by Chris Mooney
'You don't have to fight anymore. You're safe. You're inside a hospital now. There are people here who are going to help you get better.'
Rachel Swanson wasn't listening. She eased her head back against the pillow and shut her eyes.
You're not getting anywhere. Try something else.
Darby slipped her hand inside Rachel's, the woman's bony fingers lifeless and rough against her skin.
'I'll protect you, Rachel. Tell me where he is, and I'll find him.'
'I told you, he's here.'
'What's his name?'
'I don't know his name.'
'What does he look like?'
'He doesn't have a face. He keeps changing his face.'
'What do you mean?'
Rachel started shaking.
'It's okay,' Darby said. 'I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you.'
'You were there. You saw what he did to Paula and Marci.'
'I know, but I'm having trouble remembering. Remind me what happened.'
Rachel's bottom lip quivered. She didn't answer.
'I saw the letters and numbers you wrote on your wrist,' Darby said. 'The letters are directions, aren't they? L equals left, R equals right.'
Rachel opened her eyes. 'It doesn't matter if you go right or left or straight, they all lead to dead ends, remember?'
'But you found a way out.'
'There's no way out of here, there are only places to hide.'
'What do the numbers mean?'
'You've got to find the key before he comes back. Look under my bed, I might have dropped it there.'
'Rachel, I need -'
'FIND THE KEY!'
As Darby pretended to look around the floor, she wondered if Rachel would reveal more information if she wasn't in her restraints. Lomborg would never allow it – not without him being in the room, not without the orderlies present.
'Did you find it, Terry?'
'I'm still looking.'
Think. Don't let this opportunity slip away. Think.
'Hurry, the door's going to open any minute,' Rachel said.
No one was standing outside the door; no one was even near the door. As much as she hated the idea, Darby wanted to go consult that stuffy prick Lomborg and see if he had any ideas.
'I can't find it,' Darby said.
'It's here, I just dropped it.'
'I'm going to get help.'
Rachel Swanson bucked against her restraints. 'DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE WITH HIM, DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME ALONE AGAIN.'
Darby grabbed her hand. 'It's okay. I won't let him hurt you, I promise.'
'Don't leave me, Terry, please don't leave me.'
'I won't leave you. I'm not going anywhere.' Using her foot, Darby pulled a chair over and sat down. Think.
Okay. Rachel thinks we're still trapped, so let's go along with the delusion.
'Who else is in here with us?'
'There's no one left,' Rachel said. 'Paula and Marci are dead, and Chad…' Rachel started crying again.
'What happened to Chad?'
Rachel wouldn't answer.
'Paula and Marci,' Darby said. 'What are their last names? I can't remember.'
No answer.
'There's someone else down here with us,' Darby said. 'Her name is Carol. Carol Cranmore.'
'There's no one named Carol in here.'
'She's sixteen. She needs our help.'
'I haven't seen her. Is she new?'
'Where is she?'
Think, don't blow it.
'I heard her cry out for help,' Darby said, 'but I can't see her.'
'She must be on the other side. How long has she been down here?'
'A little over a day.'
'She's probably still sleeping. He always makes them sleep when they first get here, puts drugs in the food. The doors won't open for awhile, then. There's still time.'
'What's he going to do to her?'
'Is she tough? Is she a fighter?'
'She's scared,' Darby said. 'We need to help her.'
'We need to get to her before the doors open. You've got to get me out of these handcuffs.'
'What happens when the doors open?'
'Get me out of these handcuffs, Terry.'
'I will, just tell me -'
'I've helped you, Terry. All those times I showed you where to hide, all those times I protected you – now it's your turn to help me. Get me out of these goddamn handcuffs right now.'
'I will. Let's call out to Carol and tell her what to do.'
Rachel Swanson stared at the ceiling.
'Carol needs our help, Rachel. Tell her what to do.'
The tape ended with a loud click. Rachel didn't move, didn't look; she just kept staring at the ceiling.
Darby flipped the tape over and started recording.
It didn't matter. Rachel Swanson refused to speak.
Chapter 31
Darby was exhilarated and scared, running on fumes of hope. She pushed the door open, wanting to find a pen and paper, afraid that if she didn't write everything down she'd lose it. She reminded herself she didn't have to rush. The whole conversation was caught on tape.
The crowd outside Rachel Swanson's room had doubled. Darby scanned the faces, looking for Coop – there he was, at the far end of the hallway, talking on the phone behind the reception area. He hung up just as she reached him.
'That was the lab,' Coop said. 'Leland just got a call from Banville. A package with Dianne Cranmore's name was found on the stairs of a house in Belham, about twenty minutes away from where Carol lives. The return address has Carol's name on it. As far as I know, nobody saw who dropped it.'
'What's in the package?'
'Don't know yet. It's on the way to the lab.'
'I want you to head back to the lab and wait for the package. Ask Mary Beth to do a search for two more names – Paula and Marci. I don't know their last names. Tell her to limit the search to New England.'
'And what are you going to do?'
'I need to talk to Lomborg.'
'Be nice,' Coop said.
Lomborg's mood had not improved. He crossed his arms as he listened to her idea about temporarily removing Rachel Swanson's restraints.
