Stampler roared with pain. He grabbed the lamp and with his other hand hit Venable on the jaw. The blow knocked her backwards against the other wall. Stampler grabbed the lamp with both hands and swung it over-handed.
She felt the heavy metal hit her cheek, felt the bones crush and a searing pain in her eye. Blood flooded down into her mouth. Her legs gave out and she fell to the floor, looking up at the enraged killer through one eye.
Stampler turned to get the knife, but Stenner had rolled over. It was under him. The madman ran around the corner into the kitchen, grabbed a dish towel, and pressed it against the wound in his jaw. He pulled open a drawer, dumped its contents on the floor. He pulled out another and another and finally found the knife drawer. He snatched up a vicious-looking boning knife and raced back into the living room. But as he did, Stenner rolled over and, with great effort, slid his 9mm pistol across the hardwood floor to Venable. She grabbed it as Stampler rushed into the room from the kitchen. Half conscious and in pain, she swung the gun up and fired. It tore a corner off the kitchen cabinet. Stampler dived into the living room, scrambling for cover. She fired again and again. He skittered along behind a sofa. A shot ripped into it, bursting through the other side in a cloud of cotton and foam rubber. Stampler grabbed a chair. Hunched over, he ran towards a window, shoved the chair through it, dived through the shower of glass, and ran towards Stenner's car.
Inside, Venable rolled over on her stomach. She stared through her good eye at Stenner, who had the knife in his hand. He went limp and the knife slipped out of his grasp. He fell forward.
Outside, she heard Stenner's car start and roar away.
'Abel…' Venable moaned, and passed out.
Thirty-Five
When Shock Johnson arrived at Judge Harry Shoat's condominium, three patrol cars were already there. The six patrolmen had searched the grounds around the perimeter of the two-storey building, but on Johnson's instructions had not attempted to enter the condo.
'We knocked on the door and tried him on the phone,' said a sergeant who had taken charge of the small force. 'No answer from inside and no answer on the phone.'
'Shit,' Johnson grumbled. He tucked his hands in his rear pockets and stared at the house.
'What's the layout, Sergeant?' he asked, without taking his eyes off the condo.
'One-floor condominium. The people upstairs are wintering in Georgia, so he's the only one in the building right now. There's a terrace with a six-foot fence around there on the side, windows in back and on that side. The place is dark and his car's in the garage.'
'Where the hell's his goddamn bodyguard? What's his name?'
'Hicks, sir. I called him. The judge dismissed him, told him to go home. Hicks drives his car here every morning and they travel in the judge's Mercedes, that's why it's in the garage.'
'Wasn't Shoat warned?'
'Hicks said he laughed at Vail.'
'Christ. Eckling's gonna have me for lunch when he gets back from Atlanta.'
'The chief's in Atlanta?'
'Yeah, at some lawmen's convention. Free drinks and food what that's about.' He looked around, pointed to a young, athletic patrolman. 'What's your name, son?' he asked.
'Jackowitz, sir.'
'Take that fence and see if you can see anything through the terrace door. I don't wanna go kickin' in anythin' until I'm sure he's in there.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Take a walkie-talkie and be cautious.'
Jackowitz took the fence like a pro, jumping up and grabbing the top slat, chinning himself, and swinging first one leg then the other over the top. He dropped down onto the terrace.
Johnson waited.
The walkie-talkie crackled to life.
'Terrace door's unlocked, sir.' Jackowitz reported.
'Oh, shit,' Johnson moaned. 'You got a flashlight?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Take a look inside, but be careful.'
'Going in.'
There was a minute or two of silence, then: 'Oh, sweet Jesus, Lieutenant, I ain't believing this. I'm opening the front door.'
Johnson walked to the entrance and a moment later the front lights flickered on and the door swung open and Jackowitz stared out at them. Even in the dim light he was pale and swallowing hard.
'I been on the force twelve years, sir, I never seen anything the likes of this.'
