Page 32 of In His Sights

“Humor us. Tell us how it went down from your perspective.”

He rolled his eyes. “If you insist. I tied them up, using cuffs. Happy now?”

“Not really,” Lewis commented. “You could’ve read that in the papers. You still haven’t told us how you killed them.”

“I strangled them, okay? That’s what the rope was for.”

Gary nodded. “Oh, I see. And what did you do with the nail clippings you took?”

John blinked. “The… nail clippings?”

“We know you cut their nails—all the victims had a nail clipper beside the bed,” Gary lied, “but no clippings could be found. So we figured the killer had taken them. What we couldn’t work out was why.”

“Mementos,” John blurted.

“But what did you do with them?” Lewis demanded. “Stick ’em in a drawer? Encase ’em in plastic and make a coaster out of it? Of course, you might be more imaginative than me, but I gotta be honest here, I’m struggling.”

He glared at Lewis. “What I did with them is my business.”

“Let’s go back to why you killed them.” Lewis peered at his sheet where he’d scribbled a note. “They have to be wiped off the face of the earth, you said. Then why stop at six? Surely there are plenty more guys out there that need wiping off too.”

Riley came into the room and handed Gary a sheet, then withdrew.

Gary glanced at it, suppressing his sigh. He showed it to Lewis.

An Internet search for John Reynolds comes up with nothing. This guy is a nobody.

John’s voice rose. “Hey, I made a start, right? Someone else will follow my example and keep going. You wait and see. Bernhard Goetz had the right idea.”

Aha. Andnowwe have it.Gary arched his eyebrows. “The vigilante? He claimed he’d done a public service by killing four men.”

John nodded, his eyes wide and bright. “See? That’s whatIwas doing. I’ll be a hero for making a stand.”

Gary had heard enough.

“No, you won’t,” he said quietly. “You modeled for Marius Eisler, but that’s all. How many times did you sit for him?”

“Twice.”

Another nod. “Did he offer to paint your portrait, or did you commission him?”

“I asked him.” John aimed a fierce look at Lewis. “And no, Ididn’tgo there for sex. I’m straight. I didn’t even know he was gay until I saw all those paintings.” He grimaced. “I only went to him because I’d seen one of his portraits in a gallery. No one’s ever painted me before.”

Gary studied him. “It’s obvious you know nothing of the circumstances in which these men died. You may be homophobic, but you’re not a vigilante, a hero. You’ve never amounted to anything your whole life, have you? You’re no one, Mr. Reynolds, but I think you badly want to besomeone. How far did you think this would go? Your arrest? A trial? Not even close. But itwillget you a charge of wasting police time. And maybe some help too.”

John’s eyes bulged. “I don’tneedany help, you hear? Now I want you to arrest me for murder. I killed those guys, and I want everyone to know about it.”

Gary shook his head. “Sorry. I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

John regarded them in stunned silence, and as Gary watched, he crumpled, his chest heaving, his chin trembling.

Gary glanced at Lewis. “Book him.” He stood and walked out of the room. Riley was waiting outside. Gary grimaced. “Lord, what a sad little man.”

“Why do people do this?”

“For the attention? I’m not going to waste time speculating on his motives. We’ve got work to do.”

When they walked into the case room, Dan was still sitting in the chair, staring at the photos. He turned to look at them. “I guess I’m not leaving, then?” He sighed. “You know, part of me hoped he was the genuine article. I’m sorry.”

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