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Joe let up and said, “Where’s the key?”
Hubbell said, “Key to what?”
Joe slammed Hubbell’s head against the floor again. He didn’t want to kill him.
But he wanted to hurt him, badly.
CHAPTER 86
JOE SHOUTED DIRECTLY into Hubbell’s grinning face.
“Where is the key? Where is the fucking key?”
“It’s up my ass.”
Joe grabbed the knife off the floor and said, “Have it your way. You’ve got a nice edge on this thing.”
Hubbell said, “No, no. It’s in the ice cube tray.”
Keeping the chain pulled tightly around Hubbell’s neck, Joe could just reach the fridge. He snagged the small ice cube tray with the ends of his fingers. He dumped the tray on the floor, identified the cube with the key inside it, and crushed the ice with his heel.
Joe picked up the small key. “On your stomach,” he said.
Hubbell rolled over, and Joe put his foot on the man’s neck. He maneuvered the key with his shaking hands until he had unlocked his cuffs. When his hands were free, he zipped up his fly.
Then
he pulled Hubbell’s arms around his back and cuffed his wrists with the man’s own cuffs. He wrestled the bed to a standing position, scooped his gun up off the desk, and holstered it.
When he jerked Hubbell to his feet, the man didn’t kick out, squirm, or in any way fight him. He almost seemed accepting. Maybe twenty years of hard time did that to a person.
“You didn’t need to go bug-fuck,” Hubbell said to Joe.
“Yeah. Well, please accept my sincere apologies.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt you,” said Hubbell. “I just wanted to tell you about the things I’ve done and how I did them.”
“Don’t worry. A lot of people are going to want to know all about you, Clem. You’ll get to tell your story many, many times.”
Wrapping the chain around his left hand, keeping his cuffed prisoner tightly in front of him, Joe pulled the weighted ladder down from the ceiling. The hatch door opened smoothly above them.
Joe said, “What do you say, Clem? Let’s get out of here.”
After the two men climbed the ladder and surfaced in the basement, Joe chained Clement Hubbell to the furnace and locked the basement door behind him. He called Lindsay from the kitchen, and then he called the sitter to say he was sorry he was late getting back, and to please hang in with Julie.
When he hung up, Joe washed his hands, turned on the oven to 375, and set the timer for thirty minutes.
Joe and Denise Hubbell were eating warm blueberry muffins when Lindsay, along with a fully armed tactical team, arrived at 355 Edgehill Way, where they proceeded to batter down the red-painted kitchen door.
CHAPTER 87
I HAD SOME explaining to do when Joe, the SWAT team, and I got back to the Hall with a confessed killer in cuffs: a killer no one in Homicide had on their radar or even knew existed.
I filled Brady in while Joe waited at my desk.
Brady gave me a very cold stare as I told him that Joe had merely followed up a hunch, that he had been invited into the Hubbell house by the owner, and that she’d given him carte blanche to go into her son’s room.
“Is this something like the hunch that took you into a house where the homeowner put a loaded Winchester rifle to your head?” Brady asked me.
