“Needed to be done,” she agreed, and would live with that. “Because a child didn’t kill these women. A child didn’t rape and beat and strangle them, mutilate their bodies. A child didn’t put Peabody in the hospital. So no, when it comes down to the line, I don’t feel for John Blue. We had as bad.”
“You had worse.”
“Maybe.” She breathed deep. “Maybe. And like him, I killed my tormentor.”
“Not like him, Eve. Nothing like him.” It was that point, that vital point, he’d wanted to make to her. “You were a child, in desperate terror and pain. Defending yourself, doing whatever you could to make it stop. He was a man, and had the choice of walking away. However she twisted him, he was a man when he committed these acts.”
“The child lives inside. I know that’s shrink pap, but it’s true enough. We’ve both got that lost child in us.”
“And?”
“And we don’t allow that lost, damaged child to strike the innocent. I know. You don’t have to soothe me. I know. We use, I guess, that child to stand for the innocent. Me with my badge, you with places like Dochas. We could’ve gone the other way, but we didn’t.”
“Well, I had a few detours.”
It made her smile, and thank God for him. “And we haven’t finished the trip yet. Roarke.” She touched a hand to his. “You don’t know how hard this is going to be.”
“I have some idea.”
She shook her head, and her face was already bleak. “No, you don’t. I’ve done this before. It’s worse than you can imagine. I’m not going to ask you to go back or hang around the edges, because you won’t. But I’m saying, if you need a break from it, take it. Walk away for a while. Others will, believe me. There’s no shame in it.”
She, he thought, would never walk away. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
She had the back of the house cordoned off. While the dogs and droids were sent in, she took a team into the house. It was dank and foul inside, dark as a cave, but when she called for lights, the place illuminated like a torch.
No dark rooms for John Blue, she thought.
He’d killed them in the bedroom, the smaller of the two. His room, Eve assumed, whenever they’d made the trip here. There were locks on the outside of the door—old locks. Locks she’d undoubtedly installed to keep the boy inside. Lock him in the dark, as her mother had locked her.
So he’d killed her there, on the stained mattress, lying naked on the floor. Killed others there, in her image.
She saw lengths of red cord, remnants of women’s clothing, and the smears and stains of blood that had dried on the mattress, on the floor.
“Everything bagged and tagged,” she ordered. “I want a full sweep. Personal items of some of the vic’s may include their identification. When it’s done, I want the porta-lab and tech in here to get samples of the blood. We’re going to ID every victim he brought here.”
“Lieutenant?” One of the team stepped up. He wore his full protective suit, but had yet to attach the mask and filter. “We’re locating them.”
“How many so far?”
“Dogs just found number seven, and it doesn’t look like they’re done.”
“On my way.”
Feeney hustled over to join her. His Mrs. Feeney suit was smeared with cobwebs and muck. “Found a Robo-dig in the basement. Looks fairly new. Been used.”
“Why use a shovel when you can use a machine? And one that makes a manly hum. Neighbors could’ve heard that.”
“I’ll dispatch some uniforms, start the knock on doors.”
“Get it started.” She pulled on her protective suit, carried her mask out into the rain.
Found seven, she thought. No, they hadn’t finished yet. She knew exactly how many more would be found.
Droids scooted along the uneven ground. One of the dogs barked, and his body went into a shiver of wagging as he snuffed along the ground. At his handler’s signal, he sat, waited.
He’d done his job. And they put up the marker for number eight.
Eve walked to Whitney who stood under a wide, black umbrella. “Sir. Do you want me to begin evacuation?”