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Maybe he didn't like me seeing him queasy, maybe he just regretted telling me as much as he did, but Weems's face hardened. "Get lost, Steuben. I find you nosing around, you'll be sorry. "
"Merry Christmas to you, too, Weems. " I left.
"They found a body," I said, after I let myself into Claudia's condo.
Claudia was excited. "Yeah, I know, I just heard it on the news. "
It was her day off and while Claud was waiting to hear something solid back from the family - who were going crazy over the news - she was trying to work out a profile for Smith. Maybe she was doing rote work for the same reason I was: to keep from thinking about our world being turned inside out. I still felt like I had the pins knocked out from under me and I hated that uncertainty.
"Down the Willows?" I said, surprised. That was quick.
"No, pulled from the harbor. " She frowned. "The woman had been in there about a week. They said 'mutilated,' which usually means something worse. "
"So was mine. " I told her what I'd just learned from Weems. "They know who she was?"
"A local prostitute, was all they said. "
"There's a chance it's not the same guy, not our guy - " I said.
"I'm not willing to bet on that. "
"Me, neither. "
"He's selecting people on the periphery of society," she said. "Going for those who live under the radar. "
I considered where the trail had led me: the abandoned drug den, the dry spell in the emergency room, and - oh, Hell. Three missing cats in one neighborhood was just too much coincidence. I told Claudia. "I guess he's been doing this for a while. "
She nodded. "And is escalating. He's refining his ritual, getting bolder, going for less vulnerable, more public targets. It's typical that he started with animals. " The look on her face didn't bode well for Smith when we caught him. "Gerry, it's only going to get worse from here. I'm guessing that he's attributing some special significance to the date - the full moon, Christmas . . . "
Suddenly, I knew. "It is Christmas," I said. I told her Weems's description of the corpse, what he'd said about Advent calendars. "Doesn't that sound like what you're talking about? Little, uh, treats leading up to the big day?"
She nodded. "Right. Christmas. Good eyes on Weems. "
I snorted. "He's my hero. " But Christmas was just two days away. "My question is, Why did Smith have to call a cab?"
"He didn't have a car," she answered promptly. "Weems brought him in, right?"
I made a face at her. "But if Smith is responsible for the murders, he must have a car. "
"He can't afford to let it go out in public. Too many people could see . . . what?"
"Bloodstains? Cracked window?"
"Too recognizable," she said. "A truck with a business logo on it, contractors, deliveries - "
"Right, it's got to blend in, but not the sort of thing you'd drive for private stuff. " I thought a minute, then an idea hit me. "Like a police car. Maybe it isn't Smith! Maybe it's Weems!"
"Gerry. Get real. Weems is your bete noir, and he's a dickhead, but he's not our guy. "
"He was at the hospital. " I ticked off my reasons on my fingers, loving that Smith might just be a garden-variety psycho, his trail confused by Weems. "He was at the donut shop. He's been dogging my tracks all day, and every time I saw him, I felt the call to Change. "
"All places you'd expect to see a cop investigating the same case as we are. Have you ever wanted to Change because of Weems before now?" She put her hand on mine; it was warm as toast. "I know you don't like him, but you're getting distracted by this. You've always been so damned sure about everything - "
That was the problem: I couldn't be sure about anything anymore if Smith was Fangborn.
I pulled away. "I don't think so. I think you were picking up on his vibes, the same time you were dealing with some ordinary, run-of-the-mill loony, and that's why you thought it was Smith. "
"You're wrong," she said. "Weems has nothing to do with this. I think you want it to be Weems so you don't have to consider that there might be an evil out there we haven't seen before. I get it, Ger: you want things to be cut-and-dried. But now we know . . . it can't be like that. "
