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“You only went after your own patients,” Nate said. “Why is that? Why not just look into the records and take out anyone who survived something like this? Why not go to a survivor’s help group and plant a bomb? Why do it this way?”
“Because I was the one who made these mistakes, and I have to fix them,” Paul said. His voice was raw with emotion, with utter conviction. It was clear to Laura that everything he was saying was as real to him as undisputable fact. “That was what I wanted to do. Fix every mistake I made, and then fix myself last. I was going to find them all. Start here and then go on the run, maybe. Track down the ones who left or moved. I didn’t want to be cruel. I gave them time to think about it. To realize what was happening and deal with it. And then I set the platforms to break their necks. It… it was supposed to be fast. I know I messed up a couple of times, but – don’t you see? It’s because I’m wrong. I’m not meant to be here. Everything I do – it’s always going to be wrong!”
Laura watched him, the war between compassion and hard-faced justice still ongoing inside her head. He was so damaged, so traumatized. Ever since he was a little boy, he had carried this awful guilt. Then he’d started saving people, doing something good with his life. And yet that trauma had twisted it, made it into something that caused him even more guilt. It wasn’t totally his fault. He’d obviously needed mental health care, interventions that had never happened. He had grown up with a weight that had mutated and twisted everything around him.
But ultimately, he was still the one who had taken that decision to end someone else’s life, even knowing what it was like to lose someone you loved. And no amount of trauma could ever condone that.
“How did you set up the platforms?” Laura asked. “They’re fairly sophisticated, but I didn’t see any hint of building work, or anything related in your work history.”
“I learned it,” he said, with just the tiniest inflection of pride. “I didn’t have a clue how to do it, so I spent a lot of time online working it out. I had to make a lot of test runs before I knew they worked. I even set one up at home for a bit, not far off the ground, to see if it would work with my weight.”
“What about the supplies?” Nate asked. “We’ve had a chance to look over your bank records briefly, but I didn’t see any mention of a building supply company.”
“I used false names,” he said. “Paid in cash at the sites. I went to different places each time, gave them different fake IDs if they asked for them. I just picked up a bit here and there. Nothing to raise anyone’s suspicion.”
He’d been so careful, Laura thought. And he’d been caught anyway. She was proud of that herself, proud that they’d managed to put all of the pieces together and bring him in. It was good work.
But there was something nagging at her. He’d been so careful, and now he was just spilling everything like it was nothing to him. He was emotional, yes, but he wasn’t even trying to hide any of it. It was pouring out of him so easily, without them having to force it.
Laura said nothing for a moment. She picked up a piece of paper and wrote something quickly on it: stay quiet. Passing it across to Nate without setting it at an angle where Paul would be able to read it, she then glanced at her watch and pretended to be studying the files she had set in front of herself before flipping the folder closed.
It was all for show. A test. She wanted to know if her theory was correct.
Nate did as he was told, even following her lead. He closed the file he had in front of him as well, placing the medical record back inside it. Then he glanced at her, not moving or saying anything else, like he was waiting for her to be finished.
And it worked.
“I had to be careful with buying the clocks, too,” Paul said, unprompted. “I knew they were on sale here, but after I bought the first one in person, I found out they sold them online as well. Then I just had to use the fake IDs, put in different names and delivery addresses. I even had one delivered to the hospital.”
“You’re stalling us,” Laura said, immediately.
Paul stared at her, his eyes blinking and his mouth moving in a kind of unspoken stutter before he found his voice again. “What?”
“You’re stalling us.” It was a clear statement, not a question. She already knew that she was right. “You have another victim on a platform somewhere right now, don’t you?”
Paul continued to only stare at her, as if he was somehow shocked by what she was saying. Laura wasn’t buying a single second of it. He was only trying to keep the delay going. Keep them in the room, so they weren’t out there, investigating. Stopping his final victim from falling to their death.
“Where?” Laura snapped, leaning across the table towards him, her words harsh as a slap. “Where are they?”
Slowly, so slowly at first, she thought she might be imagining it, Paul’s expression changed.
He wasn’t crying any longer.
He was smiling.
“I’m not going to tell you,” he said. “It doesn’t matter what you to do me or what you threaten me with. Or what kind of deal you tell me I can get with a judge. I won’t tell you where they are now.”
“How much time do they have left?” Laura asked, even though she knew there was little hope he was going to answer it straight.
“I won’t tell you,” Paul said again, still smiling that odd smile, that little look of victory that he was still going to get one more of his ‘mistakes’ crossed off his list.
Laura slammed her hand on the table and stood, making a dash for the door of the interview room.
He wasn’t going to tell them a thing – and if she didn’t figure this out fast, one more person was going to die in spite of all their success.
She shouted out as she ran down the hall, calling for any detective available to follow her before it was too late.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
