Roses Are Red

Chapter One Hundred and Eight

On Monday morning I went to work at Hazelwood again. I was outfitted in an overhanging white shirt and corduroy pants that were loose enough to hide the holster strapped on to my leg. An FBI agent named Jack Waterhouse had been added to the staff as an aide. Sampson continued on as a porter, but he was working only on Five now.

Frederic Szabo proceeded to do nothing to attract suspicion or reveal himself in any way. For three days straight, he never left the ward. He slept a lot in his room. He occasionally worked on an old Apple laptop.

What the hell was he doing? Did he know we were watching him?

Late on Wednesday after the work shift, I met up with Betsey inside the hospital's administration building. She had on a navy-blue suit and blue sling back heels, and she was all business again. She almost seemed like another person at times, preoccupied and distant.

She was clearly as frustrated as I was," He worked on his master plan for at least three years, right? Presumably, he has fifteen million dollars stashed somewhere. He's killed a lot of people to get it. Now he's sitting on his ass at Hazelwood? Give me a break!"

I told her what I thought about Szabo. "He's extremely paranoid. He's psychopathic. He may even know we're here. Maybe we should pull back from the hospital. Do surveillance from the outside. He has his full grounds and town privileges back from Dr. Cioffi. Szabo can come and go as he likes."

While I talked, Betsey kept pulling at the lapels of her blazer. I was afraid she might start pulling out her hair next.

"But he doesn't go anywhere! He's a fifty-year-old slacker! He's a total loser!"

"Betsey, I know. I've been watching Szabo sleep and play games on the Internet for three days."

She snorted out a laugh. "So he's pulled off five perfect crimes that we know of. And now he's retiring to the farm."

"Yeah. The funny farm," I said.

"Want to hear about my day?" she finally asked.

I nodded.

"Well, I visited First Union and I talked with everyone I could find who was there when Szabo was at the bank. He was considered very "dedicated," actually. But he was wound tight about efficiency and doing the right thing in exactly the right way. Some of the others used it to mock him."

"Mock him in what way?" I asked.

"Szabo had a nickname, Alex. Get this it was the Mastermind! The name was a joke. It was supposed to be a joke on Szabo."

"Well, I guess he's turned the joke around. Now the joke is on us."