me convinced that I killed everyone.

That's why I get paid the big bucks, Amanda said, making a small bow.

Still, when you add everything up, your case against me is purely circumstantial and pretty skinny.

I've won with less, she answered with a confident smile.

Tony sighed. Are you taking me in before dinner or do I get a last meal?

Amanda pointed to the skillet. That smells too good to waste. I think I'll wait until after we eat to bring you in.

Here's a reward for your kindness.

Tony secured a slender piece of veal on the tines of a fork and held it just out of reach of Amanda's lips.

Take a taste, he said, feeding the slice to Amanda. As soon as it was in her mouth, Tony swung his fist as hard as he could and caught Amanda flush on the jaw. She staggered. Tony pulled her to the ground and applied a choke hold. Amanda was unconscious in moments.

How about opening the wine? Tony said as he pressed tape over Amanda's mouth. He kept up a dialogue about his day at work, interspersed with cooking instructions, while he searched Amanda for a wire. If she was here on her own, he had no problems. If she was wired or the police had gotten into the house and planted listening devices, he would have to disappear. He didn't think the police were watching him on a concealed camera because they would have moved as soon as he hit Amanda.

Amanda began to stir. Tony rolled her over and secured her hands behind her back with a set of plastic restraints. He hastily scribbled a short note and took a sharp knife out of a drawer while regaling Amanda with a funny story about a screwup by a new intern. As soon as Amanda's eyes opened Tony pressed the knife to her throat and held up a note: one sound and i will blind you.

Amanda's eyes showed her fear, but she did not make a sound. Tony motioned her to her feet. Amanda scrambled up and stood unsteadily, still groggy from being rendered unconscious. Tony had removed all of her clothes during the search, but she was too terrified to be embarrassed. He pointed toward the basement door with his knife. Amanda hesitated, and he stabbed her in the arm. Amanda gasped. Tony put the knife to her eye and she stumbled down the hall.

Is that a great Chianti or what? Tony asked cheerfully.

Chapter 65

Something's wrong, Mike Greene said. He, Alex DeVore, Sean McCarthy and a technician were squeezed in the back of a van jammed with electronic equipment.

They're talking, Alex DeVore said.

No, he's talking. She hasn't spoken in more than five minutes. I put a watch on them. She's got to be nervous. Hell, she's got to be terrified. Someone in that state should be talking a blue streak. It's her only contact with us.

Mike might be right, McCarthy said.

If we send the men in now, we blow it, DeVore cautioned.

If we don't and something happens to Amanda, I

Hold it, the tech interrupted. They're in the basement. I can hear them going down the stairs.

Send the men in, now, McCarthy yelled, ripping off his headset.

DeVore yanked the mike from the tech's hand.

Go, go, go, he yelled. They're in the basement.

SWAT team members rose from their positions in the woods surrounding Tony's house and moved in. The first group went in the back door and the second through the front. When they experienced no resistance, the first group opened the cellar door. It was pitch black. The first man through the door crouched low and scanned the basement with night vision goggles. He edged down the stairs, weapon at the ready. Two other SWAT team members followed. They fanned out when they were in the basement. There was little to see: a floor-to-ceiling wine rack, the furnace, a water heater, a racing bike.

Lights, the team leader ordered. The men removed their goggles and the man at the top of the stairs flipped the switch.

Where are they? one of the men asked.

There has to be another way out, the team leader said. Find it.

Over here, one of the men yelled. He was kneeling next to a trap door that was flush with the floor. It had been covered with a rug. Three of the men surrounded the door and aimed their assault rifles at it. The fourth man opened the door in one smooth movement while the team leader looked on. There was a narrow depression in the earth no wider or deeper than a coffin. There were blood spots on the dirt. A rank smell issued forth.

The basement is deserted, the team leader reported to the men in the van.

So is the rest of the house, the tech in the van answered. The second team had already briefed him.

We found a hidden trap door covering a coffin-size hole with what appears to be dried blood and excrement in it. He may have been holding people down there.

Keep looking for another way out, McCarthy said. If there's one hidden door, there might be another.

Tony Fiori had met his first victim on the slopes of the Ghost Lake resort. He had taken her to the family cabin, tortured her to death and buried her in the woods. Everything went so smoothly that Tony gave no thought to being caught. Teenagers don't do much planning, anyway. Tony's luck held with his second victim. Then Dominic Fiori walked in on his son in the act of torturing victim number three, and it suddenly occurred to Tony that it would be wise to take precautions.

Tony had enough money from his father's estate and life insurance to secure a private place to conduct his experiments in pain, and he soon developed a foolproof technique for purchasing his research facilities. Then he studied forensic techniques to avoid detection by police specialists. Finally he created an escape plan if the worst-case scenario occurred.

As soon as they were in the basement, Tony placed a hood over Amanda's head, slid the moveable wine rack aside and pushed her into the escape tunnel. A flashlight hung on a hook just inside the door. Beneath it was a backpack with a pistol, cash, a change of clothing, materials for a disguise, a fake passport and other false identification.

