The Crucifix Killer - Chris Carter [140]
‘I thought you’d be happy to see me.’ Her Italian accent was gone. In fact, everything about her was different. As if the Isabella he knew had vanished, replaced by a total stranger.
Hunter’s expression remained immutable. His brain was finally piecing together the last of the puzzle.
‘You deserve an Oscar. Your Italian accent was perfect.’
She bowed down acknowledging the compliment.
‘Very clever trick with that phone call at the restaurant too. A perfect alibi,’ Hunter said, remembering the call he’d received from the killer when he was having lunch with her for the first time. ‘A recorded message with a timer. Simple, but very effective.’
A hint of a smile creased her lips. ‘Allow me to introduce myself . . .’ she said steadily.
‘Brenda . . .’ Hunter interrupted in a hoarse and weak voice. ‘Brenda Spencer . . . John Spencer’s sister. The record producer.’
She shot him a surprised and uncomfortable look. ‘Doctor Brenda Spencer if you don’t mind,’ she corrected him.
‘A medical doctor,’ Hunter asserted.
‘If you must know . . . a surgeon.’ A new malevolent smile.
‘This has all been about revenge for your brother’s death?’ Hunter asked, already knowing the answer.
‘Very good, Robert,’ she said overenthusiastically clapping her hands together like a child who’d just been given another unexpected present.
The ghostly silence that followed seemed to go on forever.
‘He committed suicide in his cell,’ Hunter finally offered.
‘He committed suicide because you failed to do your fucking job.’ The anger in her voice was undeniable. ‘To protect and to serve, what a joke. He was innocent and you knew it.’ She paused, letting her words float through the room. ‘He’d told you many times that he would’ve never hurt Linda. He loved her, the sort of love you’d never understand.’ She took a moment to collect herself again. ‘You interviewed him. You knew he was innocent and still you let them sentence him. You could’ve done something, but instead you let them sentence an innocent man to death.’
Hunter remembered the dinner he had at Isabella’s. She’d lied about everything to do with her life, but she did mention a dead brother. That had been a mistake, a slip-up. She was fast to cover it up with the Marine story, saying her brother died serving his country. A bullshit story, but Hunter didn’t pick it up. What he saw in her eyes that night wasn’t sadness. It was rage.
‘It was out of my hands.’ He thought about telling her how he’d tried to convince others of his opinion about her brother’s case, but there was no point now. It wouldn’t make a difference.
‘If you had run the investigation how it should’ve been run you would’ve found the real killer sooner, before my brother lost his mind, before he hanged himself. But you stopped searching.’
‘You can’t blame the police for your brother’s suicide.’
‘I’m not blaming the police. I’m blaming you.’
‘We would’ve found the real killer eventually and your brother would’ve walked free.’
‘No, you wouldn’t have.’ Her voice was angry once again. ‘How would you have found the real killer if you weren’t looking? You’d given up on the investigation because the initial, superficial evidence pointed to John and that was good enough for you and your partner. No need to find the truth. One more successful conviction for the two star detectives. You got to be praised once again and that’s all that mattered. He was convicted of murder, Robert. He was given the death penalty for something he didn’t do. No one gave him the benefit of the doubt, no one including that pathetic excuse for a jury. My brother was classed as a monster. A jealous, murderous monster.’ She paused to take a deep breath. ‘And I lost my entire family because of you, your partner and that fucking, useless, waste-of-space jury. They couldn’t see the truth if it’d danced naked in front of them.’ Her eyes burned with rage.
Hunter gave her a puzzled look.
‘Twenty days after John committed suicide my mother passed away from heart sorrow. Do you know what that is?’
Hunter didn’t answer.
‘She didn’t eat, didn’t speak,