her pillow telling her husband she was 'Gone, But Not Forgotten'?'

Turner's arm fell to his side. His lips were dry. His gut was in a knot.

'it'll be me, WAYNE,' Grimsbo said, pulling out his service revolver and handing Nancy lake's weapon. 'You can leave the room if you want.

You can even remember it like it happened the way I said, because that's the way it will really have happened, if we all agree.'

'Jesus,' Turner said to himself. One hand was knotted into a fist, and the one holding the gun was squeezed so tight the metal cut into his palm.

'You can't kill me,' Lake gasped, the pain from his wound making it hard for him to speak.

'Shut the fuck up,' Grimsbo said, or I'll do you now.'

'They're not dead,' Lake managed, squeezing his eyes shut as a wave of nausea swept over him. 'The other women are still alive. Kill me and they'll die. Kill me and you kill them all.'

Governor Raymond Colby ducked the rotating helicopter blades and ran toward the waiting police car.

Larry Merrill, the governor's administrative assistant, leaped out after the governor and followed him across the runway. A stocky, red-haired man and a slender black man were standing next to the police car. The redhead opened the back door for Colby.

'John O'Malley, Governor. I'm the Hunter's Point police chief. This is Detective Wayne Turner. He's going to brief you. We have a very bad situation here.'

Governor Colby sat in the rear seat of the police car and Turner slid in beside him. When Merrill was in the front, O'Malley started toward Nancy Gordon's house.

'I don't know how much you've been told, Governor.'

'Start from the beginning, Detective Turner. I want to make certain I don't miss anything.'

'Women have been disappearing in Hunter's Point.

All married to professionals, childless. No sign of a struggle. With the first woman, we assumed we were dealing with a missing persons case. The only oddity was a note on the woman's pillow that said 'Gone, But Not Forgotten,' pinned down by a rose that had been dyed black.

We figured the wife left it. Then the second woman disappeared and we found an identical rose and note.

'After the fourth disappearance, all with notes and black roses, Sandra and Melody Lake were murdered.

Sandra was the wife of Peter Lake, whom I believe you know. Melody was his daughter.'

'That was tragic,' Colby said. 'Pete's been a supporter of mine for some time. I appointed him to a board last fall.'

'He killed them, Governor. He murdered his wife and daughter in cold blood. Then he framed a man named Henry Waters by bringing one of the kidnapped women to Waters's house, disemboweling her in Waters's basement, planting some roses and one of the notes in Waters's house and calling the police anonymously.'

It was four a.m. and pitch-black in the car, but Turner saw Colby blanch as the car passed a streetlight.

'Peter Lake killed Sandy and Melody?'

'Yes, sir.'

'I find that hard to believe.'

'What I'm going to tell you now is known only to Chief O'Malley, Detectives Frank Grimsbo and Nancy Gordon and me. The chief created a task force to deal with the disappearances. It consists of Gordon, Grimsbo and me, plus a forensic expert. We suspected Lake might be our killer, even after we found Patricia Cross's body at Waters's house, so we set him up. Gordon told Lake she suspected him but had kept the incriminating evidence to herself. Lake panicked, as we'd hoped he would. He broke into Gordon's house to kill her. She tricked him into admitting the killings. We wired her house and we have his confession on tape. Grimsbo and I were hiding and heard it all. We arrested Lake.'

'Then what's the problem?' Merrill asked.

'Three of the women are still alive. Barely. Lake's been keeping them on a starvation diet-he only feeds them once a week. He won't tell us when he fed them last or where they are unless the governor gives him a full pardon.'

'What?' Merrill asked incredulously. 'The governor's not going to pardon a mass murderer.'

'Can't you find them?' Colby asked. 'They must be in property Lake owns.

Have you searched them all?'

'Lake's made a good deal of money over the years.

He has vast real estate holdings. Most of them aren't in his name. We, don't have the manpower or time to find and search them all before the women starve.'

'Then I'll promise to pardon Peter. After he tells us where he's holding the women, you can arrest him. A contract entered into duress won't stand up.'

Merrill looked uncomfortable. 'I'm afraid it might, Ray. When I was with the U.S. attorney, we gave immunity to a contract killer for the mob in exchange for testimony against a higher-up. He said he was present when the hit was ordered, but he was in Las Vegas on the day the body was found. We checked out his story. He was registered at Caesars Palice.

Several other witnesses saw him eating at the casino. We gave him his deal, he testified, the higher-up was convicted, he walked. Then we found out he did the hit, but he did it at fifteen minutes before midnight, then flew to Vegas.

'We were furious. We rearrested him and indicted him for murder, but the judge threw out the indictment.

He ruled that everything the defendant told us was true.

We just didn't ask the right questions. I researched the hell out of the law on plea agreements trying to get the appellate court to rule for us.

No luck. Contract principles apply, but so does due process. If both sides enter into the agreement in good faith and the defendant performs, the courts are going to enforce the agreement. If you go into this with your eyes open, Ray, I think the pardon will stick.'

'Then I have no choice.'

'Yes, you do,' Merrill insisted. 'You tell him no deal.

You can't pardon a serial killer and expect to be reelected.

It's political suicide.'

'Damn it, Larry,' Colby snapped, 'how do you think people would react if they found out I let three women die to win an election?'

Raymond Colby opened the door to Nancy Gordon's bedroom. Frank Grimsbo was seated next to the door, holding his weapon, his eyes on the prisoner. The shades were drawn and the bed was still unmade. Peter Lake was handcuffed to a chair. His back was to the window.

No one had treated the cuts on Lake's face and the blood had dried, making him look like a badly defeated fighter.

Lake should have been scared. Instead, he looked like he was in charge of the situation.

'Thanks for coming, Ray.'

'What's going on, Pete? This is crazy. You murdered Sandy and Melody?'

'I I had to, Ray. I explained that to the police. You know I wouldn't have killed them if I had a choice.'

'That sweet little girl. How can you live with your self?'

Lake shrugged his shoulders. 'That's really beside the point, Ray. I'm not going to prison, and you're going to see to that'.'

'It's out of my hands, Pete. You killed three people.

You're morally responsible for Waters's death. I can't do anything for you.'

Lake smiled. 'Then why are you here?'

'To ask you to tell the police where you're keeping the other women.'

'No can do, Ray. My life depends on keeping the cops in the dark.'

'You'd let three innocent women die?'

Lake shrugged. 'Three dead, six dead. They can't punish me anymore after the first life sentence. I don't envy you, Ray. Believe me when I say that I wish I didn't have to put an old friend, whom I admire deeply, in this

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