Blossom - Andrew H. Vachss [38]
"We discussed your credentials."
"I got other references."
"I'm sure you do. But…"
"The human who did this, he's not some lonely, scared kid who likes to look at pictures. The guy you want, he's a sex–sniper."
"A what?"
"Sex–sniper. A guy who gets sexual satisfaction from penetrating his victims at a distance. The rifle's his cock. The bullets are his sperm. Bang bang, you're fucked."
"How d'you…?"
"Berkowitz…Son of Sam, remember? Apparently motiveless shootings. Girls alone. Or a guy and a girl together. That Zodiac freak on the Coast. That maniac in Buffalo. They're out there, and they play to a pattern."
"I never…"
"There was a case a lot like this one a few years back, somewhere in upstate New York."
"Is this kind of research a hobby of yours?"
"It's my work. And how I stayed alive this long."
Davidson nodded agreement, watching the Indiana lawyer. "Burke knows freaks like nobody else, Bart. In New York, even the cops admit that."
"You could find him?"
"I think so. Maybe. I know where to look."
"Where?"
"Where you can't look. That's why I may want to buy some slack from this detective, if he'll play."
"I'll ask him."
I got up to leave. "Okay. Virgil and Lloyd, they'll be ready to come in soon, maybe a few more days. I'll get word to you in front, you'll handle the surrender?"
"Sure. The bail…"
I opened my attaché case. "There's twenty–five K in here. Take what's left over as a front on your fee."
"You want a receipt?"
"I got one," I told him. Shook hands with Davidson and walked out.
48
MCGOWAN ANSWERED the phone on the first ring.
"It's me," told him. "I'm in Indiana, just outside Gary. Working on a case. A sex–sniper, real ugly freak. My brother's cousin is a suspect. I'm looking for the real hitter. There's a detective out here, name of Sherwood. If I give him your name and number, will you go for me?"
"What's that mean?"
"Tell him what I am. What I'm not."
"Okay, pal. He might not like what he hears."
"I'll chance it. Out here, I'm Mitchell Sloane, okay?"
McGowan's honey–Irish voice came through the line. "Tell him to call. I'm not in, I'll get back to him."
"Thanks."
He hung up.
49
DRIVING OVER to the hideout that night, little tongues of flame licked at my insides. Not my old friend. Not fear. Not yet. I knew why I came to Indiana. Did what I came for. What my brother asked. I knew the Sociopath's Song by heart. Travel light and you travel fast.
But you got nothing when you get there.
I knew the man who was out there. Out there in the dark, shadow–stalking, licking his lips, directing his porno movies through a telescopic sight. Making them into snuff films.
I didn't owe it to anyone to hang around, see this thing through.
And if I owed it to myself, I didn't want to know why.
50
THE SPORTING–GOODS store had a good supply of boxing equipment. I ignored the rifles stacked against the far wall, concentrating on what I needed for now.
When I got inside the hideout, I dumped the duffel bag out on the floor. Told Virgil we'd all be going in soon.
He nodded, looking at the boxing gloves lying on the cement. "He's been beating the hell out of that heavy bag. We gotta know the rest."
The rest. Punching bags don't punch back. If Lloyd was going to quit, we needed to know. Now.
"Let's do it," I said.
I waved Lloyd over. "We're going to spar some now, kid. See how those hooks of yours work when someone's trying to block them, okay?"
Lloyd held out his hands for the gloves, head down. Hesitant.
"What's wrong, boy?" Virgil's voice was quiet, steady.
"What if I hurt Burke?"
Virgil's laugh had relief in it. "Hell, son, you couldn't…"
I stepped on his words. "You won't be able to hurt me, Lloyd. It looks like I'm in trouble, Virgil'll pull you off quick enough."
He nodded. I wrapped the Ace bandage over one hand. Held out the other for Virgil. "Not too tight," I told him.
The top of the kid's head came about to my chin. I banged the gloves together, rolled my shoulders, rotated my neck on its column, getting ready.
Lloyd was still watching me closely when