Johnson walked into the foyer and turned into the living room. Shoat was lying in the middle of the room, naked, his arms folded across his chest as if he had been laid out by a funeral director. The destruction of the body was profound, from the wounds on his torso, legs, and arms, to the emasculation of his private parts. There was blood everywhere. Johnson stared at the scene for a full two minutes, the muscles in his jaw twitching.
Finally he said, 'Where the hell's his head?' to nobody in particular.
'Good question,' Jackowitz answered in a hoarse whisper.
Vulpes held the towel hard against his jaw to stem the bleeding. It was already beginning to swell and pain was etched into the side of his face. He had the city map on his lap marked with the route from the halfway house to Venable's place and back to Hydra's apartment. He watched his speed. He had to ditch Stenner's car fast, forced to assume that Venable had called in the report and his situation had suddenly became desperate.
What shitty luck, he thought. First, Stenner had brought her home instead of Vail. And then the bitch had screwed everything up. That was twice she had tried to kill him. Once in court, where she tried to send him to the chair, and again tonight.
Okay, so he had got Stenner instead of Vail. And he had smashed the bitch up good, maybe scrambled her brains. Poetic justice. As his own brain raced, he momentarily forgot the pain in his jaw.
He was cautious when he got to Hydra's apartment. He drove past it. The street looked safe. He parked at the opposite end of the street. Too bad Hydra didn't have a phone; he could have called her, told her to split, to follow him until he could find a good spot to ditch the car. He would have to take a chance, go up to her place and get her out of there.
As he got out of the car, he saw the police car. It was a block away and it cruised in quietly, parking perpendicular to the street he was on. Two cops got out, strolled to the corner, and crossed to Hydra's apartment building. They looked around, went in the front door.
They're on to her, he thought. How the hell did they get on to her? He decided he had to abandon Hydra. But she knew the plan. He didn't think she would talk, though she was now so far over the edge he couldn't be sure. He got back in, pulled the door shut, and started the car. Then he saw the two policemen come around the side of the house and return to their car.
He sat in Stenner's darkened sedan. Maybe they were just answering a disturbance call. Maybe it was just a coincidence and they would leave. He decided to give them a few minutes.
Meyer drove the car to the row-house apartment south of Garfield Park. Vail sat in the backseat, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. St Claire turned in the shotgun seat and looked back at him.
'What about Vulpes?' he asked. 'We got enough to pull him in?'
'For talking to a computer? We need the woman, then we'll decide. We're still not positive she's the copycat.'
'He's not going anywhere,' said Meyer. 'He's home singing duets with Jimmy Durante.'
'Okay,' said St Claire.
'You disagree?' Vail asked.
'Nope, just thinkin' out loud.'
'You got another nudge?' asked Meyer.
'Kinda.'
'What's a kinda nudge?' Meyer asked.
'It's just, you know, a kinda nudge. Ain't a full-fledged nudge yet.'
'Your nudges make me nervous, Harve,' Vail said.
'Why?'
'Because most of the time they turn out to be harbingers of doom.'
'Can't help it, just happens.'
'I'm not knocking it, I'm just saying they make me nervous.'
The police car was parked a block away from R
udi Hines's apartment. The driver was an old-timer named John Bohane. His partner, Richard Luscati, was a rookie, two months on the job.
'Lieutenant Johnson said we should wait here for you, Mr Vail, so as not to rile anybody up. We did walk down there and look around.'
'And…?'
'Her car's parked around back in an alley. Bonnet's warm. And there's a lot of blood on the front seat.'
'Uh-oh,' St Claire said.
'You think she's in there then?' Vail asked.
'Yes, sir, I do.'
'Okay, let's do this cautiously. This lady should be considered armed and dangerous.'
'Right.'
Meyer pulled the car in front of the patrol car and parked. The five men walked up the quiet deserted street to the converted row house.
'That's her apartment,' Bohane said, pointing to the corner of the second floor.
'There a back door?' St Claire asked.
'Uh-huh.'
'Whyn't you two go in the back, we'll take the front, just in case she decides to take a drive.'
