The Tower

Chapter 30

Well rested after a comfortable night's sleep in the Mercedes, Allander whistled the first motif of the Jupiter symphony as he emerged from the alley and walked past the broken-down machinery that littered the grounds. The blue of his shirt was resplendent against the dreary colors of the deserted lot.

A DANGER DO NOT ENTER sign lay in a patch of weeds by the side of the gate, and Allander picked it up, admiring it in the waning sunlight. He wedged its corners between the links of the fence, then smacked his hands together to rid them of dust.

Having whistled his way well into the recapitulation, he turned and headed toward the bus station.

Jade began the next morning by carefully studying the photographs from the first crime scene. He sat on his couch in the middle of his living room, chewing ice from a cup that he rested against his crotch.

The room was becoming cluttered as Jade collected more background information. He had stacked books on the glass table in front of him, and the files he had gotten from the FBI were piled up everywhere. It seemed as if the first one had reproduced, spawning an extended family. Now files littered the floor and the couch, many of them opened to important pages.

Jade was trying to hold all the material in his head, but it was difficult. There was just too much to absorb-audiotapes of Allander's psychological interviews, videotapes of his trial and old crime scenes, photographs of Allander, jail records, psychology reports, and victim profiles and photographs.

Once Jade had reviewed a photograph carefully, he taped it to the wall. The first photograph in the upper-left-hand corner was Allander's mug shot at age eighteen. The rest of the photos progressed in a more or less chronological order: Allander through the years, his victims through the years. His killing pace had slowed when he went to prison, but still his victim count rose steadily-here another prisoner, there a guard.

Jade looked at the files, books, and photos spread out around him and closed his eyes. What was Allander proving? What was the pattern of his pleasure? And most important, what was his weakness?

The phone rang and Jade snatched it off the hook.

"What."

"I got a good one. In light of your case and all," Tony said. "Okay. This guy comes home, finds his girlfriend packing. He's shocked. He says, 'What's going on? What are you doing?' Girlfriend says, 'I'm leaving you.' He says, 'You're leaving me? Why?' She says, 'Because you're a pedophile.' 'Yeah, yeah,' he says. 'Big word for a nine-year-old.' "

Jade laughed, tilting his head back. "You're a sick fuck, Razzoni."

"Thank you, thank you," Tony said. "And how's the case heard 'round the world?"

"Gonna have my hands full. I think we have a serial."

Tony whistled. "Well, I knew he was a killer of serial killers-he got three in the Tower, didn't he?"

"Five."

"I just thought little kids were more his speed."

"Well, he's progressed. Those years in prison helped him evolve. We had a scene last night that looks like it could be the first in a string. Time will tell, though. Press blackout, so keep a lid on it."

"Consider me lidded. Just wanted to check in, make sure you're not howling at the moon or anything."

"Not yet, but I'll let you know." Jade hung up the phone, then stood and circled the living room, staring at the pictures on the walls.

Heading back to the couch, he stretched out so that his legs were sticking up in the air over the back of the sofa, and his head was slanted off the seat. He picked up Introductory Lectures on Psycho-Analysis and began to read intently.

It had been years since he'd read Freud. Most of the psychology he kept up with was much more practical, but if the prison records showed that Allander had read it, he had to at least review it. He needed to get inside Allander's head so he could use his own thoughts against him.

The ring of the doorbell startled him. Shifting his weight, he twisted awkwardly, landing with a crash on the floor. Rising sheepishly, he went to answer the door.

"Hope you didn't hurt yourself," Agent Travers said as she brushed past Jade into the room. "I know how difficult answering the door can be."

"Only when you're behind it."

Reaching the center of the living room, she stopped and looked about her, admiring Jade's intensity-intensity so great it led him to transform an entire room into a virtual shrine to the man he was hunting.

"Love what you've done with the place." She glanced at the stack of books on the table. "Learning to read?"

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Your patience runs out quickly."

"I'm gonna run you out quickly."

She stuck her bottom lip out in a mock pout. "Now we wouldn't want that to happen," she said, sinking into a chair. "Then you'd be denied the afternoon with me."

"Look, Agent Travers-"

"Cut the shit, Jade. You can call me Jennifer."

"Fine. I'm in the middle of something here, Travers, and I don't have time to-"

"Oh please. You think I stopped by on a social visit? There are files to go over, and-"

"I've already been over all of them. I don't need your help, and I don't have to help you. It's not in the deal."

"'It's not in the deal,'" she repeated, mimicking him. "For Christ's sake, you sound like a ten-year-old."

Jade bit his lip as he looked at her, then he laughed and fell back on the sofa. "Fine. You got a half hour. Then I have some business to take care of."

They were silent for a few moments, staring at each other.

"I got him pegged as a classic DSM-IV antisocial personality disorder, but it's really hard to define him neatly," she finally said, moving to sit on the floor.

"What's that give us?" Jade asked.

"Lacking empathy, social responsibility, conventional morality. Displaying impulsiveness, abusiveness, sensation-seeking, and sometimes showing charm and seductiveness."

Charm and seductiveness, Jade thought. Allander had sounded very captivating on some of the tapes. He had argued several of the psychologists to a standstill without ever raising his voice or using rude language. He'd just overpowered them with intelligence.

