“I know who he is,” Masuto said thoughtfully. “Getting him is another matter.”
Wainwright exploded. “What! Did I hear you right-you miserable slant-eyed pain in the ass? Did I actually hear you say you know who this murderous mother is, and you had the crust to sit here and hear me get my ass roasted by the mayor and the city manager?”
“I have always defended you as a non-racist,” Masuto said unhappily. “My eyes don’t actually slant, so it’s a kind of unhappy euphemism-”
“Goddamnit, I got excited! If you don’t know me by now-”
“Anyway, I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean, you’re not sure? A moment ago, you were sure.”
“Suppose I know who he is? That’s an inner knowledge, based on what you might call a smell of things. Where is my proof? Where is my evidence, motive?”
“Who is he?”
Masuto shook his head.
“Goddamn you, Masao, you played this game with me before. I want to know who he is!” Wainwright shouted.
“I could be wrong.”
“I’ve never known you to be wrong-not when you pull this kind of thing on me.”
“Give me until tonight. If I don’t bring him in tonight, I’ll give you whatever I’ve got, and you can take it from there.”
“Masao, don’t play this game with me. If you know who he is, we can take him and find the gun. The gun will tie him in.”
“He’s crazy, but madness is not synonymous with stupidity. You’re not dealing with a housebreaker or a mugger. If we take him now, we not only tip our hand, but we’ll have to turn him loose. And if that happens, he won’t make the one mistake that I think he’ll make sooner or later.”
“And how do you know he’ll make it now?”
“Because no one’s perfect and there are no perfect crimes. He made a whole series of errors, first with the eclairs, then with the candy, then with the kid and the chemist, killing again and again to cover his own blunders. He’s frightened and he’s in a hurry. That’s where he gave himself away. He was trapped in a moment in time, and he began to kill, and when I find that moment and find out why it trapped him, I’ve got him. Oh, he is very clever- but stupid at the same time. That’s the pathological part of him.”
“I wish I knew what in hell you’re talking about. I still want his name.”
“I can’t talk you out of that?”
“Not this time, Masao. If anything happens to one of those three women, on top of what has already happened, this whole damn department is going up in smoke.”
“If I give you his name,” Masuto said slowly, “will you give me twenty-four hours? Twenty-four hours before you turn it over to the L.A. cops, twenty-four hours before you pick him up and begin to grill him?”
“That would really be tying my hands, Masao.”
“No, sir. With all deference, that would be saving your neck. Because if you pick him up now, not only will his lawyer have him out of here in fifteen minutes, but he would slap this city with the biggest false arrest suit it ever entertained. And as you are fond of telling me, this is not downtown Pittsburgh. It’s Beverly Hills.”
Wainwright stared at him thoughtfully; then he nodded. “Okay. You got your twenty-four hours. Now give me the name.”
Masuto took a pad, scribbled the name, and then handed the bit of paper to Wainwright.
“I’ll be damned,” Wainwright said.
“I could be wrong. Remember that.”
“You’re wrong about one thing. I’d think twice before I pulled him in or handed his name over to the L.A. cops. I’d want to see some unshakable evidence.” He looked at the name again, then folded the slip of paper and put it in his pocket. “Maybe we’ll get lucky this time.”
10
Catherine Addison
Masuto picked up his phone and dialed the Crombie number. Mitzie Fuller answered. “Well,” she said, “if it isn’t Mr. Inscrutable himself! Do you know what I feel like? I feel like I’m under house arrest in a Banana republic. This is no life, Sergeant, and I don’t like ladies enough to spend the rest of my life in their company. Either you spring us or I’m going to bust out.”
“Give it until tonight,” Masuto said.
“Now if you’ll be our baby sitter, I might be able to relax and enjoy it.”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible right now. Please stay with it. Is Detective Beckman around?”
“He is always around. Only the bathrooms are safe from Detective Beckman’s prowling presence. I’ll call him.”
Beckman got on the phone and said, “Masao, these gals are driving me nuts. Also, the phone doesn’t stop. Every goddamn newspaper, TV station, and wire service in the world has been calling here. It’s one thing for me to say no comment. But these dames-they talk to their friends. So whatever stories get out, don’t blame me. I’m just the keeper. Outside in front, we got two TV cameras and crews, maybe six reporters, and a nice sprinkling of the public. Nothing like this ever happened before on Beverly Drive.”
“Just keep the doors locked. What about the picture?”
“You’re right. There isn’t a picture of the kid anywhere in the house. I mean a framed picture, or a picture on the wall, or one of those pictures you stand on a table or a piano.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. But let me tell you this. In Mrs. Crombie’s bedroom, I saw one of those big, classy leather- covered picture albums. I leafed through it, and, Masao, every picture in it is the daughter Kelly.”
“How do you know it’s Kelly?”
“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Unless there’s some other kid in Mrs. Crombie’s life. Oh, it’s the daughter, all right, and it starts with her as an infant and takes her right through, I guess until right before she died. If you want one of the pictures, I can slip it out. Who knows if she ever looks at the book.”
“No-not yet. I think I can get a picture somewhere else. Now look, keep those women inside.”
“I’ll try.”
Masuto was on his way out when Wainwright called after him. “Hold on a moment, Masao. One thing.”
“Yes?”
“Why does he have to kill all the women?”
“Then there’s no motive-or four motives.”
“You mean that cold-blooded bastard would kill four women just to lay down a smoke-screen?”
“He’s running scared and he has a lot to protect. He’s killed three people already. A man like that is totally without conscience or morality. He will kill a human being the way you or I might kill a fly. You read about that kind of thing. There was that fellow in Texas who killed eleven people. You just don’t look for it in a place like this.”
“Which one of the four is he after?”
“I’m not sure. I could guess, but I’m not sure.”
“Alice Greene?”
“I’m just not sure.”
“And you don’t think he’ll drop it now?”
“He can’t drop it. It has him by the throat.”
“Which is what worries me, Masao. If anything happens to one of those women, we’re in it up to our ears. At this point, I don’t give a damn about the cost. I can put four men around that house day and night.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not the problem. The problem is keeping them in the house. I’ll go down the line on the fact
