speak. The truth is we may never know what’s been stoking Huggler’s engine.”
Milo said, “V-State closes, mentor follows mentee, mentee finally gets out, mentor turns him into a lethal weapon. That’s your layer two?”
I nodded. “A weapon aimed at people who anger each or both of them. Pitty might not want to soil his own hands but if he’s the brittle, power-craving narcissist I think he is, he’d crave payback for slights the rest of us would shrug off.”
Petra said, “Are we talking something sexual between the two of them?”
“Maybe but not necessarily. It’s possible neither of them has anything close to a conventional sex life.”
“People irk me,” Milo said, “I sic Lil Buddy at them and they become anatomy projects.”
I said, “And Lil Buddy loves the assignment. That’s layer three: a perfect partnership that satisfies both of their needs. Let’s start with Vita Berlin: obnoxious, combative, spreading misery wherever she went. Like most bullies she had a keen sense about who’d make a safe victim and the man she knew as Dr. Shacker seemed perfect: physically unprepossessing, outwardly mild, and a psychologist-we’re expected to be patient, nonjudgmental. Think of the movies you’ve seen about therapists: Most show them as absentminded wimps. Vita may have been forced into sessions with the little wuss in order to collect her insurance settlement but she was damn sure going to have fun along the way. Right from the start she resisted, needled him, finally came out and let him know she thought he was a charlatan. Unfortunately for her, he’s anything but nonjudgmental. I wouldn’t be surprised if the death sentence was passed the moment the words left her mouth.”
“Call in Huggler,” said Milo. “Easy hit because fake-o-Shacker had her address, phone number, knew what she looked like.”
I said, “And despite her resistance she might’ve given out some personal details during the evaluation that also made stalking her easier. Huggler was spotted lurking near her garbage cans. My guess is he went through them, found her empties, knew she was a serious solitary drinker. If he found pizza boxes, that would also have helped set up the kill. In general, her routine was easy to learn because she rarely went out except for shopping and occasional meals at Bijou.”
“Think Pitty was in on the kill?”
“It’s possible he held a gun on the victims, served as a lookout. Two actors would explain no sign of struggle, even from someone as aggressive as Vita.”
Petra said, “The pizza box ruse was still a gamble, given Vita’s temper. What if she was sober enough to make a ruckus?”
I said, “ ‘Oops, gee sorry, ma’am, wrong address.’ Huggler leaves and they wait for a second chance.”
Milo said, “Eccles snoozing in the alley would’ve been a piece of cake. Same for Quigg.”
Petra said, “If we’re right about Quigg, he’d have been the major target-the person to blame for everything bad that happened to Huggler. With that kind of rage, why wait five years to get him?”
“Maybe there were other targets just as important-like Shacker-and they’re going down a list.”
Milo said, “Like the doc who actually did the throat-cutting.”
“Oh,” I said.
They looked at me.
“Huggler was busted for trespassing behind a medical office. The police assumed he was about to break in and steal dope. But what if Huggler had a more personal connection to the doctor?”
Milo said, “Stalking the surgeon. Problem with that is the arrest was in Morro Bay and Huggler’s surgery took place a hundred miles away in Camarillo.”
“People move.”
“The same surgeon just happened to live near two hospitals where Huggler was confined?”
I thought about that. “Maybe Huggler was taken to that particular surgeon because of an arrangement with V-State-some sort of consultancy. When V-State closed the guy went for the same thing at Atascadero.”
Petra said, “A guy who couldn’t make it in private practice. Maybe he had his own issues.”
I said, “Obviously, he had ethical issues.”
“Going for government dole,” said Milo. “I guess anything’s possible.”
She produced her iPhone, poked and scrolled.
Milo said, “What’s on that?”
“My notes.”
“You’re totally digital?”
“I copy stuff from the murder book so I can follow up at home… here we go. Huggler was busted at Bayview Surgical Group of San Luis Obispo County. It’s the right specialty, isn’t it?”
We shifted to my office and I ran a search on Bayview, found no current listings. But a four-year-old item from a San Luis Obispo TV station featured the disappearance of “local surgeon Dr. Louis Wainright, staff member of Bayview Surgical Group. Wainright, 54, was last seen hiking in the foothills above San Luis Obispo with his dog 11 days ago. The doctor’s SUV was found in a park service lot but neither he nor his German shorthaired pointer Ned has been seen since.”
Additional hits on the disappearance described futile searches conducted by law enforcement and a cadre of Eagle Scouts. A picture of Wainright showed him grim, gray-haired, and bearded with a strong jaw and outdoor skin.
“Dr. Hemingway,” said Petra. “Walking with his dog, just like Quigg. And our boy has a thing for animals.”
Milo said, “Let’s make sure Wainright didn’t eventually show up.”
He phoned the Morro Bay Police Department. A desk officer named Lucchese remembered Wainright because the surgeon had once removed a fatty tumor from his back.
“Good surgeon?”
“Not really,” said Lucchese. “Left me a lump scar. No bedside manner, either, just get in there and slice. Only reason I used him is he had a contract with the union.”
“Any theories about what happened to him?”
“That was some pretty rough terrain he was climbing. Best guess is he broke a leg or fainted or had a heart attack or a stroke or whatever, lay there without anyone noticing and either died outright or from dehydration or hypothermia. Eventually he probably got taken care of by mountain lions or kye-oats or both.”
“Human suspects were never on the radar?”
“No reason for them to be. Why’s this interest you, Lieutenant?”
“A former patient of Wainright’s is a suspect in a killing down here.”
“That so. Who?”
“Former inmate at Ventura State in Camarillo, back when Wainright worked there.”
“A nutter? We got plenty of those over at Atascadero and I guess one of them could’ve known Wainright from there. But those guys never get out, they’re the least of our problems.” He chuckled. “Best therapy: Lock ’em up and toss the key.”
“Wainright worked at Atascadero?”
“Part-time,” said Lucchese. “Guess he had a contract there, too. But there were no escapes around the time he went missing, no alerts, nothing. I’ll ask around for you but I won’t learn anything.”
Milo thanked him and clicked off.
Petra said, “Oh, my.”
I said, “Shacker was first, then as soon as Huggler got out, they went after Wainright. The trespassing bust delayed but didn’t deter them. A year later, Wainright was dispatched.”
“Easy to stalk the guy while he hiked,” said Milo. “Why would he fear a vengeful patient from almost twenty years before?”
“Even Huggler’s arrest wouldn’t have alerted him. If he even remembered-or knew-Huggler’s name. Morro Bay PD figured Huggler for an addict out to score, no reason to I.D. him to Wainright after they picked him up. Even if they had, why would Wainright connect a grown man to a kid he’d operated on years before?”
“Surgeon becomes patient,” said Petra. “God, how many others are out there?”
Milo said, “If Huggler and his mentor could wait to handle Wainright and Quigg and whoever else they might’ve done in between, why’d Shacker have to go right away?”
I said, “Shacker was a solo act by Pitty so Pitty could prove himself to Huggler and cement their bond. For