"Sounds like a pretty good fit, but I'd imagine he's also got some form of anxiety driving him, maybe a simple phobia. The combination means it won't be long until his next strike."

"Unless he flees."

"He's not going to flee," Jade said. "I can feel it. The timing of his prison break, the method of his killings-everything indicates he's playing out a fantasy."

"What's with the timing?" Travers asked.

"He's thirty-three. Guess how old his molester was?"

"Oh God."

"Thirty-three. All this has been brewing inside him for a while. He's not roaming too far."

"But why here? Why can't he play out his fantasy anywhere?"

"Because serial killers usually confine themselves to one geographic area."

"We don't know that he's definitely a serial killer," she said in a neutral tone.

Jade raised his eyebrows and gave her a disbelieving stare.

"Sorry," she said. "I've been dealing with McGuire all day."

"The Federal Bureau of Procrastination. Don't act on a hunch unless it's proven beforehand," Jade said disdainfully.

"Why did you join, then?"

"Welding school was full that week." He glanced at the files. "Look, are we gonna get down to business here? We both know he'll kill again, and probably soon. It's a game for him; it's up to us to figure out the pattern. He's choosing his victims to fulfill some symbolic equation he's worked out in his head. We gotta get into that game. Into his head."

"What's the deal with 'S N E'?" Travers asked. "We ran it through the computer as initials of friends, relatives, prisonmates, everything. Came up empty."

Jade shook his head. "I don't know. Could be a red herring. Also could just be something that only has relevance to him. Fuck it for now. Let's start with the kid. What'd she say?"

Jennifer leaned back against the sofa, her white oxford-cloth shirt loosely untucked. Jade caught himself staring down at the line of tan flesh that led to the curve of her breasts. He blinked hard and focused on what she was saying.

"Leah blocked out a lot of what he said to her. It was so close to the trauma I didn't want to push her. Evidently, he lectured them. She said it was like her teacher at school. I guess he raved about the law, parents, and teachers."

Jade heard Allander's voice inside his head: He must be spoken to if he's not going to be protected. He had spoken to the kids, just as Jade had thought. "All forms of authority, huh?" he said.

"And hierarchy," Travers added. "I think he's still trying to get in touch with what he's all about. The children were just passive observers. Leah said it was as if he didn't really notice they were there at all."

"His game right now is power. He's testing us, testing himself. He didn't find the kids threatening. They weren't a challenge. Too young. I say he kills anyone who's gone through puberty."

They sat for a moment in silence.

"Well, how does that help us?" Travers asked.

"The more we understand him, the closer it brings us to him."

"At the scene, it sounded like you thought he was next to invincible."

"Not invincible. Just intelligent. I hate to see criminals simplified. It's dismissive."

"So where do we start?"

"With his weaknesses."

"It sounded like you didn't think he had any."

"No. That's not true. You can see his fear in his anger. He went after the parents. Why? You can argue that these were murders of opportunity. He didn't plan how he was going to kill them; he picked up the weapons right at the site. This was especially true of the woman. Totally spontaneous. I bet she scared him. But!" He held up a finger. "Look what he does with the bodies afterward. He studies them. He defaces them. He poses them."

"He's sadistic."

"Sure, but he puts out the eyes after death. It's more about possession. He's working through an advanced sexual fantasy here, one that's taken him years to develop. He does have a weakness-he's scared of the woman."

"How do you know?"

"The man he kills to get in. But then he's alone in the bedroom with a woman. What does he do? He kills her right away. As quickly as he can. With the hammer. His concern is to render her motionless as quickly as possible. He could have kept her alive and played with her."

Travers looked at him, her unease showing. It must be harder as a woman, Jade thought. It was her choice, though. He couldn't work with her on this if he had to temper his language.

"I bet they don't find any semen in her," he said. He picked up his cup, tilted it back, and shook it. A piece of ice slid into his mouth and he crunched it loudly.

Travers looked impressed. "I just got off the phone with forensics," she said. "They didn't."

"No rape. He can't do it. Wishes he could, though. He has a lot of sexual insecurity. Just wants her unconscious."

"But he did show remorse," Travers said. "The posing of the bodies."

"I don't think so. Remorseful killers usually cover the faces."

"But not always."

"But not always," Jade agreed. "I just don't think it fits. I think the positioning of the bodies mocks what he perceives to be the parents' hypocrisy. He left them as he sees them: blind to the truth, but going through the motions as if everything's all right."

"Let's talk about Allander's parents."

"No serial killer's profile is complete without them."

"Abusive, neglecting, violent?"

"Kind, normal, healthy," Jade said.

"That's a first."

"Literally."

"What gives? Does it all have to do with his molester?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

Jade crunched another piece of ice and spat it back out into the cup. "I think he's just fucked."

"That's your professional opinion?"

Jade nodded. "I think he was fucked before that even happened. I think the problem was already there; the molester just brought it to life."

He glanced at his watch. "I'm heading up to Ressler to interview the prison shrink."

Travers was quiet.

"I guess you can come," he said. "Just try not to talk too much."

"Won't be hard with you around."