possibility of the Claw being the Claws. Dismissed.”
The room cleared quickly, leaving Rychman and Jessica alone. She said, “Sorry it went so badly.”
“ Oh, I don't think it went too badly,” he politely lied.
“ You're a terrible liar.”
“ When I wanna be, yeah.”
She shook her head, and her knuckles went white when she gripped her cane. “We completely confused your entire task force. It was a fiasco, admit it.”
“ They needed shaking up. Come on, you don't have to take this all on your shoulders, Jess.”
They had moved toward the door, and he turned off the light, leaving them in the dark, at close quarters. She could feel the strength and the heat coming off him as he nudged still closer, dipped his head downward and pressed his lips tenderly against hers. When he pulled away, he said, “I hope this is better than the elevator.”
“ You can't blame it on the wine this time,” she replied, reaching around his neck and kissing him in return.
Her cane slipped away and slapped against the floor with a crack that made her start.
Rychman felt her tremble under his touch, realizing she was teetering; he sensed that part of her wanted to give in to him, while another part wanted no romantic entanglements. He wisely let her go, lifted her cane and returned it to her, saying, “I hope we're still on for tonight.”
“ Tonight?”
“ The play? Dinner?”
“ Oh, I don't know, Alan.”
“ Come on, we both need to get some relief from this case, and what better way than an evening at the theater?”
She didn't readily answer. “Alan, there're a million things to do around here right now, and Dr. Darius and Archer can't do it alone, and-”
“ You've got a bad case of the ands, Doctor, and what is it they say? Physician, heal thyself?”
She smiled back at him. “Is that your prescription?”
“ Stop thinking in ands and show a little concern for your blood pressure, that's right.”
She knew it would be easy to become stressed-out if she chose to work at the lab tonight. And staying alone with her thoughts in her hotel room, uneasy about sleep for fear she'd return to the nightmares that featured Teach Matisak would be just as bad. With an expectant look into Alan's eyes, she finally replied, “What do you propose? Take an evening off and call you in the morning?”
“ Things'11 look a whole lot better in the morning,” he assured her, taking her hands in his. “Trust me.”
“ I want to, Alan, but-”
“ But what?”
“ I've… we've got important work to do here and to get involved in any but a professional relationship… well, it could jeopardize the investigation in ways neither of us can predict, and, and-”
“ There's those ands again. I told you it was a sickness. You're worrying about things that haven't happened and may not!”
“ And besides, there's just no future in our becoming romantically-”
He kissed her firmly yet gently, his passion once more getting the better of him. She felt her breath taken away and she returned his kiss. When they parted, he said simply, “We'll just see the play, have dinner. Anything else will be up to you.”
She laughed lightly. “I guess I do have a bad case of the ands. Maybe you're right. Maybe I do need a little time to call my own. Although I don't believe my boss at Quantico would understand.”
“ Is that an acceptance?”
She put her hands to her temples and said, “Yes and yes.”
It was getting very late, but Dr. Luther Darius was driven, refusing all overtures from his associate, Dr. Simon Archer, to vacate the lab and relent. First there was the double autopsy of the day before, and then a re- examination of the Hamner cadaver, and now personally overseeing every aspect of the laboratory follow-up work on Olin and Phillips. It was too much for any man, but when Simon Archer asked him if he didn't need rest, the old man told Archer that he planned to push himself further by re-examining all earlier evidence-taking that'd accompanied the various Claw-case autopsies.
“ Searching for what?”
“ Any iota of evidence that may've been missed either by Perkins, you, Dr. Coran or myself.”
By now everyone in the lab understood that Darius was obsessing, and that although Archer'd been of great help, assisting in the re-examinations of the Olin and Hamner cadavers, they'd found nothing further. During their close work on the now wooden and grisly Hamner corpse, Darius confided much in Archer, and told him, “Somewhere along the way we've all missed some vital clue. This macabre poem we found wadded up inside the Phillips woman is just the tip of the iceberg, Simon.” Coran had since explained the nature of the communication to Darius. “Dr. Coran believes the killer to be not one but two people, and coincidentally, I have held the same suspicion for some time myself.”
“ I find it all rather doubtful, given the facts,” Archer said.
Still, Darius insisted they comb back through every shred and fiber of evidence with the exactitude he was famous for before his recent illness and bouts with depression and alcohol.
“ You forget, sir, that in your absence during your illness, I've been in charge, and… well… I've found nothing to point to two perpetrators. In fact, all the evidence points to a single individual.”
Darius bit at the inside of his cheek, deep in thought. “Yes… yes, well… of course, Simon… you may well be proven correct.”
“ I'm sure, sir, that I will be, and I am anxious for Dr. Coran's people at the FBI to fully corroborate my findings.”
“ We shall see, Dr. Archer. As for now… would you please close her up and see to final dispensation of Miss Olin here?”
Archer, ever the faithful associate, said, “Of course, sir. I think you may have overtaxed yourself. Dr. Darius. You'd best get a car home.”
“ I can remember a time I could have done four or five autopsies in a twenty-four-hour period; God, when your stamina goes, Simon, it's a horrible thing. Your mind is as fully functional and alive as when you were twenty, but your body begins to resist what your mind tells it to do.”
“ I'm sorry for your… difficulties. Dr. Darius. I take it your doctor's advice hasn't-”
“ Isn't worth a damn, Simon.” Archer smiled and waved him off, Darius hobbling from the area, his body racked with pain.
Alone, Dr. Darius now sat on a bench in the changing room before the locker he had used for so many years, trying to regain enough strength to get himself home. Finally he stood and opened his locker. He began to pull off his green surgeon's shirt, and in doing so, felt as if he were being watched. He saw the eyeless head of Mrs. Hamner staring down from the top tray of his locker.
Darius, shocked, backed into the bench, fell over it and knocked his head against a locker, sending him into unconsciousness.
Darius was found this way by a passing attendant. Medics were called and he was rushed to the hospital, his forehead bleeding.
He woke up in a hospital bed with an IV unit strung over his head, trying to recall what had happened. Then he remembered the black holes staring at him from the head that had been placed in his locker. Or had it materialized out of delirium tremens? He had gone for several days without a drop of liquor and his nerves had been shot as a result of the double autopsy and the way he'd been pushing himself on the Claw case. Maybe he had just imagined Mrs. Hamner's eyeless, severed head there in his locker. Maybe he was going crazy with all the stress that had been placed on him. They couldn't leave him to die in peace? No, the mayor and the C.P. had to push him into this hideous case, likely the final hideous case of his career.
When the doctors had told him about the cancer atop his heart condition, and how short the remainder of his life would be, he had taken to drinking heavily and secretly. So far, only a few need-to-knows had been informed and even these people only knew that half of it. But now all his secrets might surface.
He lay gasping, wondering how he could get a drink. His every nerve felt like brittle paper about to snap. He
