“How so?”
“The part of the Midnight Rambler case that's so baffling is how did Skell identify his victims? How did he know
“Soft targets,” Sally said.
“Exactly. Well, we have the same thing here. How did Bonnie and Cecil know that Shannon Dockery was a soft target?”
“Maybe they got lucky.”
“Luck is the residue of design. Tram Dockery had a six-pack of beer for breakfast. He admitted it to me earlier. He's also very young and not very smart. He was the
Sally dropped her hands and thought about it.
“You're right, they were,” she said.
Again I pointed into the next room. Bonnie had sunk farther into her chair, and was sadly shaking her head.
“Separate them, and let me have a crack at her,” I said.
“What exactly are you going to do?”
“I'm going to put the fear of God into her and make her talk.”
“Promise me you won't use any rough stuff.”
“I already did.”
“Promise again.”
My face grew hot, and so did my emotions.
“What do you think I am, some kind of crazy vigilante?”
“No, just a man on a mission,” she said, looking me straight in the eye.
I held her gaze. “All right. No rough stuff. That's a promise.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you have something I can record my interrogation with?”
“The room's already wired,” Sally said.
Bonnie and Cecil were separated.
Before I went in to speak with Bonnie, I decided I needed to look like a Disney employee if my words were going to carry any weight. Sally tried to find a Disney shirt for me to wear, but nothing close to my size was available. I settled for a hastily constructed laminated badge with my name printed on it. To add to the picture, Sally gave me a copy of the internal newsletter that Disney's forty thousand employees received each week.
“Good luck,” she said.
I entered the interrogation room with the newsletter tucked under my arm. Bonnie lifted her head but did not speak. I removed a pack of gum I'd bought from a hallway vending machine and offered her a stick. She refused with a shake of her head.
“Take one,” I said. “ It will make you feel better.”
She changed her mind and took a stick.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“Human resources. I came about your boys. They're yours, aren't they?”
She ripped the paper off the gum and shoved the stick into her mouth.
“I want to talk to a lawyer,” she said, chewing vigorously.
“You mean Leonard Snook?”
“Whatever his name is, I want to talk to him.”
“He's Cecil's lawyer. Is he your lawyer, too?”
“Damn straight,” she said.
“Trust me, Bonnie, you
“Why the hell not?”
“Leonard Snook won't do those boys any good. Now, whose are they?”
She crossed her arms defiantly in front of her chest. “You're violating my civil rights. I'll sue this park and Michael Eisner and Walt Disney if you don't let me talk to my lawyer. Understand that, Mr. Human Resources?”
I casually leaned against the mirror, studying her. She had a perfectly even tan that I guessed had come from a tanning salon, and her eyes were too blue to be anything but contacts. The amazing artificial woman.
“Do you know anything about Leonard Snook?” I asked.
“What's there to know?” she snapped.
“Leonard Snook is a criminal defense attorney who represents serial murderers and career criminals. Call him, and you're all but admitting that you're guilty, and those two boys will get placed in a state foster home. You don't want that to happen, do you?”
“I want to speak with my lawyer.”
“I'm here for the boys' sake,” I said. “If you had an ounce of compassion for their well-being, you'd answer the question.”
Bonnie's face started to crack. Then, just as quickly, her icy demeanor returned.
“Go away,” she said.
I slammed the door behind me. The best way to deal with scum like Bonnie Sizemore was to scream at them while threatening bodily harm. It was the only way to penetrate the callous layer of skin that had wrapped itself around their hearts. But I had promised Sally I wouldn't resort to those tactics, and I was a man of my word.
I went down the hall to the room where Cecil was being held. Sally was working him over, and through the door I could hear Cecil telling her the same things Bonnie had told me. He wanted to speak to Leonard Snook, and he wanted to speak to him now.
I leaned against the wall and listened to Cecil's verbal barrage. He had his answers down pat and didn't sound intimidated by Sally's threats of a lifetime in jail. Eventually, Sally would have to turn him and Bonnie over to the Orange County Sheriff's Department or risk ruining the police's ability to prosecute.
I tore a corner off the Disney newsletter to stick my gum in. On the newsletter's cover was a photograph of a comic/ impersonator named Brian Cox. Cox was headlining at Disney's Islands of Adventure nightclub, and the newsletter urged Disney employees to come out and see the show. It gave me an idea, and I knocked on the door. Sally opened the door with an exasperated look on her face.
“Any luck?” she asked.
“No, but I've got an idea,” I said.
Sally came into the hall and shut the door. I showed her the article about Brian Cox.
“I once used an impersonator to crack a witness in Fort Lauderdale,” I said. “Maybe I can get this guy to help me crack Bonnie. Think you can track him down?”
Sally read the article while studying Cox's photo. Cox had spiked hair, a lopsided grin, and bulging eyes.
“I don't know, Jack. He looks like a lunatic.”
“The article says he does great impressions. It's worth a shot.”
She handed me the newsletter. Her eyes looked tired.
“You don't give up, do you?” she said.
“Never,” I said.
