The Alienist - Caleb Carr [78]
At that, Sara got to her feet in a sudden movement and rushed to the edge of the roof farthest from where we were standing. The rest of us glanced at each other questioningly, and then I went after her. Approaching slowly, I saw that she was looking out at Lady Liberty, and I confess to some surprise at not finding her heaving with sobs. Instead her body was quite still, even rigid. Without turning she said:
“Please don’t come any closer, John.” Her tone, far from hysterical, was icily even. “I’d rather not have any men around me. Just for a moment.”
I stood awkwardly still. “I’m—sorry, Sara. I only wanted to help. You’ve seen a lot tonight.”
She let out a bitter little chuckle. “Yes. But there’s nothing you can do to help.” She paused, but I didn’t leave. “And to think,” she continued at length, “that we actually thought it might have been a woman…”
“Thought?” I said. “So far as I know, we still haven’t ruled it out.”
“Perhaps the rest of you haven’t. I don’t suppose you could be expected to. You’re working at a disadvantage, in that area.”
I turned when I felt a presence at my side and found Kreizler carefully moving closer. He indicated silence to me as Sara spoke on:
“But I can tell you, John—that’s a man’s work, back there. Any woman who would have killed the boy wouldn’t have…” She groped for words. “All that stabbing, binding, and poking…I’ll never understand it. But there’s no mistaking it, once you’ve…had the experience.” She chuckled once grimly. “And it always seems to begin with trust…” There was another very awkward pause, during which Kreizler touched my arm and with a movement of his head told me to return to the other side of the roof. “Just leave me for a few minutes, John,” Sara finally finished. “I’ll be fine.”
Kreizler and I moved away quietly, and when we were out of Sara’s hearing Laszlo murmured, “She’s right, of course. I’ve never come across any feminine mania—puerperal or otherwise—that could compare to this. Though it probably would have taken me a ridiculously long time to realize it. We must find more ways to take advantage of Sara’s perspective, John.” He glanced around quickly. “But first we must get out of here.”
While Sara remained at the edge of the roof, the rest of us set to work gathering up the Isaacsons’ equipment and removing all traces of our presence, primarily the little splotches of aluminum and carbon powder that dotted the area. As we did so, Marcus initiated a conversation concerning the fact that half of the six murders we now felt confident assigning to our killer had occurred on rooftops: a significant fact, for rooftops in the New York of 1896 were secondary but nonetheless well-worn routes of urban travel, lofty counterparts to the sidewalks below that were full of their own distinctive types of traffic. Particularly in the tenement slums, a broad but definable range of people sometimes did a full day’s business without ever descending to the street—not only creditors seeking payment, but settlement and church workers, salesmen, visiting nurses, and others. Rents in the tenements were generally scaled in proportion to the amount of exertion required to reach a given flat, and thus the most unfortunate residents occupied the top floors of buildings. Those who had business with these poorest of the poor, rather than braving the steep and often dangerous staircases repeatedly, would simply move from one high floor to another by way of the rooftops. True, we still didn’t know just how our man was getting to those rooftops; but it was clear that once there he made his way around with great skill. The possibility that he had once held, or currently did hold, one of those roof-traveling jobs was therefore worth exploring.
“Whatever his occupation,” Theodore announced, coiling the rope we’d used to lower Marcus down the wall, “it would take a cool mind to plan this kind of violence so precisely and then carry it out so thoroughly, when he knows that the possibility of apprehension is never very far off.”
“Yes,” Kreizler answered. “It almost suggests a martial spirit,