I wanted “He may be worried about a lot of things, because he lost control of the situation. Had to have, or it would not have been necessary to shoot Deborah in the back. It might not have been necessary to shoot her at all. It appears he murdered Cheney without using a gun. How does he know what we’re really looking for, Kay? Maybe it’s cartridge case. Maybe it’s something else. He isn’t going be certain about the exact condition of the bodies when they were found. We don’t know what he did to the couple and he doesn’t really know what you may have discovered while doing the autopsies. And he might not go back out there the day after the story runs, but he might try it week or two later if everything seems quiet.”
“I doubt your disinformation tactic will work,” I said.
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. The killer evidence. We’d be foolish not to act on that.”
The opening was too wide for me to resist walking through it. “And have you acted on evidence found in the first four cases, Benton? It’s my understanding that a jack of hearts was recovered inside each of the vehicles.
A detail you apparently have worked very hard to suppress.”
“Who told you this?”
he asked, the expression on his face unchanged. He did not even look surprised.
“Is it true?”
“Yes.”
“And did you find a card in the Harvey-Cheney case?”
Wesley stared off across the room, nodding at the waiter. “I recommend the filet mignon.”
He opened his menu. “That or the lamb chops.”
I placed my order as my heart pounded. I lit a cigarette, unable to relax, my mind frenetically groping for a way to break through.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t see how it is relevant to your role in the investigation,” he said.
“The police waited hours before calling me to the scene. The bodies had been moved, tampered with, by the time I got there. I’m being stonewalled by investigators, you’ve asked me to indefinitely pend the cause and manner of Fred’s and Deborah’s deaths. Meanwhile, Pat Harvey is threatening to get a court order because I won’t release my findings.”
I paused. He remained unflappable.
“Finally,” I concluded, my words beginning to bite, “I make a retrospective visit to a scene without knowing it’s under surveillance or that the evidence I collected was planted. And you don’t think the details of these cases are relevant to my role in the investigation? I’m no longer sure I even have a role in the investigation. Or at least you seem determined to make sure I don’t have one.”
“I’m not doing anything of the sort.”
“Then someone is.”
He did not reply.
“If a jack of hearts was found inside Deborah’s Jeep on somewhere near their bodies, it’s important for me to know. It would link the deaths of all five couples. When there’s a serial killer on the loose in Virginia, it is of great concern to me.”
Then he caught me off guard. “How much have you been telling Abby Turnbull?”
“I haven’t been telling her anything,” I said, my heart pounding harder.
“You’ve met with her, Kay. I’m sure you won’t deny that.”
“Mark told you, and I’m sure you won’t deny that.”
“Mark would have no reason to know you saw Abby in Richmond or Washington unless you told him. And any event, he would have no reason to pass this along.”
I stared at him. How could Wesley have known I had seen Abby in Washington unless she really was being watched? “When Abby came to see me in Richmond,” I said “Mark called and I mentioned she was visiting. Are you telling me he said nothing to you?”
“He didn’t.”
“Then how did you find out?”
“There are some things I can’t tell you. And you’re just going to have to trust me.”
The waiter set down our salads, and we ate in silence. Wesley did not speak again until our main courses arrived.
“I’m under a lot of pressure,” he said in a quiet voice.
“I can see that. You look exhausted, run-down.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” he said ironically.