'There is absolutely no way in hell I'll allow that,' Lomborg said.
'What if we move her to a psychiatric facility? We'd be better equipped there, and you could watch her over a monitor.' Some rooms, Darby knew, were equipped with cameras to watch patients.
Lomborg looked like he was about to take the bait, but Dr Hathcock was shaking her head.
'We can't move her until the sepsis is under control,' Hathcock said. 'She seems to be responding to antibiotics, but that could change. The next forty-eight hours are critical.'
'Carol Cranmore might not have that kind of time,' Darby said.
'I hear you – and God knows I'd do anything in my power to help you find that missing girl,' Hathcock said. 'But my first and primary responsibility is my patient. I can't allow her to be moved until the sepsis is under control – and I can't allow her to be taken out of the restraints. She's hooked up to IV lines. In the mental condition she's in, she'd probably rip them out.'
'Could we take them out for a short period of time? Say, an hour?' Darby was desperate, willing to clutch at any possibility.
'It's too risky,' Hathcock said. 'We need to get the sepsis under control. I'm sorry.'
Alone inside the woman's bathroom, Darby splashed cold water on her face until her skin was numb.
Darby ran her wet hands against the cool porcelain edges of the sink. During the first year of Mel's disappearance, Darby often touched things, their textures a way of reassuring herself that she was alive. As she dried off her hands, she prayed for Carol to be clever, to find a way to survive.
Coming out of the bathroom, Darby rounded the corner, heading for the elevators. Mathew Banville was in the waiting room. Standing next to him, dressed in a sharp suit, was Special Agent Evan Manning.
Chapter 3
2
Time had been kind to Evan Manning. His short brown hair was a bit grayer, but he was still lean and fit, his face still seriously handsome.
What Darby remembered clearly, even after all this time, was the quiet intensity he carried in his face. Evan Manning, she saw, was looking at her that way right now.
Banville did the introductions. 'Darby, this is Special Agent Manning from the Investigative Support Unit.'
'Darby,' Evan said. 'Darby McCormick?'
'It's nice to see you again, Special Agent Manning.' Darby shook his hand.
'I don't believe this,' Evan said. 'You still look the same.'
'How do you two know each other?' Banville asked.
'I met Special Agent Manning when he worked the Victor Grady case,' Darby said.
'The auto mechanic who abducted those women back in eighty-four?'
'That's him.'
'Eighty-four,' Banville said. 'That would make you, what, about fourteen?'
'Fifteen. I knew two of Grady's victims.'
'He killed one of them, didn't he? Shot a young girl in a botched abduction, if I remember correctly.'
'He stabbed her.' In a flash Darby saw her foyer walls splashed with Stacey Stephens's blood. 'As for the other women, we're pretty sure Grady strangled them.'
'How did you know they were strangled? The police never found the bodies.'
'Grady recorded some of his… sessions with his victims. On a couple of the tapes, the women made sounds that were consistent with someone being strangled – at least that's what I read in the reports.' Darby turned to Evan for confirmation.
'Grady kept the audiotapes in a lockbox hidden in his basement,' Evan said. The heat from the fire damaged most of the recordings.'
Banville nodded, satisfied by the explanation. 'Special Agent Manning is the new division head of the ISU's Boston office. AFIS alerted him early this morning when Rachel Swanson's fingerprint was identified. He's offered us access to his labs, anything we need.'
'I understand you were in there talking to Rachel Swanson,' Evan said. 'Did she tell you anything useful?'
'She mentioned the names of two more missing women. We're looking into that right now. The whole conversation's right here.' Darby held up the tape recorder. 'What about this package that's on the way to the lab?'
'It's a padded mailer,' Banville said. 'I have no idea what's in it.'
'I'm going to head over. Rachel's done speaking to me at the moment.' She turned to Evan. 'Why was the FBI alerted about Rachel Swanson's fingerprints?'
'I'll explain everything when we get to the lab. My car's in the garage. Can I offer you a ride?'
Darby looked to Banville for direction.
'I've already filled in Agent Manning on what we've found,' Banville said. 'I'll meet you at the lab as soon as I finish up here.'
Chapter 33
'How long have you been working as a criminalist?' Evan asked after the elevator doors shut.
'About eight years,' Darby said. 'I did an internship in New York for about a year, and when the Boston lab had an opening I applied for the job and here I am. How long have you been working in Boston?'
'About six months. I needed a change of scenery.'
'Getting burned out?'
'I was getting dangerously close. The last case I worked on nearly did me in.'
'Which one?'
'Miles Hamilton.'
The All-American Psycho,' Darby said. The former teenage psychopath, now confined to a mental asylum, was believed to have murdered more than twenty young women. 'I hear he's gearing up for a retrial because of possible tainted evidence by one of your profilers.'
'I don't know anything about that.'
'Will Hamilton get a retrial?'
'Not if I have anything to say about it.'
The elevator doors chimed open. Evan suggested they leave through the back entrance – no reporters there.
The sun was bright and strong as they jogged across the street to the parking garage. Evan didn't speak again until they were pulling onto Cambridge Street.
