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I stepped in front of the solid pressure-sealed door. Stra
pped to a metal chair, his feet bound in irons, his hands cuffed from behind, hunched a hulking, muscular shape. His hair was long and oily and straggly, and he wore a thin, unkempt goatee. He was dressed in an orange short-sleeved jumpsuit, open at the chest, revealing ornate tattoos covering his pumped-up arms and chest.
The warden said, “There’ll be a guard in there with you and you’ll be monitored at all times. Stay away from him. Don’t get closer than five feet. If he as much as juts his chin in your direction, he’ll be immobilized.”
“The guy’s bound and chained,” I said.
“This sonofabitch eats chains,” Estes said. “Believe it.”
“Anything I can promise him?”
“Yeah.” Estes smirked. “A Happy Meal. You ready…?” I winked at Jacobi, who widened his eyes in caution. My heart nearly stopped, like a skeet target exploded out of the sky.
“Bon voyage,” Estes muttered. Then he signaled the control booth. I heard a ka-shoosh as the heavy compression door unlocked.
Chapter 60
I STEPPED INTO THE stark white cell. It was completely empty except for a metal table and four chairs, all bolted to the floor, and two security cameras high up on the walls. In a corner stood a silent, tight-lipped guard holding a stun gun.
Weiscz barely acknowledged me. His legs were fastened and his hands tightly cuffed behind the chair. His eyes had a steely, inhuman quality to them.
“I’m Lieutenant Lindsay Boxer,” I said, stopping about five feet from him.
Weiscz said nothing, only tilted his eyes toward me. Narrow, almost phosphorescent slits.
“I need to talk to you about some murders that have taken place. I can’t promise you much. I’m hoping you’ll hear me out. Maybe help.”
“Blow me,” he spat with a hoarse voice.
The guard took a step toward him, and Weiscz stiffened as if he’d taken a jolt from the taser. I put up my hand to hold him back.
“You may know something about them,” I continued, a chill shooting down my spine. “I just want to know if they make sense to you. These killings…”
Weiscz looked at me curiously, probably trying to size up if there was something he could get from this. “Who’s dead?”
“Four people. Two cops. One was my chief of police. A widow and an eleven-year-old girl. All black.”
An amused smile settled over Weiscz’s face. “In case you haven’t noticed, lady, my alibi’s airtight.”
“I’m hoping you may know something about them, then.”
“Why me?”
From my jacket pocket, I took out the same two chimera photos I had shown Estes and held them in front of his face. “The killer’s been leaving these behind. I believe you know what it means.”
Weiscz grinned broadly. “I don’t know what you came in here for, but you don’t fucking know how that warms my heart.”
“The killer’s a Chimera, Weiscz. You cooperate, you could gain back some privileges. They can always move you out of this hole.”
“Both of us know I’ll never get out of this hole.”
“There’s always something, Weiscz. Everybody wants something.”
“There is something,” he finally said. “Come closer.”
My body stiffened. “I can’t. You know that.”
“You got a mirror, don’t you?”
