50

New York, 2004


Ten minutes after Cindy Vine had agreed to talk, Horn and Larkin were in the interrogation room with Millhouse, Twigg, and Cindy.

It was warm in there. Horn could feel the body heat and smell the sweat and fear emanating from Cindy. Getting mixed up with the wrong man was every woman’s potential pitfall, he thought. It worked the other way, too, but not as often and not as severely. Not a lot of wives turned out to be serial killers.

“Joe had a lot of pressure,” Cindy began, with the recorder running. “So did I, so maybe that’s why I didn’t notice how odd he was behaving. He was full of hate, and something else. Then, a couple of months ago, he told me about Aaron Mandle killing those women.”

“The Night Spider murders?” Millhouse asked softly.

“No, the ones that happened while they were in the SSF, when they were on missions in various trouble spots around the world. Mandle was sick, dangerous. In Afghanistan, Joe walked in on him right after he’d killed a girl.”

“Did Joe tell his commanding officer?”

“No, he couldn’t. Their unit was separate from the main force, like usual when they were on a nearly suicidal mission. That’s how Joe described it. So he waited before saying anything. He figured out that the girl Mandle killed wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. Then, after a while, he realized it was too late to speak out. It would have looked bad for him if he’d said something, maybe ended his career in disgrace. He said that until now they never told their wives or anyone else about the murders. Joe thought Mandle was dead, until he was arrested for the Night Spider killings. He watched the news and followed the trial, the conviction. .” Cindy started to sob again but bit her lip. She held in her distress like a great pressure, without breathing for a long time.

Finally she sighed, in control of herself, but seeming to become smaller as she exhaled. “Then came the phone call the night Mandle escaped. We were in bed, but I heard Joe on the phone. I knew he must be talking to Mandle. Joe hung up and started getting dressed in the dark. It surprised him when I asked where he was going. He’d thought I was asleep.”

“What did Joe say?” Millhouse asked casually, isolating and emphasizing the answer for the recorder.

“That he had to go out. An old friend who was in trouble had called. I asked him what old friend, but all he said was not to worry about it. He kissed me good-bye and went.”

“When did he return?”

“I’m not sure. I’d taken pills. We’d both been drinking. The stress of our son. . what was happening in our lives. When I woke up at about nine the next morning, Joe was next to me in bed.” Cindy couldn’t hold back her tears now. She dropped her head onto the table, hid her face in the crook of her arm, and began to sob uncontrollably.

“Enough for now,” Twigg said.

“Joe’s not an evil man!” said Cindy from the shelter of her bent arm. “Joe is not an evil man!”

Horn kept his teeth clenched. Oh, really? Is this the Joe who wants to torture and kill my wife?

But he said nothing, glancing at Vicki Twigg. She nodded slightly, as if to say, I understand. We both know about evil.

Horn was again humbled by the realization that what was profound in life usually lay unspoken.

And what needed to be said was usually spoken too late.

Загрузка...