Bad Love

have been?'

'Probably some med student with a Mensa membership. SDI stands for Seminal Depository and Inventory.'

'A sperm bank?'

'This particular one claims to screen its donors for both brains and brawn.'

'Designer babies,' I said. 'Yeah, I can see Katarina going for something like that. Artificial insemination would give her total control over the child rearing, no emotional entanglements… At five months she'd probably be showing. That's why the killer concentrated on her belly- focused his anger there. Wiping out de Bosch's line.'

He frowned.

I said, 'Maybe the sperm bank's card was chosen for the message for that same reason. The way it was pinned under the murder weapon was deliberate- setting the scene. It's all a big ritual for him.'

The waitress brought the food. A look at our faces erased the smile on hers.

I said, 'He's trying to obliterate everything associated with de Bosch. And once again, he used a weapon he found on hand. Turning the victim against herself- insult and injury. Trying to reverse what he thinks was done to him. But he must have brought another weapon with him, to intimidate her.'

'His fists could have been all he needed for that. Lots of bruises around her eyes.'

'Did he hit her hard enough to knock her out?'

'Hard to tell without an autopsy, but Sally said the coroner didn't think so.'

'If she was conscious, why didn't anyone hear her scream?'

'Sometimes people don't scream,' he said. 'Lots of times they freeze and can't get a sound out. Or the head blows could have stunned her. Even if she did scream, it might not have helped. Neighbors on both sides are away, and the ocean blocks out lots of sound to begin with.'

'What about other neighbors? Didn't anyone see someone enter the property?'

'No one's come forward yet. Sally and Steen are gonna do a door-to-door canvass.'

'Sally said the house was a mess. Did she mean poor housekeeping or a toss?'

'A toss. There was overturned furniture, ripped upholstery.'

'Rage,' I said. 'Or he could have been looking for old school records. Something that might incriminate him.'

'Getting rid of the evidence? He's been bumping off people for years, why start covering now?'

'Maybe he's getting more nervous.'

'My experience is just the opposite,' he said. 'Killers acquire a taste for it, enjoy it more and more and get careless.'

'Hope he did get careless and you find something in there.'

'It'll take a couple of days to do a thorough workover.'

'From the outside, the place looked sealed up. If I hadn't seen the breakfast dishes, I would have assumed Katarina was out of town. The killer must have closed the drapes after he killed her, then tossed in peace.'

'Like you said, it's a ritual, something he sets up carefully.'

'So, we're not dealing with a raving psychotic. Everything that's happened is too calculated for a schizophrenic: traveling around to conventions, simulating accidents. Skewering my fish. Taping Hewitt screaming. Stalking, delaying gratification for years. This is calculated cruelty, Milo. Some kind of psychopath. Becky's notes mean we have to look at Gritz carefully. If he's Silk-Merino, his street-bum-alkie thing may be a disguise. The perfect disguise, when you think about it, Milo. The homeless are everywhere, part of the scenery. To most of us they all look alike. I remember seeing a guy at Coburg's office. He looked so similar to Hewitt it startled me. All Bancroft really remembered about his intruder, besides age, was dirt and hair.'

He thought. 'How many years ago did Bancroft say this guy barged in?'

'Around ten. The guy was in his twenties, so he'd be in his thirties now, which would fit Gritz. Bert Harrison's Mr. Merino fits that time frame, too. Both Merino and Bancroft's tramp were agitated. Merino talked about the conference putting him in touch with his problems. A few years later, the tramp returned to his old school, causing a scene, trying to dig up his past. So it could be the same guy, or maybe there are lots of Corrective School alumni wandering around, trying to put their lives together. Whatever the case, something happened there, Milo. Bancroft called the school's students miscreants and fire setters. He denied there'd been any major problems that he couldn't handle, but he could have been lying.'

'Well,' he said, 'local records can be checked, and Sally'll be talking to Bancroft again, see if she can get more details.'

'Good luck to her. He doesn't suffer the middle class lightly.'

He smiled and lifted his glass. 'That's okay. Sally doesn't suffer assholes lightly.'

He drank some beer but didn't touch his food. I looked at mine. It appeared well prepared but had all the appeal of fried lint.

I said, 'Myra Paprock taught school here during the late sixties to the midseventies, so that's probably the time frame we're looking at. Lyle Gritz would have been around ten or eleven. Harrison remembers Myra as being young and very dogmatic. So maybe she got heavy-handed with discipline. Something a child could perceive as bad love. Shipler could have worked there, too, as a janitor. Got involved, somehow, in whatever happened. And most of the conference speakers were on staff then, too. I've got the exact dates in my notes back home. Let's finish up here, get back to L.A., and check.'

'You check,' he said. 'I'll be staying up here for a day or two, working with Sally and Bill Steen. Leave messages at her desk.' He gave me a business card.

I said, 'The killer's been accelerating his pace. One year between victims, now only a few months between Stoumen and Katarina.'

'Unless there are other victims we don't know about.'

'True. I still can't find Harvey Rosenblatt, and his wife hasn't returned my call. Maybe she's a widow who just doesn't want to deal with it. But I've got to keep trying. If Rosenblatt's alive, I need to warn him- need to warn Harrison, too. Let me call him right now and tell him about Katarina.'

I returned to the pay phone and dialed Ojai while reading the warning label on the cigarette machine. No answer, no tape. I hoped it was because Harrison's self-preservation instincts were sharp. The little man would make an easy, crimson target.

When I returned to the table, Milo still hadn't eaten.

'Gone,' I said. 'Maybe hiding already. He said he had somewhere to go.'

'I'll ask an Ojai cop to stop by. What about Becky Basille? How do you fit her into this? Hewitt screaming 'bad love,' the killer taping Hewitt?'

'Maybe Hewitt was a Corrective School alumnus, too. Or maybe the killer indoctrinated Hewitt about bad love. If G is our guy, Becky's notes imply a close relationship of some kind between him and Hewitt. If I'm right about the killer not being psychotic, he'd have been the more put-together partner- the dominant one. Able to push Hewitt's buttons, feed Hewitt's paranoia, get him off his medication, and turn him against his therapist. Because of his hatred of therapists. Plus, he had another reason to hate Becky: Hewitt was getting attached to her.'

Milo began cutting salmon with his fork. Stopped and ran his hand over his face. 'I'm still looking for Mr. Gritz. Pulled his complete sheet and it's all minor league.'

'He told the Calcutta folks he was going to get rich. Could there be some kind of profit motive to these murders?'

'Maybe he was just bragging. Psychopaths do that.' He looked at his food and shoved his plate away. 'Who'm I kidding?'

'The kid on the tape,' I said. 'Any record of Gritz having children?'

He shook his head.

'The chant,' I said. ' 'Bad love, bad love, don't give me the bad love.' Sounds like something an abused kid might say. Having a child recite it could be part of the ritual. Reliving the past, using de Bosch's own terminology. God only knows what else he's done, trying to work through his pain.'

He took out his wallet, pulled out cash, and put it on the table. Tried to catch the waitress's attention, but her back was to us.

'Milo,' I said, 'Becky might still be a link. She could have talked to someone about Hewitt and G.'