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When he returned to the apartment, it was difficult to miss the sharp knife lying on the coffee table next to the canvas duffel bag. As if she didn t own
enough weapons. First there was the very large gun which bulged under the blazer. She removed this now and took it into a back room. Then there
was the gun that she ought to be carrying, the one the police department actually approved of. He supposed she kept that one at home. And last,
there was Markowitz s ancient Long Colt, which she kept in the desk of her office at Mallory and Butler, Ltd. He would never have pictured her with a
knife.
He picked it up and turned it in his hand. On the reverse side of the blade was the crest of Maximillian Candle.
 It s probably none of my business, said Mallory, walking back into the room and nodding towards the knife,  but I wondered what was going on in
the basement. I just came from there. The door was unlocked, and the partition for Max s equipment was wide open.
 My fault, I left in rather a hurry. You didn t by any chance pull that knife out of the target, did you?
She nodded.
Charles stared down at the knife and forgot to ask what had brought her to the basement, so great was his surprise. It was the wrong knife of
course. All the blades that came from the interior of the target were partial blades without points, and fixed to the mechanism. They could be pushed
back into the compartments but not drawn out, and not with a full blade and a point.
When he had explained it to Mallory, she asked,  Could anyone else have been in the basement with you and Justin?
 Well, it s possible, but I doubt it.
 Did you tell the parents what happened in the basement?
 Yes, of course. I called them from the office. It took me forty minutes to track them down to a cocktail party. The child had been in trauma. They had
a right to know he was upset.
 Well, you also left the basement door open. Has the boy had time to go back and change the knives, the boy or one of the parents?
 But the front door of the building wasn t unlocked. It s self  
 And we both know that a kid can bypass that security. How tough do you think it would be for an adult?
 I just can t picture one of them  
 Easier to picture that scenario than a knife flying through the air on its own. Someone has gone to some trouble here, and this is quite an
escalation from flying pencils. This business has got to be cleaned up, and it s up to you. I ve got my hands full with a murderer.
 You truly believe someone in the Riccalo family is going to get hurt?
 Oh, sure. It s coming. Count on it.
 There s no supportable argument for that.
 So?
So, when did logic ever interfere with her train of thought? It was her method first to settle upon a target hypothesis and then to move toward it with
great velocity, and let nothing get between her and it.
An eye-blink ago, the space by Mallory s feet had been empty, and now it was full of cat. Nose was picking up her bad habits.
 Are you still planning to wrap up Amanda s death by the twenty-sixth?
She nodded.  If I don t move on it now, I ll lose him. If I string him out too far, he might get to a lawyer before I can nail him.
 Lucky for you, all three suspects are spending the holidays in town.
 If one of them had left town, I would ve crossed him off the list.
 But logically  
 Logic only works on paper.
 Jack Coffey seems to think  
 You talked to Coffey? You didn t tell him about the novel, did you?
 No. Why didn t you tell him? Why all the secrecy? You work with these people. No, wait, fool. She doesn t. She works alone.
 A cop is leaking information. I m not taking any more chances.
 But you re taking terrible chances. Suppose you ve underestimated the murderer. Coffey says you underestimate every  
Mallory s posture was ramrod straight. Her chin lifted only a little.
 I know this man. He cleaned that apartment over and over again. He cleaned things he couldn t have touched. He had to be absolutely sure he
wouldn t miss anything. And so he can never be sure he didn t miss something. He s the only one who can tie me to Amanda Bosch, because he s
the only one who knows she s dead, and that I was mistaken for her. He wants to run, but he can t. He figures I know something, but he doesn t know
how much. It s driving him crazy, me being here. Every message I leave on the computer puts him closer to the edge. He can t leave. He was my
prisoner the day I moved into this condo. He s waiting for me to come and get him. Every knock on his front door is the end for him. When he can t
stand it any more, when he snaps, he ll come to me. And I will pick that moment. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]