'Right.'
The two patrolmen disappeared quietly down the paved walk that separated the two houses. Vail, St Claire, and Meyer walked quietly to the front door.
Vulpes watched as the second car pulled up beside the police car. He couldn't see what was going on. Then the new arrival pulled over to the kerb in front of the patrol car and three men got out. The cops joined them. They started across the street towards the apartment building. As they passed under the street light, he recognized Vail. His pulse throbbed in his jaw, increasing the pain, but he ignored it. He was overwhelmed with hatred. There was Vail, a block away, and he could do nothing about it.
Damn you, damn you, Vail! You figured it out faster than I gave you credit for.
Well, perhaps the police did not know about the attack on Stenner and Venable yet. Stenner was surely dead. Venable was out cold, so probably Stenner's car wasn't hot yet.
Maybe I hurt the bitch more than I thought. He laughed thinking about it. Still, he had to ditch the car in a hurry.
It was too late to help Hydra. Hopefully she was so far over the edge, she wouldn't give away the rest of the plan. Too bad, he thought. It was such a perfect plan and she had carried it out flawlessly until now. But Venable had screwed him up and now Vail had beat him to her.
He had to get away from there, lift another car and ditch Stenner's. He checked the map and found a group of high-rise apartments. Perfect, he thought. He had to find a parking lot and heist another car.
Goodbye, Hydra. Sorry it didn't work out.
He wheeled the car into a U-turn and headed for North River.
'Lemme go first,' St Claire said, arcing a wad of chewing tobacco into the grass.
'How come you go first?' Meyer asked.
' 'Cause I got the gun,' St Claire said. He drew a .357 Magnum from under his coat and led the way inside. A poorly lit hallway was swallowed up by darkness and a flight of stairs on one side led to the second floor. A moment later the two patrolmen emerged from the other end of the hall.
'We're clear,' Bohane said. 'Her car's still back there.' The patrolmen led the way, followed by St Claire, Meyer, and Vail. Bohane knocked on the door.
'Ms Hines?' he called out.
Inside the apartment Rudi Hines was in the bathroom. She stood naked in front of the sink, scrubbing her hands, the water pouring off her hands tinged with red. When she heard the rap on the door, she hurriedly threw on a cotton housecoat and stepped from the bathroom into the living room.
It was sparsely furnished. A sofa with its springs sagging to the floor, a round kitchen table with two chairs, two easy chairs in the same disrepair as the sofa. The only light came from the 60 watt bulb in a floor lamp near the door.
'Is it you?' she cried eagerly.
She heard the muffled reply. 'Ms Hines, it's the police. We need to talk to you. It's about your car.'
She went back into the bathroom and emerged a moment later with a large carving knife clutched in one hand. She backed into a dark corner of the room.
'Look, ma'am,' St Claire said, standing near the door. 'We don't wanna have to bust up your door. Just open up and talk to us for a minute.'
'Go away.'
In the hall, St Claire looked at Vail and shrugged. He turned to Bohane. 'Waste it,' he ordered.
The two cops drew their revolvers. Bohane stepped back and slammed his foot into the door an inch or two from the knob. It burst open. Somewhere down the hall a door opened and a dim face peered out. 'Go back inside,' Vail said. 'And stay there.' The face disappeared and the door closed. The two patrolmen jumped inside the room. Bohane first, Luscati covering him, then St Claire behind them. St Claire saw her first, standing in the shadows.
'Lemme do the talking,' he said softly, and to her, 'Now why'd you make us go and do that?'
'What do you want?' she said. She saw Vail enter the room. Her eyes blazed in the dim light. 'I know who you are,' she hissed.
'Ms Hines, I'm Martin Vail, acting district attor—'
'I know who you are. Why aren't you out there?'
'Out where?'
'What do you want?'
'Ma'am, do you also go under the name Rene Hutchinson?' St Claire asked.
