Blind Alley - Iris Johansen [68]
“We made progress today. He called you.”
“It's not enough. He meant what he said. He'll wait until he's wrung every bit of pleasure from the situation.” Her lips tightened. “He was . . . foul. I've never touched anything that ugly. He . . . made me afraid. I can't let that happen again.”
“We can have Quinn check phone records to try to trace him.”
She nodded. “I thought of that. But I doubt if he'd have called if he hadn't thought it was safe.”
“We'll try anyway.”
“Of course.” She straightened on the swing. “We'll do everything we can. I'll talk to Joe and Eve later tonight.”
“Not now?”
“I don't want them to see me like this—not now.” Talking to Trevor had eased the sick fear that Aldo had engendered, but she had to move away from it, drown the memory of that call for a while. Her glance went to the envelope still in his hand. “You said I had a letter?”
He didn't speak for a moment and then smiled faintly. “Yes, from Harvard. Did you apply there?”
He was letting her slide away from the subject, she realized with relief.
“Yes, I applied for early acceptance.” She took the letter without opening it. “Maybe I've been accepted.” She tossed it down on the porch swing. “That would be nice.”
“Your enthusiasm is astonishing.”
“I'm not sure I want to go to an Ivy League school. But Joe went there and he liked it. Where's my list?”
He reached in his pocket and handed her a slip of paper. “This is all I can remember and he may not go to these sites anymore.”
“And he may.” She glanced over the list. “Two of these are Italian Web sites. One English newspaper . . .”
“He went to Oxford for two years. He liked to keep in touch.”
“And this one in Florence, La Nazione. Is that a newspaper too?”
He nodded. “He grew up there. Most people keep an eye on their hometowns. He also went to another newspaper site in Rome, Corriere della Sera.”
She pointed to another site. “And this one?”
“Archaeology Journal? It's a weekly magazine and practically the professional bible of modern-day archaeology.”
“But he was an actor. It was his father who was the archaeologist. He probably skips this one now.”
“No, there are often articles about Pompeii and Herculaneum. He has a vested interest.”
She'd gone on to another site. “This one's in Rome, too. Another newspaper?”
He smiled. “No, one of Italy's premier porn sites. Very explicit, very kinky. You can bet he's still interested in visiting that one occasionally.”
“What kind of kinky?”
“I was curious, too, when I watched him bring up the site so I checked it out. They specialize in sadomasochism and necrophilia.”
“Raping dead people?” She shivered. “Creepy.”
“And it confirmed my belief that Aldo was not a nice fellow.”
“You said he didn't rape any of the victims after those first women he killed in Rome.”
“That doesn't mean he's not interested in sex. Maybe he didn't consider any of the others worthy. Or these days he may get off on the kill itself.”
She moistened her lips. “Those women he raped. Was it before or after he killed them?”
“After.”
“Sick.”
“No question. Do you need to know anything else?”
“I'll let you know.” Her tone was abstracted as she went over the list. “I may be able to figure out the rest. I can go to a gateway site and get a rough translation.”
“Then I'm dismissed?”
“For now.”
“And am I going to be allowed to know what the hell you're planning on doing with it?”
She glanced up. “Oh, yes. I'm going to need you.”
“I'll take comfort in that.” He turned to leave. “I don't imagine you admit you need many people.”
“No.”
“Can you give me a time estimate?”
She shook her head. “I have to think about it and do some research.”
“And you have to recover a little