“I know that,” I said.
“You’ll be the one to give him the final push.”
“How?”
“He likes you. He’s queer for you. His voice goes queer whenever you’re close to him. You’re his savior, but you’re about to become his Judas. When I loosen my tie, I want you to hit him.” I looked into Dudley’s mad brown eyes and hesitated. “It’s the only way, lad.”
“I … I can’t.”
“You can and you will, Officer,” Dudley hissed in my face. “I’ve had enough pretty-boy prima donnaism from you! You want a piece of this collar and you’ll crack that fucking pervert in the face, hard! Do you understand, Underhill?”
I went cold all over. “Yes,” I said.
We reassembled in the little room that now looked as battered as Eddie Engels himself. Dudley gestured to Mike Breuning’s steno pad: “Every word, Mike.”
“Right, skipper.”
I brought Engels a glass of water. Knowing what I had to do, I didn’t compound it by being nice to him. I just handed him the water, and when he gave me a smile, I gave him a deadpan in return.
“All right, Engels,” Dudley said. “You admit to knowing Margaret Cadwallader?”
“Yes.”
“And being intimate with her?”
“Yes.”
“And hitting her?”
“No, I couldn’t. She … look, I could turn snitch for you.” Eddie tried desperately. “I know lots of people I could turn over. Dope addicts, pushers. I know some stuff from my navy time.”
Dudley slapped him. “Hush, handsome Eddie. It’s almost over now. We’re going to fly your lovely sister, Lillian, down here. She wants to talk to you about lonely Margaret. She wants you to confess and spare your family the anguish of an indictment on five counts of murder.”
“No, please,” Engels whimpered.
“Lieutenant, I won’t have it,” I said angrily. “We’ve got no evidence. All we’ve got is the Cadwallader croaking. We can indict on that.”
“Oh shit, Inspector. We can get indictments on at least five counts. We can go the whole hog! Let’s get Lillian Engels down here, she’ll drum some sense into little Eddie’s head, like she’s always done!”
“Please, no,” Engels whimpered.
“Eddie,” I said, “do your parents know you’re homosexual?”
“No.”
“Do they know that Lillian is a lesbian?”
“No. Please!”
“You don’t want them to find out, do you?”
“No!” He screeched the word, his voice breaking. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth.
“We can spare them, Eddie,” I said. “You can confess to Margaret, and we won’t file with the grand jury on the others. Listen to me, I’m your friend.”
“No … I don’t know!”
“Sssshhh. Listen to me. I think there were mitigating circumstances. Did Margaret taunt you?”
“No … yes!”
“Did she remind you of Lillian? Of all the bad things in the past?”
“Yes!”
“Evil things? Dreadful, awful things that you hate to think about?”
“Yes!”
“Do you want it to be over?”
“Oh, God, yes,” he blubbered.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes. You’re nice. You’re a sweet person.”
“Then tell me about Margaret.”
“Oh, God. Oh, please, God.”
I put my hands on Engels’s knee. “I care, Eddie. I really do. Tell me.”
“I can’t!”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dudley loosen his necktie. I steeled myself, then got up and faced Engels. He looked up at me, beseeching me with wide brown eyes. I curled my hand into a fist and swung it full force at the side of his nose. It cracked, and blood and cartilage fragments burst into the air. Engels grabbed at his bloody face and fell back on the mattress.
“Confess, you goddamned murderer!” Dudley screamed.
I stood there, shaking. Engels rolled to his side on the mattress and blew out a noseful of blood. When he spoke his voice was resigned and sorrowful. “I killed Maggie. No one else. It was all mine. No one else’s. I killed her and now I have to pay. She didn’t deserve it, but she had to pay, too. We all have to pay.” Then he passed out.
Breuning was scribbling furiously, Dudley was grinning like a sated lover, and I stood there trying to drum up some exhilaration for my compromised victory.