“Have you been threatened? I can offer you protection. A secure wing in a federal prison.”
Bachman didn’t say anything. David stepped forward and Marco put his hand up to stop him.
David ignored Marco. He sidestepped his hand and put his palms on the table. He waited until Bachman looked at him, then he said slowly and clearly, “Adam, we know you met this guy at Greenhaven. We know you’ve been in contact with him up until you were arrested. And we know that he’s the one who killed the Palazzolos. You helped cover it up.” As he said it, David saw in Bachman’s wide eyes that he was guilty. Max had been right all along. Somehow, that didn’t make him feel any better. “Give us his name.”
“What did he do?” Bachman asked, blatantly curious.
“We have him on tape kidnapping a woman,” Marco said.
“When?”
“Last night. Now talk.”
Bachman’s eyes rested on David. “He really did it? He kidnapped Maxine Revere?” He voice was filled with awe and pride, and David’s fist clenched.
“How do you know that?” Marco snapped.
“It’s obvious. Her pet is here, not her. And you think I don’t know who you are? You think I haven’t read all her books? They were practically required reading. Marco Lopez, the federal agent in charge of the Karen Richardson disappearance. And didn’t you arrest her once for obstruction of justice?”
David froze. Why would Bachman have read Max’s books? Why would he have remembered those details? He was in high school during that investigation, more than a thousand miles away from Miami.
What the hell did he mean by required reading?
“Were the two of you planning on kidnapping Ms. Revere from the beginning?” Marco asked.
Bachman opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked down at his hands. There was a shift in his body, a sag, as if he’d made a realization and now didn’t know what to do.
“Give us his name,” Marco said sharply.
“Guard,” Bachman called out. “I’m ready to go back to my cell.”
David lunged. His fist was inches from Bachman’s face when Marco stopped him. David pushed Marco off him and left as the guard entered the room.
That bastard knew exactly what was going on. And it was orchestrated, and not by Bachman who’d been in jail for the last nine months. Why had they planned on grabbing Max? Was that their endgame? Or one more crime in a long list of felonies?
David ignored Ben and Milligan as they stepped out of the observation room. He had to get out, get some space between him and the world, just to breathe.
He left the building and started the long walk back to the studio. He couldn’t think with a crowd. It took two blocks before his heart rate slowed enough that he stopped hearing the pounding behind his ears.
Another block passed before he let himself think about the conversation with Bachman. He considered it clinically.
Once confronted with the truth that the police knew Bachman was associated with Max’s kidnapper, Bachman had relaxed, almost as if he was relieved that the game was over. He was curious about what his friend had done and yet he didn’t seem surprised that Max had been kidnapped. He knew about Max, her books, her background. Had he done the research from jail?
Practically required reading.
Had she been a target from the beginning? Why? She didn’t fit the profile of any of the other victims. But this action didn’t fit the other victims, either. This didn’t fit anything, except for the niggling idea that Max knew something and was being silenced because of it.
Which meant that she was already dead.
If they planned to kill Max anyway, why kidnap her? Why not just shoot her and leave her to be found in the car? Why not make a big splash? Or set it up to be an accident? They had her alone in the car. They had time to do anything they wanted.
Except if Max had learned something recently then the kidnapping couldn’t have been planned. It would have been spontaneous. Yet everything about it pointed to a plan. The kidnapper knew what car service she used, knew she was working late, knew she would be leaving alone. They must have staked out the car service or tapped into the company’s dispatch to know that David wasn’t picking her up.
That might be traceable.
By the time David reached the studio twenty minutes later, he came to the conclusion that Bachman’s partner had kidnapped Max as part of a larger endgame and he had several directions to go. But he still couldn’t see why.
He stood outside the NET building and called Dr. Arthur Ullman’s private phone.
“Dr. Ullman, it’s David Kane. I need your help.”
* * *
Riley parked in front of Greenhaven and took a deep breath.
She had to do this.
The entire drive to Hartford, she’d debated with herself about her crazy idea. She didn’t care (much) that Kyle thought she was way off base; she didn’t care that it was a long shot. She needed to ID the guy who kidnapped Max. He had been here, in Greenhaven, and as David said, the police weren’t going to be able to do anything for days.
Max might not have days. She might not even have tonight.
Finally Riley asked herself what Max would do. Max had risked her life picking through lies in order to learn the truth. She’d started when she was younger than Riley. Riley had read her book about Karen’s disappearance, about how she hounded the police, the FBI, the resort, guests, everyone who might know what had happened to Max’s friend. And Max had only been twenty-two.
Riley’s plan was a much safer idea than what Max had done. She wasn’t confronting a killer. She wasn’t hounding the police or risking her life or freedom. And Riley had a car, she could leave whenever she got the information she needed.
She convinced herself that this was the only way. That this was exactly what Max Revere herself would do.
Riley hid the small, thin laptop that Kyle had loaned her under the front seat of the rental car. She also hid a second cell phone, just in case. And it wasn’t like no one knew where she was—Kyle knew, and she’d left a message with Lara Smith, Ben’s administrative assistant. Gave her Kyle’s number in case there was an emergency. She hoped she’d find the answers tonight and be back early Saturday morning to tell David that she had found Max’s kidnapper. She hoped to be back before anyone at Maximum Exposure even knew she had slipped out.
