Devil’s Waltz. By: Jonathan Kellerman

bET. STURGis: You tutor her, too? Your wife?

MR. JONES: As a matter of fact, I did. But she was hopeless-not very

bright at all.

bET. STURGIS: But you married her anyway. How come? A smart guy like

you.

MR. JONES: I was smitten “this spring of love.” bET. STURGIS: You

met in the spring?

MR. JONES: It’s a quotationbET. STURGIS: Shakespeare?

MR. JONES: As a matter of fact, yes. I fell deeply in love and was

taken advantage of. A romantic nature. My be”‘te noire.

bET. SrvRGIS: What about Karl Sobran? He take advantage of you too?

MR. JONES: With Karl it was different with him, ironically, I wasn’t

naive. I knew what he was, right away, but I felt I could help him

channel his impulses.

bET. STURGIS: What did you know he was?

MR. JONES: Classic antisocial sociopath. But contrary to popular

belief, those types don’t lack consciences. They merely suspend them

at their convenience-read Sarnenow.

As a police officer, you really should. Where was I? Karl. Karl is

very bright. I was hoping to direct his intelligence in a constructive

manner.

bET. SrvRGIs: Like murder for hire?

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t answer that.

MR. JONES: Stop sighing, Tony. That’s ridiculous. Of course not.

bid Karl actually say that?

bET. S’rURGtS: How else would I know about him, Prof?

MR. JONES: Ludicrous. But he is a sociopath-don’t forget that.

Genetic liar. At worst I’m guilty of underestimating him-not realizing

how truly dangerous he was. As much as I didn’t respect Dawn as a

human being, I was horrified to find out she was murdered. If I’d

known, I’d never have written that letter to Karl’s parole board.

Never have.

Oh, my God.

bET. STURGIS: Never have what?

MR. JONES: Talked idly to Karl.

bET. SrvRGIS: About Dawn?

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t answer that.

MR. JONES: You’re sighing again it’s very wearisome, Tony. Yes, about

her, as well as other things. I’m afraid I must have thrown out idle

comments about Dawn that Karl must have misinterpreted horribly.

bET. STURGIS: What kinds of comments?

MR. JONES: Oh, no, I can’t believe he actually- How she was harassing

me. He misunderstood. God, what a horrible misunderstanding!

bET. STURGIS: You’re saying he misunderstood your comments and killed

her on his own?

MR. JONES: Believe me, Detective, the thought makes me sick. But it’s

an inescapable conclusion.

bET. STURGIS: What exactly did you tell Sobran about Dawn?

MR. JONES: That she was someone from my past who was bothering me.

bET. STURGIS: That’s it?

MR. JONES: That’s it.

bET. S’rURGIS: There was no solicitation? To kill or hurt her?

MR. JONES: Absolutely not.

bET. STURGIS: But there was payment, Prof. Two thousand dollars that

Sobran deposited in his account the day after her murder. He had some

of it in his pocket when I arrested him.

He says he got it from you.

MR. JONES: No problem. I’ve been helping Karl for a long time so he

could get on his feet, wouldn’t have to revert.

bET. SrvRGis: Two thousand dollars?

MR. JONES: Sometimes I get a little loose with the purse strings.

It’s an occupational hazard.

bET. STURGIS: Of being a sociology professor?

MR. JONES: Of growing up wealthy it can be a real curse, you know.

That’s why I always tried to live my life as if the money didn’t

exist.

Keeping my life-style unpretentious keeping away from all the things

that have the potential to corrupt.

bET. SrvRGIs: Like real estate deals?

MR. JONES: My investments were for them-Cindy and the kids. I wanted

them to have some kind of financial stability, because teaching school

sure won’t give you that. That was before I realized what she was

doing.

bET. STURGIS: By “doing,” you mean sexual behavior?

MR. JONES: Exactly. With everything that walked in through the

door.

The children weren’t even mine, but I took care of them anyway. I’m a

soft touchit’s something I need to work on.

bET. S’rr’RGIS: Uh-huh. . . Was Chad yours?

MR. JONES: Not a chance.

bET. SrvRGIS: How do you know?

MR. JONES: One look at him. He was the spitting image of a roofer we

had working out on the tract. Spitting imagetotal clone.

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