'Banville told me about the listening devices you found.'
'I'm surprised you persuaded him so easily,' Darby said. 'I was expecting more of a fight.'
'Banville is under the spotlight. He needs to be able to say he exhausted every resource when the Cranmore girl turns up dead.'
'I don't think she's dead.'
'Why's that?'
'Rachel Swanson was kept alive for almost five years – Terry Mastrangelo for two. That may buy us some time.'
'Right now one of his victims is lying in a hospital room. If he's smart, he'll kill the Cranmore girl, bury her body someplace where we'll never find her and then blow town.'
'Then why would he bother with the listening devices?'
'I think he's hoping to discover just how much we know about him so he can change his tactics before he moves on,' Evan said. 'What are your thoughts?'
'He seems very organized, very careful and methodical. I think he watches these women for a long time, gets to know their habits and routines – I think he had a key to Carol's house. He brings his victims to a private place where nobody can see or hear them.'
'And what does he use them for?'
'I don't know.'
'You think it's something sexual?'
'There's no evidence of that, although there's always some sexual component to these sorts of cases. Did Banville tell you about the evidence we found at the house?'
Evan nodded. 'Our lab is still trying to identify the paint chip.'
'You didn't seem surprised Carol's abductor left a package.'
'He's trying to establish control. It's what most psychopaths do when cornered.'
'Is that what you think we're dealing with here? A psychopath?'
'Hard to say. I'm not a big fan of labels.'
'I thought you profiling types lived for labels – and acronyms. There's your fingerprint system. AFIS. You have CODIS -'
'You can't slap a label on every type of behavior,' Evan said. 'Have you considered the possibility that the man you're looking for abducts these women simply because he likes it?'
'There's a motivating reason behind every type of human behavior.'
'What made you interested in this field?'
'Are you profiling me, Special Agent Manning?'
'You're avoiding the question.'
'I took a criminal psychology course in college. After that, I was hooked.'
'Banville told me you went on to get a doctorate in criminal psychology.'
'I'm not a doctor yet,' Darby said. 'I still have to do my dissertation.'
'Which is?'
'I have to pick a case and analyze it.'
'And you picked the Grady case.'
'I've been toying around with the idea.'
'What's stopping you?'
'There are some missing pieces in the case file,' Darby said. 'Riggers, the detective who handled the Belham case, didn't leave much detailed information in his notes.'
'I'm not surprised. In addition to being an idiot, the man was lazy. Tell me what you know and I'll see if I can fill in the blanks.'
'I was able to look over the evidence files – the chloroform-soaked rag Grady dropped in the woods behind my house and the dark blue fibers he left behind in the bedroom door. I also read a copy of the fed's lab report. I know they identified the manufacturer of the rag. They narrowed down their search to automobile shops in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island. The blue fibers matched the same brand of coveralls used at the North Andover automobile shop where Grady worked.'
'We found all that out later, after Grady died.'
'I read that,' Darby said. 'I also read about Grady's criminal record. He had two counts of attempted rape.'
'Correct.'
'According to the case file, Riggers was investigating about a dozen or so possible suspects. What made him move Grady to the top of the list?'
'A tip came through on t
he hotline about Grady. The caller, a regular customer at the garage where Grady worked, called in and said he saw a pearl necklace on the floor of Grady's car. The necklace appeared to have blood on it.'
'But why didn't the caller report it to the police? Why did he call the hotline?'
'Because one of the missing women, Tara Hardy, was last seen wearing a pink cardigan sweater and a pearl necklace,' Evan said. 'That picture ran in the papers for weeks. It was all over the TV. The caller thought it might have belonged to her. The hotline was being flooded with calls. Everyone was trying to cash in on the reward money.'
'And then what happened?'
'Riggers, wanting to be the hero, took it upon himself to search Grady's house. Riggers found clothing belonging to several of the missing women and left to get the search warrant. The problem was one of Grady's neighbors saw Riggers invite himself into the house.'
'Making the evidence he found inadmissible.'
'If he had played by the book, we probably would have nailed Grady before he killed himself
'Did his suicide surprise you?'
'It did at first. Later, we discovered his family had a history of mental illness. His mother was bipolar. If I remember correctly, his grandfather committed suicide.'
'I saw that in the notes.'
'My guess is Grady got spooked after Riggers went through the house. The day he killed himself, we went to the garage where he worked with a search warrant. I think he felt the walls starting to close in on him and took the easy way out.'
'The case file mentioned that Riggers was bothered by the fire,' Darby said. 'He thought someone might have killed Grady and started the fire to burn away evidence.'
'The fire bothered me too. What bothered me more was what Grady used to kill himself – a twenty-two.'
'I'm not following.'
'Cops generally use a twenty-two as a throw-down piece. You ever hear a twenty-two go off? Makes a small pop, you can barely hear it. If someone slipped inside Grady's house and shot him, you wouldn't hear it, especially if something like the TV or the radio was turned on. There were rumors someone clipped Grady. I'm sure you heard them.'
'No.'
'I was at Grady's house the night of the fire,' Evan said. 'I was watching his house. I would have seen someone.'