Kill All the Lawyers

threatening to blow the whistle on him. Kreeger killed Nancy, then convinced Amanda that she'd done it.

But there was no way to prove it.

Now Steve slowed to a walk. The morning air was heavy with humidity. The golf course was quiet. Not even a 'fore.' Steve approached his Mustang, parked in the shade of a banyan tree. No one inside.

Where's Bobby!

Had he wandered off? He could have sneaked over to the golf course to watch duffers flail away in the scrubby roughs.

Janice! Where the hell's my worthless sister? She could have followed us here. She could have waited, and-

No. No need to do that. All she had to do was call, and the little stinker would sneak out and get ice cream with her.

Kreeger!

Steve whirled and ran back toward the house.

Thirty-One

FIRE OF MY LOINS

Laughter was coming from the ground-floor office. Bobby's laugh. Childlike and innocent, a bird's song on a summer breeze. Steve threw the door open. Kreeger was behind his desk, Bobby sitting cross-legged on a leather chair.

'Hey, Uncle Steve. We started without you.'

'Come in, Solomon.' Kreeger's smile seemed sincere, as sincere as a wolf smiling at a lamb.

'What the hell's going on?'

'Your nephew is regaling me with his wizardry powers. Shall we try another one, Robert?'

'Go for it, Doc.'

'How about my name? 'William Kreeger.' '

'Easy, 'cause it's got so many vowels, and I can make four words.' The kid thought a second, then boomed: 'WIRE ME RAGE KILL.'

'Utterly delightful.' Kreeger turned to Steve. 'Robert was just telling me about the lovely Maria and the unfortunate incident that led to his coming here.'

'She's a fox,' Bobby said.

'Indeed, she is.' Kreeger picked a wallet-size photo from his desk. 'Lovely, isn't she, Solomon?'

'Where'd you get that?' It was a shot of Maria Munoz-Goldberg preening for the camera. Shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt that stopped north of her navel. Her back was arched in a way that showed off her small butt. Except for the clothing, she could have been Amanda, posing for Kreeger seven years earlier.

'I gave it to Dr. Bill,' Bobby said. 'He's giving me advice on bagging Maria.'

'Great. I'll come visit you in Youth Hall.'

'Nothing bad or anything. The doc says to just be myself. Don't try to be cool or imitate the guys on the football team, because it won't work. We all have to be ourselves, because if we fake it, smart people see right through it, anyway.'

'That's good advice,' Steve admitted, leveling his gaze at Kreeger. 'Sooner or later, the phonies get caught. And then all their lies, all their deeds come back to haunt them.'

'How true,' Kreeger said. 'Now, Robert, what were we talking about when your uncle walked in?'

'You asked if I thought Maria was a little prostitot.'

'What!' Steve was halfway out of his chair. 'What kind of question is that for a twelve-year-old?'

'Oh, come now, Steve,' Kreeger crooned. 'You've seen those nubile little cock teasers around the Grove, haven't you?'

'Hey. I don't talk that way in front of Bobby.'

'Obviously, you haven't read my essay on verbal honesty. Now, Robert, does Maria have any piercings?'

'A shiny thing in her navel,' Bobby answered.

'And I take it she wears clothing that reveals her bare abdomen?'

'Sure.

'As I thought.' Kreeger beamed. 'A little prostitot.'

'That's ridiculous,' Steve said.

'We'll see. Robert, have you ever seen Maria's breasts?'

'Not unless you count looking through the window in the dark.'

'Well, if you don't try something, she'll think you're gay.'

'That's nuts!' Steve thundered. 'Bobby, don't listen to him.'

'I'm not gay,' Bobby said.

Kreeger smiled. 'I know that, Robert. But does Maria?'

'Hope so.'

'Sounds to me like she really wants you to do her.'

Steve leapt to his feet. 'That's it. We're out of here.'

'In that case, Robert will be detained at Youth Hall, pending mandatory testing.'

Steve sank back into his chair.

'Maria never said anything about wanting to do it,' Bobby said.

'She won't,' Kreeger said confidently. 'See, Robert, man is the hunter. For millions of years, man killed the game and took the female of his choice. The female always yields to the strong man. When she says no, she means maybe. When she says maybe, she means yes.'

'Wrong!' Steve turned to Bobby. 'No means no. Maybe means no. Yes still means no because you're too young.'

'Bobby, why don't you let your uncle and me talk for a bit?' Kreeger suggested. 'There's a bowl of fruit in the kitchen. And a box of chocolate chip cookies on the counter.'

'Awesome. I'll bounce.'

Bobby unspooled his legs and headed out.

After the office door closed, Steve got to his feet and leaned over Kreeger's desk. 'You can tell the judge anything you want, but I'm not going to let you poison Bobby's mind.'

'Relax, Solomon. I'm just testing the boy. I'm worried how Robert might react if Maria rejects him.'

'What are you talking about?'

'The way Robert handles stress.' Kreeger scribbled a note on a pad. 'I'm quite concerned that the boy could become violent with her.'

'What the hell are you writing down there?'

'Do you remember that girl who went missing down in the Redlands a few months ago? A boy in the neighborhood had a developmental problem similar to Robert's. The girl's body was never found, and the police lacked evidence, but I feel quite certain the boy was involved.'

'Bobby's not violent. In case you forgot, you're the homicidal one, Kreeger.'

'So you keep saying.' Kreeger rested his hand on the desk, on Maria's photo. 'Do you think Robert would mind if I kept this?'

'Yeah.' Steve walked toward the window. 'And so would I.'

Kreeger slipped on a pair of reading glasses and studied the photo. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Way too long. Finally, he said: 'Juicy one, isn't she?'

'Sick, Kreeger. Sick and twisted.'

Kreeger closed his eyes and murmured: ' 'Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta.' '

Quoting Nabokov's famous opening lines, admitting his own predilection for pubescent girls. Almost as if he were the patient and Steve the psychiatrist. Did he want help?