The Coffin Dancer (Lincoln Rhyme 2)

"I need to wash my hands."

"You do?"

"To get the blood off them. It soaked through the gloves."

"Oh. It's right there. Why do you wear gloves all the time? Fingerprints?"

"That's right."

"You were in the army, right? I knew it."

Stephen was about to lie, changed his mind suddenly. He said, "No. I was almost in the army. Well, the marines. I was going to join. My stepfather was a marine and I was going in like him."

"Semper Fi."

"Right."

There was silence and Jodie was looking at him expectantly. "What happened?"

"I tried to enlist but they wouldn't let me in."

"That's stupid. Wouldn't let you? You'd make a great soldier." Jodie was looking Stephen up and down, nodding. "You're strong. Great muscles. I"--he laughed--"I don't hardly get any exercise, 'cept running from niggers or kids want to mug me. And they always catch me anyway. You're handsome too. Like soldiers ought to be. Like the soldiers in movies."

Stephen felt the wormy feeling going away and, my God, he started blushing. He stared at the floor. "Well, I don't know about that."

"Come on. Your girlfriend thinks you're handsome, bet."

Little cringey here. Worms starting to move.

"Well, I--"

"Don't you have a girlfriend?"

Stephen asked, "You got that water?"

Jodie pointed to the box of Poland Spring. Stephen opened two bottles and began washing his hands. Normally he hated people watching him do this. When people watched him wash he kept being cringey and the worms never went away. But for some reason he didn't mind Jodie watching.

"No girlfriend, huh?"

"Not right now," Stephen explained carefully. "It's not like I'm a homo or anything, if you were wondering."

"I wasn't."

"I don't believe in that cult. Now, I don't think my stepfather was right--that AIDS is God's way of getting rid of homosexual people. Because if that's what God wanted to do he'd be smart and just get rid of them, the faggots, I mean. Not make there be a risk that normal people might get sick too."

"That makes sense," Jodie said from his hazy plateau. "I don't have one either, a girlfriend." He laughed bitterly. "Well, how could I? Right? What've I got? I'm not good-looking like you, I don't have any money . . . I'm just a fucking junkie is all."

Stephen felt his face burn hot and he washed harder.

Scrub that skin, yes, yes, yes . . .

Worms, worms, go away . . .

Looking at his hands Stephen continued. "The fact is I've been in a situation lately where I haven't really . . . where I haven't been as interested in women as most men are. But it's just a temporary condition."

"Temporary," Jodie repeated.

Eyes watching the bar of soap, as if it were a prisoner trying to escape.