Tony barred the entrance to the tunnel from the inside, grabbed the flashlight and located the backpack. The tunnel extended a quarter of a mile under the woods behind his house. Amanda ran stooped over because of the low ceiling. Stones and roots cut her bare feet; her buttocks and the backs of her thighs bled from gashes made by Tony's knife as he jabbed her when she slowed. A half mile from the tunnel exit a car purchased with false ID was waiting. Several hundred miles away in a small Montana town was his new laboratory. Amanda Jaffe would be its inaugural subject. It was stocked with enough food to last several months. When the search for him and Amanda died down, he would leave the country and plan his future. Amanda, or what was left of her, would stay behind in Montana.

Tony felt energized by the chase. He' d heard the back door crash open seconds before he closed and bolted the door to the tunnel, and it gave him a sense of satisfaction to know that he had outwitted the police.

As they hustled along, Tony admired the way Amanda's buttocks moved ahead of him. They were lithe and well muscled, like her legs. Tony thought about the time he would spend with Amanda. Tony liked best those first lovely moments when his subjects fully appreciated the horror of their situation. He watched with night vision goggles as they awoke in the dark, confused, frightened and unaware that they were under observation. There was always a widening of the eyes, a racing of the pulse, the mad attempt to break free from their bonds. He would lose this moment with Amanda. In her case, though, there would be other compensations.

You present me with a rare opportunity, Tony told Amanda as he prodded her forward. Most of my subjects have been runaways, addicts or prostitutes. They haven't been in the best of physical condition, and I've often wondered what effect that had on their ability to tolerate pain. I' m interested to see how much pain a well-conditioned athlete can endure. We'll both learn a lot about pain in the weeks to come.

Tony suddenly grabbed Amanda's arm and yanked her to an abrupt stop while he listened for movement in the tunnel. When he was certain they were not being followed, he slapped her with the blade of his knife. She lurched forward and collided with the tunnel wall before Tony set her straight.

You were so easy to fool, Tony taunted, breathing easily as they ran. I dated you to milk you for information, just as I used Justine to find out what I needed to know to frame Vincent. Did you think our reunion at St. Francis was a coincidence? Justine told me about the interview.

Tony chuckled. You weren't much of a challenge, though I must say that your reactions to sexual stimulus were often interesting. I may see if I can bring you to climax while you're in pain. I've tried it before on male and female subjects with interesting results.

Amanda was becoming exhausted and disoriented. It was hard to breathe in the hood with the tape across her mouth, and her fear was quickly sapping her strength.

You can take some comfort in the fact that you're aiding science. You know, it was my father who inspired my interest in pain, but he wasn't very scientific or imaginative. Belts and fists were the limits of his creativity. I've far surpassed him, as you'll soon learn.

I would have loved using Vincent as a subject, but I couldn't because the medical examiner would have seen the marks. If you hadn't stopped me from killing Cardoni, the investigation would have ended and I wouldn't have had to worry about someone like you discovering my work in Peru and Ghost Lake. I bet you wish you' d stayed in the car.

They were almost at the end of the tunnel when they heard the explosion.

Looks like the police have found my escape hatch. But don't get your hopes up. They're a quarter mile behind.

Tony shoved open a trap door concealed under a layer of earth. He pushed Amanda up a short ladder, closed the door and rolled a boulder over it. Then he urged Amanda through the woods. There was no trail, but Tony knew every inch of the route to the car by heart. He did practice runs each month.

Amanda gasped for air as she stumbled forward over the stones that cut her feet. Only fear of what Tony would do if she slowed down kept her moving. Her legs trembled and she stayed upright by sheer force of will. Finally, just when she was certain that she could not go another step, she ran into the side of a car.

Stop, Tony ordered.

Amanda doubled over. Her lungs heaved. She heard the trunk pop open. Once she was in the trunk, it would be all over. Tony would drive away and her fate would be sealed.

Amanda broke away from the car and was in the woods before Tony could react. She hit a tree with her shoulder, spun and drove forward blindly. She expected to feel Tony's grip any moment, but she was still running free when a log sent her sprawling. Pain shot through her shins as she flew through space. Her head cracked against a tree trunk. She lay on the ground, stunned, yet somehow gathered herself, rolled to her side and regained her feet. A car motor started. She heard tires spinning and distant shouts. Amanda raced toward the voices, stumbled and fell to her knees.

She's over here, someone shouted.

It's okay, someone else said.

Amanda collapsed as kind hands took hold of her. Someone cut through the plastic restraints that bound her hands behind her, and someone else draped a coat over her shoulders. Another person removed the hood and the tape that sealed her mouth. With eyes blurred by tears and exhaustion, Amanda saw the SWAT team members who were scouring the woods.

Do you have him? someone shouted.

He's gone. He's disappeared, someone else answered.

Amanda, it's me.

Amanda opened her eyes and saw Mike Greene leaning over her in the back of the ambulance.

