“If we’re dealing with someone who’s been stewing for a long time, witnessing Becky Basille’s murder and the SWAT scene could have set him off.
Hearing Hewitt screaming about bad love could have done it, too, if he’d had experiences with de Bosch or a de Boschian therapist.”
He rolled the bottle between his palms. “Maybe. But two nuts with a bad love’ fixation just hap[7ening to show up at the same place on the same day is too damned cute for my taste.”
“Mine, too,” I said.
He drank some more.
“What if it wasn’t a coincidence at all, Milo? What if Hewitt and the taper knew each other-even shared a common rage about bad love, de Bosch, therapists in general? If the mental health center’s typical, it’s a crowded place, patients waiting for hours. It wouldn’t be that strange for two disturbed people to get together and discover a mutual resentment, would it? If they were paranoid to begin with, they could have played upon each other’s fears and delusions. Confirming for each other that the way they saw the world was valid. The taper might even be someone who wouldn’t have been violent under different circumstances. But seeing Hewitt murder his therapist and then seeing Hewitt’s face blown off could have pushed him over.”
“So now he’s ready to do his own therapist? So what’s the tape and the call and the fish?”
“Preparing the scene. Or maybe he won’t go any further-I don’t know.
And something else: I might not even be his only target. He might have a current therapist who’s in danger.”
“Any idea who it could be? From your patient list?”
“No, that’s the thin. There’s no one who fits. But my patients 9 were all kids. Lots can happen over time.”
He sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.
“Speaking of kids,” he said. “Where does the kid’s voice fit in with your two-nut scenario?”
“I don’t know, dammit. Maybe the taper’s got a kid. Or he’s abducted one-God, I hope not, but that voice stank of coercion, didn’t it? So flat-did Hewitt have any children?”
“Nope. The report has him as unmarried, unemployed, uneverything.”
“Be good to know who he hung out with at the center. We could also try to verify that my tape was taken from the video footage. Because if it wasn’t, we wouldn’t have to bother crossreferencing the station personnel list.”
He smiled. “And you wouldn’t have to expose your patient list, right?”
“Right. That would be a major betrayal. I still can’t justify it.”
“You’re sure it’s not any of them?”
“No, I’m not sure, but what am I going to do? Call hundreds of people and ask them if they’ve grown up to be hate-crazed nuts?”
“No Mr. Silk in your past, huh?”
“Only silk I know is in my ties.”
“One thing I can tell you, your tape’s not an exact lift off the video.
The footage has Hewitt screaming for just over twentyseven seconds out of the thirty-five, and your segment only lasts sixteen. I had a brief go at it before I came over here-tried running both tapes simultaneously on two machines to see if I could pick out any segments that coincided exactly. I couldn’t-it was tricky, going from machine to machine, on-off, on-off, trying to synchronize. And it’s not like we’re dealing with words, heredoesn’t take long before all the screaming starts to sound the same.”
“What about doing some kind of voiceprint analysis? Trying to get an electronic match.”
“From what I know, you need actual words for a match. And the department doesn’t do voiceprints anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Probably not enough call. What they’re useful for, mostly, is kidnapping ransom calls, and that’s usually the FBI’s game. Also phone scams, bunco stuff, which is low priority with all the buckets of blood. I think one guy at the sheriff’s is still doing them. I’ll find out.”
The dog finally put his head in the bowl and began slurping water.
Milo lifted his bottle, said, “Cheers,” and emptied it.
“Why don’t you and I try a little bit of low-tech teamwork right now?”
I said. “You take audio, I’ll take video-” “And I’ll be in Screamland afore ye.”