She backed further into the corner, her eyes peering at them from the darkness. She lurked in the shadows, but Vail could see one hand in the spilled light from the lamp. It was still covered with dried blood.
' "'Vengeance with its sacred light shines upon you." Sophocles,' she whispered.
'Miss Hines, do you also go by the name—'
'I am Hydra,' she said. She held the knife tight at her side, within the folds of the housecoat.
'Do you know Aaron Stampler?'
'There's no such person.'
'Do you know Raymond Vulpes?'
' "Revenge is sweeter than flowing honey." Homer.'
'Do you know the Fox?' St Claire said, cutting her off.
' "Punishment is justice for the unjust." '
'Listen here, ma'am…'
She glared from the darkness at Vail. 'What are you doing here?' she demanded.
'Where should I be?' Vail asked.
'With her.'
'With who?'
' "To die is a debt we must all pay." '
The two patrolmen looked at each other quizzically. Meyer looked around the room. On a table near the door he saw a small tape recorder. It was caked with blood.
'Look here, ma'am, we know you're Rene Hutchinson. Wouldn't you like to tell us where Fox is?' He took a step towards her. 'We need to talk to you and Fox.'
'I taught him everything he knows,' she whispered suddenly and with pride.
'What was that?' St Claire asked.
'I taught him everything he knows.'
Meyer moved sideways to the table. He took out a pencil and punched the play button of the recorder.
'Stop that!' she shrieked.
'Order. Order in the courtroom.' The hollow sound of a gavel rapping. Then:
'The prince who keeps the world in awe;
The judge whose dictates fix the law;
The rich, the poor, the great, the small,
Are levelled; death confounds them all.
Greetings from Daisyland, Judge.'
Vail immediately recognized the voice on the tape. It was Vulpes.
'Miss Hutchin - ' St Claire started to say, but the woman suddenly charged out of the darkness. She rushed straight towards Vail. The knife glittered in her hand.
St Claire moved quickly in front of him, aiming his gun at Hydra as she charged.
'Hold it!' he ordered, but she didn't stop.
The rookie cop panicked and shot her in the chest.
She screamed. The knife twirled from her hand and she was knocked backward, landing flat on her back on the floor. She lay there, gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling.
'Thank you,' she whispered. 'Thank you…'
The rookie lost it. He stared do
wn at her in horror. 'Oh God! Oh sweet God, why didn't you stop when I told you?' he screamed at her.
'Shut up, Ritch. Call the medics.'
'She charged us with a knife,' the rookie babbled. 'I didn't… didn't…'
His cheeks suddenly ballooned. He clasped his hand over his nose and mouth and raced to the bathroom.
'I got eighteen years in, never fired my gun except on the range,' Bohane said disgustedly. 'He's on the street two months and shoots a woman.' He shook his head. 'I'll call an ambulance.'
'Use this,' Vail said, handing him the portable phone. The cop dialled 911.
St Claire kneeled down beside Hydra.
'Rene Hutchinson?' he asked.
'I am Hydra,' she said faintly.
'Who named you that?'
'Fox. Fox knows everything. But I taught him everything he knows.'
St Claire's 'kinda' nudge suddenly became a reality. He was remembering some notes he had read among the files on Stampler. Notes that Tommy Goodman had written ten years before after his return from a trip to Kentucky, to do background on Stampler.
'How did you meet him?' St Claire asked Hydra.
'I have known him forever.'
'You're Rebecca, aren't you?'
'I am… Hydra.'
'Before that. You were Rebecca?'
Her voice faded to a whisper. 'Taught him every… thing he knows,' she said.
'Jesus, you're his teacher, ain't ya?'
She didn't answer.
'When did you first contact him, Rebecca?'
For just an instant her memory streaked back to the young boy with the brutal strap marks on his buttocks who sat in the corner of her living room, devouring her books and the passages she had marked for him; to a time when it had been just the two of them, alone in the sanctuary of her house, sheltered from the brutal world around them as they made love in front of the fire. Then, suddenly, the moment dissolved into a clear, hot, white light.