Is she okay? Greene asked the medic.

She'll be fine, he answered. She's disoriented and frightened, but her cuts are all superficial.

Did they get him? Amanda asked.

Greene shook his head.

But don't worry. He won't get far, Mike said bravely, though without conviction. He sat next to Amanda, trying to think of something else to say. The medic gave Amanda a cup of steaming tea. She thanked him automatically and took a sip while her eyes stared ahead vacantly. Finally, at a loss for words, Mike Greene laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

Chapter 66

Tony Fiori came to slowly. His vision was blurred, his cheek pressed against cold, damp concrete. Fiori's hands were bound tightly behind his back. Tape covered his mouth; he tried to stand, but his ankles were also bound.

Good, you're awake.

Fiori recognized the voice. He rolled over and saw Vincent Cardoni watching him.

We're in a warehouse in Portland, if you're interested, Cardoni said as he reached down to check the ankle and wrist restraints. Fiori tried to wrench away from him, but it was useless.

I' d conserve your strength if I were you. You're going to need it.

Cardoni saw fear in Fiori's eyes and smiled. Oh, no, you don't have to worry about me. But you do need to be afraid.

Cardoni took out his cell phone.

I followed Amanda Jaffe to your house and spotted the SWAT team, so I stayed in the woods to see what would happen.

Cardoni listened to someone on the other end of the phone. Mr. Breach, please.

It was luck that I saw you emerge from your tunnel, he continued as he waited for Breach to take his call. Bad luck for you. Cardoni smiled. You've made my life hell since the day you framed me. But you're going to put things right. You're going to square me with Martin Breach.

Cardoni's attention returned to the phone. Mr. Breach, he said, have you checked with your police friends? Cardoni paused. Good. Then you know that Tony Fiori was Dr. Grant's partner and that I had nothing to do with the heart?

Cardoni paused again and nodded at something Breach said. When he spoke, he looked at Fiori so that he could enjoy his reaction.

No, no, Mr. Breach, I don't want any money. Dr. Fiori cost me my hand and my career, and he made me live underground like an animal for four years. What we both want, I believe, is revenge: something more fitting than a quick and painless death by lethal injection.

Cardoni watched with great satisfaction as understanding, then terror, registered in Fiori's eyes. He tried to speak, but the tape muffled his words. As he thrashed on the ground Cardoni gave Breach the address of the warehouse, then disconnected.

They'll be here soon, so I have to leave, Cardoni said. Mr. Breach did want me to tell you something, though. It seems that a contact in the police department gave him a copy of your pain journals. He says he found them quite interesting and is looking forward to trying the techniques you found most effective.

Fiori's eyes stretched open as far as possible. He strained uselessly against his bonds. Cardoni watched him for a moment more, then threw his head back and began to laugh. His laughter continued to echo in the cold, hollow space as he disappeared into the night.

Chapter 67

Two weeks after her escape, Amanda was reviewing case notes in the corridor outside a courtroom when she looked up to find Mike Greene smiling down at her.

Mr. Greene, are you spying on me? she asked, matching his smile with one of her own.

Mike sat beside her on the bench. Nope, I' m just checking to see if you're okay.

Thanks, Mike, I' m fine.

This must be really hard for you. You were very close to Fiori, weren't you?

Amanda smiled sadly. He used me to find out about the investigation, Mike. I never meant anything to him, and he doesn't mean a thing to me now. I'll tell you one thing, though I' m through dating serial killers.

Mike barked out a laugh. Then he sobered and looked at Amanda uneasily. She sensed that he wanted to say something, but Greene looked uncharacteristically nervous.

Have you heard anything more about Bobby Vasquez? Amanda asked when the silence went on too long.

He'll be out of the hospital by next week, Greene said. He seemed grateful for the easy question. He's made a great recovery.

Thank God for that. She paused. Have you ... ?

Mike shook his head. There's nothing new on Fiori. He's dropped off the face of the earth.

Amanda sighed. She nodded toward the police officer sitting a few benches away.

It sure would be nice to know that I didn't need protection anymore.

Well, you're going to get it until we know you're safe. I don't want anything happening to you at least outside court.

Amanda smiled. I think I can take pretty good care of myself there.

That you can, Mike agreed. Then he hesitated. You know, I could take over as your bodyguard this Saturday if you're interested.

Amanda looked confused. Mike smiled nervously.

Do you like jazz?

What?

There's a really good trio playing at a club in Old Town next week.

Amanda couldn't hide her surprise.

Are you asking me out, like on a date?

I've wanted to ask you out for a long time. Mike blushed. No guts. But I figured if you could be brave enough to go up against Fiori, I could muster the courage to ask you out.

I love jazz.

Mike's face lit up. Okay.

Give me a call and let me know when we're going.

I will. This is great.

Amanda laughed. Does this mean you'll go easier on me the next time we have a case together?

Not a chance, Mike answered, grinning unabashedly. Not a chance.