because he didn’t want to once again face his own failure.”
“Weeks was a womanizer.”
“Or he enjoyed sex,” Dix said. “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”
“If his first wife is correct, it was obsessive.”
“If so, maybe it was the fertility issue. Maybe he hated women. Maybe he loved them. Maybe he was trying to recreate the relationship with his mother. Maybe he was asserting his manhood for reasons unrelated to fertility. Maybe he was avenging himself on a wife. Maybe it was an interactive cluster of those things, or things we don’t even imagine.”
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H I G H P R O F I L E
“Do I hear you saying we don’t know why Weeks was a womanizer?” Jesse said.
“You do,” Dix said. “Like many shrinks, I do better with one patient at a time with whom I have regularly spent time.”
“How disappointing,” Jesse said.
“Think how I feel,” Dix said.
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29
You’re back,” Jesse said when Suitcase Simpson came into his office.
“Been eating a lot of crab cakes,” Suit said.
“They do that in Baltimore. Drink a little National Bo with the crab cakes?”
“Only while off duty,” Suit said.
He saluted with three fingers, like a Boy Scout. Jesse thought Suit seemed very pleased with himself.
“Do anything else?” Jesse said.
“I found Bonnie Faison,” Suit said.
“Really?” Jesse said.
H I G H P R O F I L E
“Yep. Wasn’t easy. But for a man with my crime detection instincts . . .”
“Was she still at the last address they had for her?” Jesse said.
“Yep. That Baltimore County cop went over with me.”
“Sergeant Franks,” Jesse said.
“Yeah, him,” Suit said. “She’s at the same place. She’s almost forty, got two kids and no husband, lives with her mother.”
“Sounds great,” Jesse said.
“Yeah. I don’t think anyone’s happy about it,” Suit said.
“But there they are. Three-bedroom ranch, yard about the size of a pool table. Some sort of inbred dog looks like a hyena.”
