The Ambassador's wife

a scrap of evidence, and you and I both know you don’t have any. Then, too, with the kind of friends I’ve got, it wouldn’t matter if somebody did believe you. I could fuck a donkey on the fifty yard line of the Super Bowl and nobody would ever admit they’d seen a thing.”

Tay watched DeSouza carefully, but he kept silent.

“So there you have it. I confess and you’re just going to have to sit there and do nothing about it. Just like I said, cuts your fucking heart out, doesn’t it?”

“I didn’t know people like you exist,” Tay said.

“You know people like me exist,” DeSouza snorted. “You probably even wish you were a little like me.”

“You’re mad.”

“No more than you, little man. Just in a different sort of way.”

Tay didn’t know what to say to that. He reached automatically for his matches and lit the cigarette in his mouth, cupping the match with his free hand so DeSouza wouldn’t see the flame shaking.

“Why did you kill them?” Tay heard a voice asking, a voice much like his own but yet not really his own.

“What do you care?”

“I’m a police officer. I care about the truth.”

As soon as he had spoken the words, Tay wanted them back. They sounded unbelievably detached, even priggish. What kind of a man was he? A man confesses to Tay that he murdered three women and what does he say to the man? I care about the truth.

Tay felt like he should be lunging across the room and smashing DeSouza’s fucking face in. Instead, he was just sitting there murmuring platitudes. A world already drowning in platitudes, and he has to add one more. I care about the truth. Maybe DeSouza was right. Maybe he was pathetic.

Tay cleared his throat. “Why did you kill them?” he repeated doggedly.

DeSouza tossed off a little shrug and his eyes drifted away. It was almost as if he had gone somewhere else for a moment, but then he returned and resumed his story.

“I went to the Marriott to fuck her, of course,” DeSouza said. “I had access to a security card and we used it to get in.

Tay waited.

“But she…” DeSouza shrugged. “I got a pair of plastic cuffs on her and held her down on the bed. One shot was all it took. She deserved it. She was a slut and she deserved it.”

“But why beat her after she was dead?”

DeSouza didn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t know what to say.

“Why did you pose her body that way?”

Now Tay thought DeSouza looked distinctly uncomfortable. Killing the women apparently didn’t bother him at all, but he appeared embarrassed at everything else he had done.

“She deserved it,” DeSouza said again after a while. “She deserved more than that.”

“Where did you get the flashlight?”

“It was in the table by the bed.”

There was a bling somewhere in the back of Tay’s mind. He wasn’t sure what had caused it, but in the silence it was almost audible.

“And then after you posed her you stripped the room?”

“I put her clothes into a laundry bag. Put the sheets and towels into another. Who notices a man leaving a hotel with two laundry bags?”

“What about Rooney?” Tay asked.

“The Marriott was too closely connected to the embassy. I needed to create a diversion or eventually somebody would start looking at the people in the embassy who had access to our safe houses in Singapore. I couldn’t be sure how that was going to work out.”

“You mean you killed Rooney just for a diversion, just to throw us off?”

“Yes.”

“But why her?”

“She was easy enough to set up. All I had to do was call her and say I had confidential information about the Munson killing. I needed somebody who was outside Singapore and somebody more important than Munson to take the heat off.” DeSouza hesitated. “I never liked the bitch anyway. Fucking high-and-mighty dyke.”

“You were the anonymous caller. You tipped off the Thai cops yourself, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I wanted the body discovered quickly. I wasn’t going to just wait around until it started to stink.”

Tay didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. After a few moments DeSouza began talking again anyway.

“I didn’t know exactly how it would all play. Maybe the terrorism thing, maybe a crazed sex killer preying on American women. Who knew? Either way, a dead ambassador in Bangkok would take the heat off a dead ambassador’s wife in Singapore. All the attention would shift to Rooney’s murder and Elizabeth Munson would be yesterday’s news. That was what mattered.”

“And that was why the two crime scenes were so much alike.”

“They were identical,” DeSouza snapped. “That was the whole idea.”

Bling. There was that sound in the back of Tay’s mind again.

“You shot Rooney and then beat her just for the effect?” Tay asked. “You displayed her body that way just to make us think the two crimes were done by the same person?”

“They were done by the same person. I just wanted to make sure you knew it.”

“But why kill Cally?”

“She’d worked some of it out. I wasn’t sure how much she knew, but she was getting too close. I couldn’t let her get any closer.”

“So you set her up. You lured her into a raid to take down a phony suspect and you killed her. Is that what happened?”

“Dadi wasn’t a phony suspect. Don’t you read the papers, Tay? Just before he died he confessed to killing both Munson and Rooney because of his undying hatred for the Great Satan and the sexual perversion of women.”

“Answer the fucking question. Did you kill Cally?”

“Yeah, I did. I shot her. Right in the head.”

DeSouza lifted his free hand. He made a little gun out of his thumb and forefinger and placed his finger against the center of his forehead.

“Bang,” he said, dropping the hammer.

A roaring sound filled Tay’s ears. He felt bile rising in his throat. All at once he was on his feet with his.38 out and pointed at DeSouza.

“What are you going to do with that little pop gun, Tay? You going to shoot me?”

Tay could hear the blood rushing in his head.

“You’re bluffing again. And it’s fucking pitiful.” DeSouza shook his head in disgust. “You’re not going to shoot me.”

“No, probably not.”

Then Tay lifted the muzzle of the revolver and gestured with it to the doorway behind DeSouza.

“On the other hand, he might.”

DeSouza didn’t want to look over his shoulder; he didn’t want to give Tay the satisfaction. But DeSouza saw the half-smile on Tay’s face and his curiosity got the better of him. He took a quick glance anyway.

John August stood in the doorway to DeSouza’s study. He had a revolver dangling from each hand. A very large one in his right and a very small one in his left.

“Did you hear all that, John?” Tay asked.

“Every word of it.”

DeSouza turned his head very slowly from August to Tay.

“So what’s this all about?” he asked. “You two lovers going to beat me up or something?”