after I failed her. She didn't even know if 1 was alive or not, but she lied to protect me. It was more than he could bear, and Kelly simply lost control of himself for several minutes. But even that had a purpose. His eyes dried up after a time, and as he wiped his face, he also removed any human feelings he might have had for his guest.
Kelly stood and walked back to the control chair. He didn't want to look the little bastard in the face any longer. He might really lose control, and he couldn't risk that.
'Tom, I think you may be right after all' Ryan said.
According to his driver's license - already checked out: no arrest record, but a lengthy list of traffic violations - Richard Oliver Farmer was twenty-four and would grow no older. He had expired from a single knife thrust into the chest, through the pericardium, fully transiting the heart. The size of the knife wound - ordinarily such traumatic insults closed up until they became difficult for the layman to see - indicated that the assailant had twisted the blade as much as the space between the ribs allowed. It was a large wound, indicating a blade roughly two inches in width. More important, there was additional confirmation.
'Not real smart,' the ME announced. Ryan and Douglas both nodding, looking. Mr Farmer had been wearing a white cotton, button-down-collar shirt. There was a suit jacket, too, hanging on a doorknob. Whoever had killed him had wiped the knife on the shirt. Three wipes, it appeared, and one of them had left a permanent impression of the knife, marked in the blood of the victim, who had a revolver in his belt but hadn't had a chance to use it. Another victim of skill and surprise, but, in this case, less circumspection. The junior of the pair pointed to one of the stains with his pencil.
'You know what it is?' Douglas asked. It was rhetorical; he answered his own question immediately. 'It's a Ka-Bar, standard-issue Marine combat knife. I own one myself.'
'Niice edge on it, too,' the ME told them. 'Very clean cut, almost surgical in the way it went through the skin. He must have sliced the heart just about in half. A very accurate thrust, gentlemen, the knife came in perfectly horizontal so it didn't jam on the ribs. Most people think the heart's on the left. Our friend knew better. Only one penetration. He knew exactly what he was doing.'
'One more, Em. Armed criminal. Our friend got in close and did him so fast -'
'Yeah, Tom, I believe you now.' Ryan nodded and went upstairs to join the other detective team. In the front bedroom was a pile of men's clothes, a cloth satchel with a ton of cash in it, a gun, and a knife. A mattress with semen stains, some still moist. Also a lady's purse. So much evidence for the younger men to catalog. Blood types from the semen stains. Complete ID on all three - they assumed three - people who had been here. Even a car outside to run down. Finally something like a normal murder case. Latent prints would be all over the place. The photographers had already shot a dozen rolls of film. But for Ryan and Douglas the matter was already settled in its curious way.
'You know that guy Farber over at Hopkins?'
'Yeah, Em, he worked the Gooding case with Frank Allen. I set the date up. He's real smart,' Douglas allowed. 'A little peculiar, but smart. I have to be in court this afternoon, remember?'
'Okay, I think I can handle it. I owe you a beer, Tom. You figured this one faster than I did.'
'Well, thanks, maybe I can be a lieutenant, too, some-day.'
Ryan laughed, fishing out a cigarette as he walked down the stairs.
'You going to resist?' Kelly asked with a smile. He'd just come back into the salon after tying up to the quay.
'Why should I help you with anything?'?ill? asked with what he thought to be defiance.
'Okay.' Kelly drew the Ka-Bar and held it next to a particularly sensitive place. 'We can start right now if you want.'
The whole body shriveled, but one part more than the others. 'Okay, okay!'
'Good. I want you to learn a little from this. I don't want you ever to hurt another girl again.' Kelly loosed the shackles from the deck fitting, but his arms were still together, bolted in tight, as he stood Billy up.
'Fuck you, man! You're gonna kill me! And I ain't gonna tell you shit.'
Kelly twisted him around to stare in his eyes. 'I'm not going to kill you, Billy. You'll leave this island alive. I promise.'
The confusion on his face was sufficiently amusing that Kelly actually smiled for a second. Then he shook his head. He told himself that he was treading a very narrow and hazardous path between two equally dangerous slopes, and to both extremes lay madness, of two different types but equally destructive. He had to detach himself from the reality of the moment, yet hold on to it. Kelly helped him down from the boat and walked him towards the machinery bunker.
'Thirsty?'
'I need to take a piss, too.'
Kelly guided him onto some grass. 'Go right ahead.' Kelly waited. Billy didn't like being naked, not in front of another man, not in a subordinate position. Foolishly, he wasn't trying to talk to Kelly now, at least not in the right way. Coward that he was, he'd tried to build up his manhood earlier, trying to talk not so much to Kelly as himself as he'd recounted his part in ending Pam's life, creating for himself an illusion of power, when silence might - well, would probably not have saved him. It might have created doubts, though, especially if he'd been clever enough to spin a good yarn, but cowardice and stupidity were not strangers to each other, were they? Kelly let him stand untended while he dialed the combination lock. Turning on the interior lights, he pushed Billy inside.
It looked like - was in fact a steel cylinder, seventeen inches in diameter, sitting on its own legs with large caster-wheels at the bottom, just where he'd left it. The steel cover on the end was not in place, hanging down on its hinge.
'You're going to get in that,' Kelly told him.
'Fuck you, man!' Defiance again. Kelly used the butt end of the Ka-Bar to club him on the back of the neck. Billy fell to his knees.
'One way or another, you're getting in - bleeding or not bleeding, I really don't care.' Which was a lie, but an effective one. Kelly lifted him by the neck and forced his head and shoulders into the opening. 'Don't move.'
It was so much easier than he'd expected. Kelly pulled a key off its place on the wall and unbolted the shackles on Billy's hands. He could feel his prisoner tense, thinking that he might have a chance, but Kelly was fast on the wrench - he only had to remove one bolt to free both hands, and a prod from the knife in the right place encouraged Billy not to back up, which was the necessary precursor to any kind of effective resistance. Billy was just too cowardly to accept pain as the price for a chance at escape. He trembled but didn't resist at all, for all his lavish and desperate thoughts.
'Inside!' A push helped, and when his feet were inside the rim, Kelly lifted the hatch and bolted it into place. Then he walked out, flipping the lights off. He needed something to eat and a nap. Billy could wait. The waiting would just make things easier.
'Hello?' Her voice sounded very worried.
'Hi, Sandy, it's John.'
'John! What's going on?'
'How is she?'
'Doris, you mean? She's sleeping now,' Sandy told him. 'John, who - I mean, what's happened to her?'
Kelly squeezed the phone receiver in his hand. 'Sandy, I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay? This is really important.'
'Okay, go ahead.' Sandy was in her kitchen, looking at a pot of coffee. Outside she could see neighborhood children playing a game of ball on a vacant field whose comforting normality now seemed to be very distant indeed.
'Number one, don't tell anybody that she's there. Sure as hell you don't tell the police.'
'John, she's badly injured, she's hooked on pills, she probably has severe medical problems on top of that. I have to-'
'Sam and Sarah, then. Nobody else. Sandy, you got that? Nobody else. Sandy...' Kelly hesitated. It was too hard a thing to say, but he had to make it clear. 'Sandy, I have placed you in danger. The people who worked Doris over are the same ones -'
'I know, John. I kinda figured that one out.' The nurse's expression was neutral, but she too had seen the photo of Pamela Starr Madden's body. 'John, she told me that you - killed somebody.'
'Yes, Sandy, I did.'
