fleck. Was that blood? She stared at it for a moment, then stood up.
A man was standing in the doorway.
Chapter 41
The man stepped out of the shadows, blocking the only way out. He was wearing a rain-drenched trench coat. Amanda raised the flashlight and retreated.
I' m not here to hurt you, the man said, raising an empty hand, palm outstretched. I' m Bobby Vasquez.
It took a moment, then Amanda recognized the intruder. Vasquez's face was fleshy. Rain dripped from his long, unkempt black hair; a bushy mustache covered his upper lip. Under the open raincoat Amanda could see faded jeans, a flannel shirt and a threadbare sports jacket.
I didn't mean to scare you, Vasquez told her. I tried to talk to you at the Justice Center, but I couldn't get close with all the reporters.
Vasquez paused. He saw that Amanda was frightened and wary.
Do you remember me? he asked.
The motion to suppress.
Not exactly my shining hour, Vasquez said grimly. But I was right about Cardoni. He killed those people in Milton County and he killed these people, too. You know it, don't you? That's why you're here.
Amanda forgot her fear. What makes you think he's alive?
Look at this place. When I read about the graveyard and the operating room, I knew.
What about the hand? Cardoni was a surgeon. He wouldn't cut off his hand.
Cardoni counted on everyone buying into that notion, that a surgeon would never amputate his own hand. But most surgeons aren't being hunted by a maniac like Martin Breach.
Or facing a death sentence.
That too. Plus, this guy is flat-out insane.
Amanda shook her head. I want to believe Cardoni did this. The crime scenes are so alike. But I always come back to the hand. How could he do it? How could he cut off his own hand?
It's not as difficult as you might think. Not for a doctor, anyway. I asked around. All Cardoni had to do was tie a tourniquet around his biceps and run an IV filled with anesthetic into his forearm. That would put his arm to sleep. He could amputate the hand without feeling a thing. After the hand was off he would have covered the stump with a sterile cloth until the bleeding stopped, then bandaged it and used more anesthetic to block the pain.
Amanda digested what Vasquez had said, then made a decision.
Okay, Mr. Vasquez, I'll level with you. I am here because of Cardoni.
I knew it! So tell me, what else was in the police reports? You're not just here on a hunch.
Amanda hesitated.
Look, Miss Jaffe, I can help you. Who knows more about Cardoni than I do? I never believed that he was dead. I still have my file on him. I know Cardoni's life story; I can tell you what the police knew four years ago. You'll need an investigator.
Our firm has an investigator.
This will just be another case for him. It's my chance at redemption. Cardoni ruined my life.
You ruined your own life, Amanda answered curtly.
Vasquez looked down. You're right. I have to take the blame for what I did. It took me a while to figure that out. Vasquez swung his arm across the operating room. I take the blame for this, too. If I hadn't screwed up, Cardoni would be in prison and these people would be alive. I've got to make this right. He paused. Besides, if we prove that Cardoni killed these people, your client goes free.
Vasquez sounded desperate and sincere. Amanda took a final look around the operating room.
Let's get out of here, she said. We'll talk upstairs.
Amanda pulled the cord attached to the lightbulb and plunged the makeshift operating room into darkness.
What can you tell me? Vasquez asked as they climbed the stairs. Are there other similarities between the crime scenes?
I don't think I should get into that.
You're right. Sorry. I' m just anxious. You have no idea how I felt when I saw Dr. Castle's name in the paper this morning and read about the operating room. All of a sudden there was hope that this nightmare might finally end.
Amanda turned off the basement light and shut the door behind her.
Look, Mr. Vasquez, let's be straight here, okay? I heard rumors about you after you were fired. My father heard them, too. If I ask my father to let you work with us on this case, he's going to want to know if you're reliable.
Vasquez looked as though he had been down this road before.
What do you want to know? He sighed.
What did you do after you were kicked off the force?
I drank. That's what you're after, right? Being a cop was my whole life. One moment I was and the next I wasn' t. I couldn't cope. There's a year and a half in there that's still very blurry. But I came out of it and I stopped drinking on my own. I don't drink anymore, not even a beer. Tell your father that I' m a licensed investigator. It's how I've been earning my living. I' m good at it, and believe it or not, there are still some people on the job who'll talk to me.
We'll have to see.
When you're thinking about hiring me, think about this. I've already got a jump on the cops.
What do you mean?
Four years ago I figured I' d nail Cardoni by tying him to the Milton County house. You know, get the deed, show he owned it. Only I couldn' t. He was very clever. The property was owned by a corporation, and the corporation was set up by a shady attorney named Walter Stoops, who was hired by someone he never met and paid in cashier's checks. The whole thing turned out to be a dead end, because we couldn't identify the person who purchased the cashier's checks. But it did establish an MO.
This morning, as soon as I read about the farmhouse, I went through the records for this property. Guess what I found?
The land is owned by a corporation and was purchased by a lawyer.
Bingo. The sale went through two years ago, which would give Cardoni enough time to set up a new identity and prepare for his return to Portland.
Is the purchaser the same corporation that bought the land in Milton County?
No. And the lawyer's different. But the MO's the same.
What makes you think you'll be able to prove who purchased the property this time?
I don't know that I can, but Cardoni screwed up four years ago and we almost got him. I' m hoping he'll screw up again.
Chapter 42
That night Amanda slept like the dead and through her alarm. It was too late for her morning calisthenics or breakfast, so she took a fast shower and picked up a latte and a piece of coffee cake to go. When she walked into her office at eight-thirty her father was sitting behind her desk reading through the file on Justine Castle. He looked up and smiled. Amanda froze in the doorway.
Good morning, Amanda.
You're supposed to be on vacation. What are you doing here? she asked, fighting to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
Didn't you think I' d be interested in your latest case?
I was sure you would be. That's why I left strict instructions that no one was to tell you about it if you called in.
No one did.
Then how did you find out?
It's in the California papers. Somebody figured out the connection to the Cardoni case and, presto, we've got another sensation on our hands. Did you check your phone messages?
Not yet.
