You just passed, Monk thought.
'Best to keep you around,' he said. 'You don't want to be out on the street.'
* * *
The next thing Monk did was call the Coast Guard. Suppose, he asked, you dumped that nine-year-old girl at the foot of that tallow factory. Two days later might a floater end up on the rocks near Candlestick Park?
Sure, came the answer. That's how the current goes.
Monk put down the phone. 'First Payton,' he told Ainsworth. 'Then Rennell.'
TEN
'IT DOESN'T LOOK GOOD FOR YOU,' MONK TOLD PAYTON. 'No good at all.'
Hands clasped in front of him, Payton said nothing. His eyes drilled Monk's from a tight, staring mask.
'We're willing to hear your side of the story,' Ainsworth interjected. 'But we know Thuy Sen died in your house. My friend and I keep wondering if you're covering for your brother.'
Payton's grip on himself was so taut that Monk could see the tendons in his forearms straining. 'Whatever you do,' Monk said, 'is fine with me. You can take your chances, or you can tell us what happened.'
Payton's stare still locked Monk's, and then he slowly drew a breath. 'Man,' he answered with weary defiance, 'I don't have to tell you shit.'
'We know she was there,' Monk said sadly. 'We know it, and you know it.'
Rennell shifted in his chair. His demeanor, silent and sullen and self-absorbed, reminded Monk of an adolescent being chastised for some minor offense.
'We found her fingerprints, Rennell. So tell me how they got there.'
Rennell's gaze darted to a corner. Monk watched his fear grow like a living thing.
'She like your sound system?' Ainsworth asked.
Still Rennell did not answer. 'Sometimes,' Monk proposed, 'like when you smoke crack, maybe things happen you didn't mean to happen. You think that's possible?'
Rennell's brow furrowed. 'Sometimes,' he responded to Monk's surprise.
'Is that what happened with Thuy Sen? Maybe 'cause you were smoking crack?'
Rennell stiffened, silent once again.
'Son,' Monk said softly, 'we know it was you who put her in the water.'
Rennell looked up at him, mouth half open. 'No way . . .'
'You carried her out,' Monk continued. 'Because the current was fast, and you were the strongest. And because your brother told you to.'
Rennell's gaze broke. Eyes focused on the table, he shook his head with silent stubbornness.
'We know she was at your house,' Monk said in a reproving tone, 'and we know you dumped her body. It's time for you to say what happened in between.'
Rennell was still now.
'I mean,' Monk amended quietly, 'what happened before you went to get Eddie Fleet.'
The worry in Rennell's face was palpable. His gaze darted past Monk, as if searching the barren room for help.
'No one here but us, Rennell. No one but you can tell us why you did that with Thuy Sen. Not even Payton can tell us that.'
Rennell shifted in his chair. At length he asked, 'Payton, what he say?'
'Time for you to be a man, son. Time to tell us for yourself what happened.'
Rennell crossed his arms, staring at the wall.
'You didn't want for her to die, did you?'
Still the big man did not respond. Then, slowly, he shook his head. 'No.'
Tense with anticipation, Monk prodded. 'You just wanted her to make you feel good.'
Rennell's eyes shut. In a dull monotone, he asked, 'What Payton say?'
'Why does it matter?' Monk said coldly. 'Was Payton the one who killed her?'
'No,' Rennell answered with surprising swiftness. 'No way.'
'No,' Monk agreed. 'It was you. But you didn't mean for that to happen.'
'No.'
'I didn't think so,' Monk said reassuringly. 'You were holding her head down. When she started choking, you didn't know what to do.'
Rennell bent forward. 'I didn't do that little girl,' he said with quiet vehemence. Then he just sat there, seeming gradually to detach himself, until Monk and Ainsworth left him alone.