Maybe then, David would finally believe she added value to the team.
Riley took a deep breath, grabbed her overnight bag, and walked up the steps to the main entrance of Greenhaven. The receptionist who’d been there on Wednesday smiled kindly, and immediately Riley knew she’d done the right thing.
“Ms. Jackson told me you were coming in this afternoon,” the receptionist said. “I’ll show you your room, you can leave your bag, then I’ll introduce you to your counselor. There’s a lot of paperwork to fill out.”
“I’m ready,” Riley said.
“You’ve made the right decision, Ms. Butler.”
Riley was confident she had.
Chapter Twenty-one
David debated ditching Marco so he could meet with Dr. Arthur Ullman one-on-one. David wanted Marco to move mountains to force the police to focus on Max’s disappearance, and his take-charge attitude could benefit them on that end, but with Ullman, Marco’s annoying habit of taking over could work against them.
In the end, David told him about the meeting he’d set up and Marco insisted on joining them at Max’s apartment. It was seven in the evening, and David eyed Marco’s overnight bag as they rode up the elevator, but didn’t say anything. Max would be furious if Marco stayed in her apartment, but right now David yearned for her fury.
Max had been missing for twenty hours.
Marco went right up to Max’s bedroom with his bag, dropped it on her bed, then went up the half flight of stairs into her office. David was about to follow when the house phone rang. He answered, expecting Dr. Ullman had arrived early.
“Mr. Kane,
there’s a Detective Nicholas Santini here requesting access to Ms. Revere’s apartment.”
Santini? What was he doing here? He must have jumped on a cross-country flight not long after David talked to him that morning.
“Send him up,” David said. “And when Dr. Ullman arrives, please send him directly up as well.”
“Of course, Mr. Kane.”
If the situation wasn’t so dire, David would have enjoyed introducing Marco to Nick and watching the fed size up Max’s new boyfriend.
David liked Nick. He’d been a Marine, honorably discharged with honors, and now was a cop in California. He and Max had met six weeks ago, and David wasn’t surprised that Max was attracted to him. Nick was level-headed and smart and could meet Max on her own field yet stand his own ground. David admired that. But David didn’t form close friendships with Max’s boyfriends. The relationships never lasted long. David wanted to believe Nick was different, but only time would tell.
When Nick knocked, David let him in.
“Any word?” Nick asked.
David shook his head. “We have a photo of the kidnapper and the FBI is working with NYPD to ID the guy.”
“So the police did get involved.”
“Contrary to rumors, Max has some friends there.”
“Let me see it.”
David handed him a copy of the image.
“You said the FBI is running him?”
“So far, nothing.”
“What did she get herself into?” Nick asked, almost to himself.
“I should have seen it coming, Nick,” David said quietly.
Nick clamped his hand on David’s shoulder. “We will find her. You’re not alone here.”
The phone rang again, and it was Jorge telling David that Dr. Ullman was on his way up.
“Who’s Ullman?” Nick asked.
“Retired FBI profiler. A friend of Max’s. I hope he can give us a direction to go in. I feel like I’m running in circles, not knowing what the hell this is about.”
David opened the door for Arthur. “Thank you for coming,” he said.
Arthur waved off his comment. “Anything I can do.” He walked in with his well-worn leather briefcase. “Did she put anything new on her wall?”
“A few things. This is Nick Santini, a detective from California.”
“Yes, yes, Max told me she was taking some personal time in California. I see why now.” He smiled, but his eyes were worried. “And you said Marco was here?”
“Upstairs.”
“Time, David. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Arthur crossed the great room and walked up the curving staircase. David followed with Nick, feeling like he’d been kicked in the gut. What did Arthur mean by that? Why didn’t they have time? What did he know?
“Arthur,” Marco said and shook his hand. Marco had already made himself at home at Max’s desk.
“Marco. I’m glad you’re here. We all need to work together on this.”
Marco frowned at Nick, then glanced at David. David made quick introductions, but didn’t feel inclined to explain Nick’s presence to Marco.
Arthur went right over to the wall. “There’s nothing new here except this—what is this about Greenhaven on Wednesday? Who are these people?”
On the wall Max had put up the names of the director, the doctors, the staff member who was fired, and Anna Hudson, Bachman’s counselor.
“Max determined that Bachman spent at least three months at Greenhaven, a mental health facility outside Hartford,” David said. “Jackson is the director, the three names under her are psychiatrists, Janice was a former staffer who told Max that Anna Hudson spontaneously quit after something happened with Adam Bachman. We haven’t been able to find her.”
“Max talked to all these people, except for Anna?”
“Yes.” David clipped a photo of the unsub to the wall under the word partner. “This is the man who kidnapped Max. He was identified by one of Bachman’s former colleagues as someone who visited Bachman at Fringe several times prior to his arrest. He’s approximately six foot one and close to two hundred pounds. Large guy, sleeve tats on his arms, older than Bachman by a few years.”
