Beery's antics, seen so often before and in that same exact detail, was like a balm on his troubled mind.
At five minutes past eleven the telephone rang.
He finally answered it, declined to do a press interview, and hung up.
At eleven-twenty-six it rang again.
This time it was the insurance agent with whom the Merchants' Association had taken out a year's policy on the Mustang. He wanted to know if the coverage was adequate or whether Chase would like to increase it for a nominal sum. He was chatty at first but less so when Chase said that the coverage was adequate.
At eleven-fifty the phone rang a third time. When Chase answered, the killer said, 'Hello, how has your morning been?' His voice was hoarse, hardly louder than a whisper.
'Not good.'
'Did you see the papers?'
'One.'
'Lovely coverage.'
Chase said nothing.
The man said, 'Most people want fame.'
'Not me.'
'Some people would kill for it.'
'You?'
'I'm not after fame,' said the killer.
'What are you after?'
'Meaning, purpose.'
'There is none.'
The killer was silent. Then: 'You're a strange egg, Mr. Chase.'
Chase relied on silence.
'Be by your phone at six o'clock this evening, Mr. Chase. It's important.'
'I'm tired of this.'
'You're tired? I'm doing all the work here. I've spent the morning researching your background, and I have similar plans for the afternoon. At six I'll tell you what I've found.'
Chase said, 'Why?'
'I can't very well pass judgment on you until I know what sort of transgressions you're guilty of, can I?' Under the pervading wheeze of protesting vocal cords lay a trace of the amusement that Chase had previously noticed. 'You see, I didn't randomly select which fornicators I would punish up on Kanackaway.'
'You didn't?'
'No, I researched the situation. I went up there every night for two weeks and copied license-plate numbers. Then I matched them until I found the one most often repeated.'
'Why?'
'To discover the most deserving sinners,' the stranger said. 'In this state, for two dollars, the Bureau of Motor Vehicles will trace a license number for you. I had that done and learned the identity of the boy who owned the car. From there it was a simple matter to investigate his background and to learn the name of his partner in these activities.' The formality of his speech led him into odd locutions — or evasions. 'She wasn't the only young woman he entertained on Kanackaway, even though she thought he was seeing no one else. She had her own promiscuous affairs too. I followed her twice when other boys picked her up, and one of those times she gave herself to the date.'
'Why don't you just stay home and watch old movies?' Chase wondered.
'What?'
'Or seek counseling.'
'I'm not in need of counseling. This sick world is in need of counseling. The world, not me.' His anger sent him into another coughing fit. Then: 'They were both sluts, the boy as well as the girl. They deserved what they got — except she didn't get hers, thanks to you.'
Chase waited.
The man said, 'You see, I must research you as thoroughly as I did those two. Otherwise, I would never be sure if you deserved the judgment of death or whether I'd eliminated you simply because you'd interfered with my plans and I wanted revenge. In short, I'm not killing people. I'm executing those who deserve it.'
Chase said, 'I don't want you calling here again.'
'Yes, you do.'
Chase didn't reply.
'I'm your motivation,' said the killer.
'My motivation?'
'There's a destiny here.'
'My motivation to do what?'
'That,' said the killer, 'is for you to decide.'
'I'll have the line bugged.'
'That won't stop me,' the stranger said, again amused. 'I'll simply place the phone calls from various booths around the city, and I'll keep them too short to trace.'
'If I refuse to answer my phone?'
'You'll answer it. Six o'clock this evening,' he reminded Chase, and he hung up.
Chase dropped the receiver, uneasily aware that the killer knew him better than he knew himself. He would answer every time, of course. And for the same reasons that he had answered all the nuisance calls of the last few weeks rather than obtain an unlisted number. The only problem was that he didn't know just what those reasons were.
Impulsively, he lifted the receiver and placed a call to the police headquarters downtown. It was the first time in ten and a half months that he had initiated a call.
When the desk sergeant answered, Chase asked for Detective Wallace.
Wallace came on the line a moment later. 'Yes, Mr. Chase, can I help you?'
Chase didn't mention the calls from the killer — which had been why he thought he'd phoned Wallace. Instead he asked, 'How's the investigation coming along?'
Wallace was not averse to talking shop. 'Slowly but surely. We found prints on the knife. If he's ever been arrested for a serious crime or worked for any branch of government, we'll have him soon.'
'And if he's never been printed?'
Wallace said, 'We'll get him anyway. We found a man's ring in the Chevy. It didn't belong to the dead boy, and it looks as if it would be too small for your fingers by a size or three. Didn't lose a ring, did you?'
'No,' Chase said.
'I thought so. Should have called you on it, but I was pretty sure about it. It's his, right enough.'
'Anything else besides the prints and ring?'
'We're keeping a constant watch on the girl and her parents, though I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything about that to anyone.'
'You think he might try for her?'
'Maybe. If he thinks she can identify him. You know, it's occurred to me that we wouldn't be far off if we gave you a tail as well. Have you thought of that?'
Alarmed out of proportion by the suggestion, Chase said, 'No. I don't see what value that would have.'
'Well, the story was in the papers this morning. He probably doesn't fear you identifying him as much as he does the girl, but he might bear a grudge against you.'
'Grudge? He'd have to be nuts.'
Wallace laughed. 'Well, if not nuts, what is he?'
'You mean you've found no motives from questioning the girl, no old lovers who might have-'
'No,' Wallace said. 'Right now we're operating on the assumption there's no rational motive, that he's psychotic.'
'I see.'
'Well,' Wallace said, 'I'm sorry there isn't more solid news.'
