appetite. So he faked the meal.'
'Why bother to fake it?'
'Simple. He wanted to leave no doubt about who killed her.
Wanted us to think it was the Butcher.'
Preduski was suddenly aware of how precisely Enderby's necktie had been
knotted. He touched his own tie self-consciously. 'Pardon me.
Excuse me. I don't quite understand. My fault. God knows. But, you
see, we've never told the newspapers about the scene in the kitchens.
We've held that back to check false confessions against real ones. If
this guy, Butcher number two, wanted to imitate the real Butcher, how
would he know about the kitchen?'
'You're missing my point.'
'I'm sure I am.'
'Butcher number one and Butcher number two know each other.
They're in this together.'
Amazed, Preduski said, 'They're friends? You mean they-go out and
murder-like other men go out bowling? '
'I wouldn't put it like that.'
'They're killing women, trying to make it look like the work of one
man?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
'Don't know. Maybe they're creating a composite character in the
Butcher. Giving us an image of a killer that isn't really like either
of them. Throw us off the track. Protect themselves.'
Preduski started to pace in front of the littered table. 'Two
psychopaths meet in a bar-'
'Not necessarily a bar.'
'They get chummy and sign a pact to kill all the women in Manhattan.'
'Not all,' Enderby said. 'But enough.'
'I'm sorry. Maybe I'm not very bright. I'm not well educated.
Not a doctor like you. But I can't swallow it. I can't see psychopaths
working together so smoothly and effectively.'
'Why not? Remember the Tate murders in California? There were
several psychopaths in the Manson family, yet they all worked smoothly
and efficiently together, committing a large number of murders.'
'They were caught,' Preduski said.
'Not for quite some time.'
business offices occupied the thirty-first floor of the Bowerton
Building. Graham and Connie tried a few doors, all of which proved to
be locked. They knew the others would be shut tight as well.
However, in the main hall near the elevator alcove, Connie discovered an
unmarked, unlocked door. She opened it. Graham felt for the light
switch, found it. They went inside.
The room was approximately ten feet deep and six or seven feet wide. On
the left was a metal door that had been painted bright red; and to one
side of the dour, mops and brooms and brushes were racked on the wall.
On the right, the wall was lined with metal storage shelves full of
bathroom and cleaning supplies.