Arthur didn’t say anything for a minute. He looked at the new information, then opened his briefcase and removed a file. “I contacted a friend of mine in the crime lab. This came out in the trial, according to Max’s notes, but the prosecution didn’t understand the dual purpose of the drug. Trifluoperazine is a sedative that can incapacitate an individual immediately if injected, make them weak and compliant and in higher doses render them unconscious. All victims had traces of this drug in their system. It’s a Class-C regulated drug used by some psychiatrists treating anxiety and depression. There are some nasty side effects, so it’s rarely used anymore in treatment except as a last resort.
“The other point that the prosecution missed is that there were trace elements of another drug in the victims. Ritalin.”
“Isn’t that used for treating ADHD in kids?” Marco asked.
“Yes, among other things. But in many adults it’s a stimulant. I checked the medical records of the victims, and none of them had a current prescription for Ritalin, and only one had been prescribed the drug as a child. I suspect it was used to either wake the victims up after they were secured or to keep them awake.”
“I’m familiar with the case,” Marco said. “Bachman suffocated his victims.”
“There was a third, unidentified drug in three of the victims. I’ve flagged the information and want the FBI to run additional tests on the blood work, but I think this particular drug dissipates after time, even after death. They may not have a clean enough sample.”
“How does that help?” Marco asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Arthur frowned, regained his focus, and said, “The prosecution didn’t press the fact that they suspected Mr. Bachman kept his victims alive and in a state of extreme agitation for twenty-four hours. They gave basic information about empty stomach contents, dehydration. It was probably too scientific for the jury, and because it would equate to torture, they might have felt it was harder to prove because none of the bodies had signs of external torture. Psychological torture is a completely different matter, and that’s what I believe Mr. Bachman was doing. Tormenting his victims until they died on their own, or he decided he was bored.”
David kept his face impassive, but inside he was agitated, picturing Max suffering as Bachman’s other victims suffered.
“How? Why?” Marco asked.
“I believe that Bachman and his partner wanted to terrify their victims. With the drugs their fear would be exponential. At this point, I can only guess to why. The pathology seems too … sophisticated for a hands-off killer like Bachman.”
“Hands-off?” Nick asked.
Arthur nodded. “Maxine was right about that, Bachman had a lifelong phobia about germs and dirt. He would touch the victims only as necessary. But your unsub is far more brutal.” Arthur gestured toward the photo of Max’s kidnapper. “And I don’t see him being so restrained.”
“Why do you think the unsub is more brutal than Bachman?” Marco asked.
“I’m sorry, I’m still formulating my theory.” He looked down at his notes. “O’Hara, right, David? The detective?”
“Yes,” David said. “I asked her to send you everything she had.”
“Thank you, she did. I reviewed the preliminary report on the Palazzolos murders. The autopsy hasn’t been completed, but the killer didn’t understand the properties of sodium hydroxide, or the necessity to keep the reaction going by adding water over time. The bodies were well dissolved, all the flesh gone, but the skulls and many of the bones were still intact. These showed, particularly on the male victim, extensive blunt force trauma. He may have been beaten to death, or close to it. Based on Bachman’s pathology, he would not and could not do this. Bachman’s MO is clear, and based on what I’ve read about his case, he likes to watch. He may have watche
d his partner kill the Palazzolos. He would have been disgusted by it. It’s dirty and messy. He may have refined his own killing process because of it. He suffocated his victims by tying a clear plastic bag over their heads and watching them die. Hands-off. Your other killer is not hands-off. He has impulse control issues, though he’s able to keep them under control for long periods of time. However, he’ll become increasingly violent and unpredictable.”
“We haven’t found him in any criminal database.”
“He may not have been caught, or not since he was a minor. He picked the Palazzolos for a specific reason. They may have reminded him of his parents or grandparents or someone else close to him. If he was in Greenhaven as Max suspected, he was likely there for anger management or substance abuse.”
Nick said, “Doctor, go back to what you said about psychologically torturing your victims. You said that the pathology was too sophisticated for either Bachman or the unsub. Are you saying that there is a third individual?”
“Yes, Detective, I’m saying that there is another person involved. A third killer.”
David stared at Arthur. A third killer? It seemed too unbelievable. He glanced at Nick and Marco. Nick had a dark expression. He’d been the first to pick up on what Arthur was suggesting, and it was clear he believed it. Marco dismissed the idea.
“Do you realize how unlikely a third killer would be?” Marco said. “The partner—I can buy into that. It makes sense. Killing pairs aren’t uncommon. But three? I don’t see it.”
David was skeptical, but he had great respect for Arthur. “How certain are you, Arthur?”
“As much as I can be.” Arthur glanced at Nick. “You see it, Detective, right?”
Nick gave a brief nod. “If you’re accurate in your profile of Bachman and the unsub, it makes sense that there is a third more organized thinker involved.”
Marco opened his mouth to argue but David caught his eye, and said, “If there’s a third, where does he fit in? I’m assuming it’s a man.”
“Most likely,” Arthur said. “I would be looking for an individual who is older, above-average intelligence, and has training in medicine and psychology—possibly a medical school dropout, possibly a doctor or nurse or psychologist.”
Compulsion (Max Revere Novels Book 2) Page 22