was twelve. Always bugging him. Questions, questions, questions. They didn't even know how smart he was. Nobody knew that. It was hard to be so smart. Hard to have friends when you're so smart. People get jealous. Jealousy is the worst sin. Worse than anything, they told him. Told him that. Told him. You're just jealous, they said. Stupid. They were the ones who were jealous because he was so smart.
But you'd have to be smart to work this thing out. He'd been planning forever, it seemed. Planning and planning. Diagrams and names. Taking his time. But time is on my side cause this is the right time of year. Years and years of careful study. You can pull the wool over anybody's eyes if you have patience and cunning. Cunning. He'd heard that one, all right. What a cunning little boy he is.
So cunning they beat the shit out of him. Scars to prove it, buster.
You'd better believe it. Right. Yo. All right. Cat-o'-nine-tails. Fists. Belts. Razor strops. You name it, he'd had it. Didn't faze him. Not him. Wouldn't cry. Planned instead. Resolve. He resolved to do it. Do it. Kill them. Every last stinking one of them. He didn't know it would be such easy work. Such enjoyable work. Not like work at all. More like play. Fun. And I'll have fun, fun, fun.
Enough. Get down to work, you. Fooling around, all the time, all the time. Got to plan it out right. Friday night. Music soothes the savage beast. Ha. Music is his name. Musical accompaniment. Music to kill by. Shit, don't start the fucking laughing again. How can he help it when he's so goddamn funny? Keep a civil tongue in your head, boy. Get out the diagrams, the charts. See who's next. He knows who's next.
This one is really going to get them. Really get them. Blow them out of their socks. Blow them from here to kingdom come. Blow, Gabriel, blow. Who did it? they'll ask. Who could do such a thing? they'll say. Who? What beast? What maniac? What brilliant mind could conceive such a thing?
And I'm the last one. The last chance, the last rose of summer, the last Mohican, the last supper, the last killer, the last suspect. I'm the last one they'd ever suspect. Perfect. That's me.
LOOKING BACK-25 YEARS AGO
At about the mystic hour of midnight on Monday, a woman bit a cop instead of biting a dog, and in addition the fracas occurred in front of the Seaville police station. Patrolmen Bob Phillips and Pete Shaw were just relieving each other when they heard a terrific crash in the municipal parking site as a motor car backed into a parked truck. A woman driver refused to get out of the car and was abusive to the officers. The woman then fell out of the car. As Patrolman Phillips endeavored to help her up she turned and bit him in the right thigh so severely that he was attended by a physician.
FOURTEEN
Chuck Higbee was almost overwhelmed by his sense of well-being. You just don't always feel this good, he thought. And then he wondered if he was going to have to pay. It was stupid but that's the way his mind went. You get something good, you have to pay for it. Maybe with a disease, or could be you lose your wallet. He'd been given a raise that morning, twenty dollars more a week. Sally'd been real pleased, rubbed up against him in the kitchen, promising more to come later.
So now he and Sal and the kids were walking down Main Street toward the bank parking lot where the first band concert of the season was being held. They always went to the first one, some of the others, and always the last. The band wasn't great, but it was fun sitting there with friends taking in the night air, listening to renditions of 'Oklahoma!' or 'Yankee Doodle Dandy' and ushering in the Memorial Day weekend. Still, Chuck couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to have to pay somehow. It was a dumb superstition, but he guessed he didn't lick it off the ground; his parents talked about paying for what you get in this world all the time.
Of course their big example was the fire. Ed Higbee had just gotten a bank loan for the farm, so he and Rosie went out celebrating, dancing at the new club in town, and the damn place caught fire. There was panic and, although his parents had gotten out, Ed had third-degree burns on his right arm and part of his back. So they were always talking about how they had had to pay a lot more than interest on that farm loan.
And what about his own life? The same day he'd gotten his job with the bank he and Sal had found out that their six-month-old, Mary Beth, was hydrocephalic. How's that for paying dues? Sure, it turned out okay, she had the shunt operation and it was successful, but there were some hairy days in there.
Chuck looked down at Mary Beth, five now, and as cute a little girl as he'd ever seen. She looked like her mom, big brown eyes, and yellow curls the color of buttercups, and just as healthy as she could be. He squeezed the little hand in his.
'What, Daddy?' Mary Beth asked.
'Hi, cutie,' he said.
'Hi.'
'Love you.'
'Love you, too.'
Katie, his older daughter, peeked at him from the other side of Sally.
'Love you, too, Katie-did.'
She grinned, showing the gap in her teeth where she'd lost a front one last week. Chuck couldn't believe how big she was getting. Eight next month.
Funny, but he never thought he liked kids. Now the sun rose and set on his two girls. His three girls. Sal, too. If anything happened to any of them he just didn't know what he'd do. Aunt Addy's ass, he was depressing. Here he gets a raise they desperately needed, and all he can do is think morbid stuff. Well, maybe it was the murders getting to him. He'd forbidden Sally to go out alone at night. They'd had a big fight about it, too. Finally they compromised, and he'd driven her and Ann Shepp to their exercise class and Dan Shepp brought them home. Yeah, it was probably the murders making him so morbid and creepy.
'What's wrong, Chuck?' Sally asked. 'You got a funny look on your face.'
'It's just my regular ugly puss, Sal, nothing new.'
'Some ugly puss,' she said, and gave him a wink.
Chuck knew Sally thought he was a looker-like Burt Reynolds, she was always saying. It made him feel good even if it wasn't true.
As they turned into Center Street they saw people heading toward the parking lot and could hear the musicians tuning up. Hell, Chuck thought, I'm going to cut this bullshit and just have a good time. I got a raise I deserved and nothing bad is going to happen, nothing at all.
Colin sat on the cement wall on the right of the parking lot. The band was playing 'In the Good Old Summertime' and the whole thing made him feel good, better than he had in awhile. He guessed it reminded him of when he was a kid, and they had concerts like this behind Our Lady of Sorrows school. He and Brian and his mother always went to them, and afterwards she'd take them both to Grunning's for an ice-cream cone. He always had black raspberry.
Looking around he saw a lot of kids with their parents. Phil Nagle and his family; the Higbees and their two girls; Jake, his mailman, and a couple of boys who looked just like him. The place was loaded with kids. Mark and Sarah were there too, sitting in the center section with Kristen and Brent. Colin had forgotten to bring his own chair, the way you were supposed to, so he couldn't sit with the Griffings. They'd meet up afterwards and go to the Paradise, get cones for the kids. Colin wondered if the Paradise had black raspberry. Mark had told him the band was nothing to write home about, but that he always went to the opener for support and he liked his staff to turn out as well. So here he was banging his heels against a cement wall in time to 'Has Anybody Seen My Gal?' He'd been surprised at how many people showed up. There must have been about two hundred. Mostly couples with little kids, a few teenagers, and a lot of senior citizens.
Colin spotted Tug Wilson, head of the historical society, and there was that guy who confessed to everything. Carl Gildersleeve was here with Grace. And the veterinarian; Steve Cornwell, the real estate agent who'd gotten him his house; the owner of Van Duzer's and his wife; the barber; Betty Mills, the librarian; Doug Corwin and
