My heart sank. 'Another girl?'
'No. A boy. Stabbed twenty-three times with a hunting knife, left in a Dumpster behind Marshall Fields on Wabash. Blasky's doing the autopsy now.'
'How do we know it's our perp?'
'There was another gingerbread man cookie. We ran the kid's prints, ID'd him as Leroy Parker. Two shoplifting convictions, wanted in connection with half a dozen more counts. His description and MO match the kid who pulled the seizure distractions. Perp also left another note.'
Herb handed me a photocopy. The Gingerbread Man's familiar scrawl filled the page.
'If I was only faster yesterday...'
'Our job is to catch him, Jack, not blame ourselves or take responsibility for what he does.'
The nurse came, and went into a lecture about how I shouldn't be out of bed. To assuage her wrath I allowed myself to be helped back in.
'No more getting out of bed, Ms. Daniels, or I'll have you tied down.'
'Kinky. I may like that.'
The nurse picked up my tray and smiled her nurse's smile. 'At least your appetite is healthy.'
I eyed Benedict. 'Just like Mom used to steam.'
The nurse left, and I made Herb get me my clothes.
'You're not leaving.'
'I'm leaving. I hate being coddled. I'm a grown woman, and I can fend for myself. Now help me put on my pants.'
After ten minutes of sweating, grunting pain, I managed to get changed into the clothes Herb had brought me the night before. I was even able to tie my own shoes without ripping my stitches.
'There's a media circus waiting outside the front entrance for you to come out,' Herb said. 'Should we find a back way?'
'Hell, no. Our man isn't making any mistakes, but maybe if I piss him off enough, he will.'
'So -- you're going to anger the psycho?'
'Not at all.' I called the surveillance team and told them I was getting out of there. 'I'm simply going to give an honest, bare-bones interview.'
After fighting with two doctors and four nurses, I was finally discharged against hospital recommendation and had to sign a paper absolving them of responsibility if I died after stepping off their property. Then I ran a brush through my hair, wiped the crud from my eyes, grabbed my aluminum hospital cane, and went to meet the press.
Benedict hadn't been exaggerating about the media circus. At least two dozen reporters were hanging around outside the hospital entrance, all waiting around for the off chance that I'd appear. I'd had big cases before, and had been on TV. At first I was impressed. But then I saw myself on the tube, which added twenty pounds, made me look short, and somehow distorted my fine speaking voice into something squeaky.
'I have some things to say, and then afterward I can answer a few questions,' I told the crowd, giving them a chance to switch on their cameras and focus. 'First of all, I was shot by the criminal that the press is calling the Gingerbread Man. He'd broken into my apartment last night. As you can see, my injury isn't serious. He couldn't aim the gun properly, because he was hysterical, crying for his mama.'
Herb gave me a slight nudge in the ribs, but I was just warming up.
'Besides the obvious emotional problems, the killer is also very stupid. The only reason we haven't caught him yet is because he's been lucky, and because he's a coward who runs away when confronted. I fully expect that with the combined efforts of the Chicago Police Department and the FBI, we should have him in custody soon. Now I'll take questions.'
The questioning went well. When it was over I'd also called the killer a bed-wetter, said he was impotent, and predicted that when we found him, he'd probably be picking his nose. I explained I felt no anger toward his attack on me; rather I felt sorry for him, like a sick dog. When asked if I was afraid of him going after me, I laughed and said he would be too scared to make another attempt.
At that point my cellular phone began to ring, and I had a pretty good idea who it was. I excused myself from further questions and walked away from the crowd before answering.
'Daniels.'
'Why didn't you clear this with me before broadcasting live on five channels?'
Captain Bains.
'I was live? Did I sound squeaky?'
'You sounded like you're provoking him. Dime-store psychology is not the way to run a headline case.'
'You left me in charge, Captain. This is how I want to run it.'
'And when this guy kills a dozen people because he's mad you called him a mama's boy, how do you figure we'll still be employed after the lawsuits come rolling in?'
'I'm provoking him to come after me. The only one I put in danger is myself.'
'And what if you don't catch him? You just promised the city you'll have him in custody soon.'
'I'll catch him.'
