Kitabı oxu: «Hangman»
Hangman
Faye Kellerman
For Jonathan—the complete man, from A to Z And for Lila and Oscar—hugs and kisses
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Also by Faye Kellerman
Copyright
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
THE PICTURES HAD photographed her swollen, battered, and bruised—a puffy lip, two black eyes, a bloated and bright face. Decker found it nearly impossible to reconcile those snapshots with the remarkable-looking woman who sat before him. Terry had changed in the fifteen years. She had morphed from a beautiful sixteen-year-old girl to an elegant, stunning woman. Age had turned her face softer and rounder with the fragile exquisiteness of a Victorian cameo. His eyes traveled from the picture to her face. He raised an eyebrow.
“Pretty bad, huh?” she said.
“Your husband certainly did a number on you.” If Decker squinted hard enough at her face, he could see remnants of the thrashing—a greenish tinge in certain spots. “And these pictures are around six weeks old?”
“Around.” She shifted her position on the sofa. “The body is a wondrous thing. I used to see miracles all the time.”
Being a doctor, Terry would know that information firsthand. How she managed to go through medical school and raise a kid while married to that maniac was a testament to her strength of character. It was hard to see her beaten down like this.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this? Meeting him here in L.A.?”
“I put it off about as long as I could,” Terry said. “It really doesn’t make sense to hide. If Chris wants to find me, he will. And it’s not me that I’m worried about. It’s Gabe. If he gets pissed off enough, he may take it out on him. I need to get him to adulthood, Lieutenant, before I make any decisions about myself.”
“How old is Gabe?”
“Chronologically, he’s about four months from fifteen. Psychologically, he’s an old man.”
Decker nodded. They were sitting in an elegantly furnished hotel suite in Bel Air, California. The color scheme was a soothing tone-on-tone beige. There was a stocked wet bar off the entry and a marble countertop for mixing drinks. Terry had curled up on the divan opposite a stone fireplace. He was sitting on her left in a wing chair with a view of the private patio lushly planted with ferns, palms, and flowers—an oasis for the wounded soul. “What makes you think that you’ll last until Gabe turns eighteen?”
Terry gave the question some thought. “You know how cool and calculating my husband is. This was the first time that he ever laid a hand on me.”
“So what happened?”
“A misunderstanding.” She looked at the ceiling, avoiding Decker’s eyes. “He found some medical papers and thought I had an abortion. After I finally got him to stop hitting me and listen, he realized that he had misread the name. The abortion had been for my half sister.”
“He confused the name Melissa with Teresa.”
“We have the same middle name. I’m Teresa Anne. She’s Melissa Anne. It’s stupid but my father is stupid. I still use McLaughlin, like my half sister, because it’s on all my diplomas and licenses. He misread the names and he snapped. Not that he cares about children, but the thought of my destroying his progeny made him unglued. I’m just thankful there wasn’t a gun within reach.” She shrugged.
Decker said, “Why did you marry him, Terry?”
“He wanted it official. I could hardly tell him no since he was supporting us. I could have never finished medical school without his money.” She paused. “Mostly he leaves Gabe and me alone. He buries himself in work or booze or drugs or other women. Gabe and I are adept at maneuvering around him. Our interactions are neutral and sometimes pleasant. He’s generous and knows how to be charming when he wants something. I give him what he wants and all is well.”
“Except when it isn’t.” Decker held up the photographs. “What exactly do you want me to do, Doctor?”
“I’ve agreed to see him, Lieutenant, not to go back to him. At least, not right away. I don’t know how he’ll take the news. Since I can’t escape him, I want him to agree to a temporary separation. Not a marriage separation—that wouldn’t settle well—just for him to agree to give me a little more time to be by myself.”
“How much more time?”
“Thirty years, maybe.” Terry smiled. “Actually, I’d like to move back to L.A. until Gabe finishes high school. I found a house to rent in Beverly Hills. I not only have to get Chris to agree to the separation, but I want him to pay for everything.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Watch me.” She smiled. “He’s trained me, but I’ve also trained him.”
“And yet you feel the need for protection.”
“You deal with a feral animal, anything can happen. It’s good to take precautions.”
“There are a lot of younger, stronger men than me, guys that would probably do a better job at guarding you.”
“Oh please! Chris could take any of them down. He’s more…careful around you. He respects you.”
“He shot me.”
“If he wanted to kill you, he would have.”
“I know that,” Decker said. “He wanted to prove who was boss.” He blew out air. “More important, Chris likes shooting people. In plugging me, he got a two-for-one.”
Terry looked down. “He’s boasted that you’ve asked him for favors. Is that true?”
Decker grinned. “I ask him for information now and then. I’ll use any sources I can to help me get a solve.” He regarded her face—her milky complexion, hazel-gold eyes, and long chestnut-colored hair. There were a few strands of gray peeking through, the only sign that her life had been a pressure cooker. She was wearing a loose, sleeveless maxidress—something silky with geometric patterns in orange, green, and yellow. Her bare feet stuck out of the hemline. “When’s he due in town?”
“I told him to come by the hotel on Sunday at noon. I figured that would be a good time for you.”
“Where will your son be when all this goes down?”
“He’s at UCLA in one of the practice rooms. Gabe has a cell. If he needs me, he’ll call. He’s very independent. He’s had to be.” Her eyes were faraway. “He’s so good…the polar opposite of his father. Given his upbringing, he should have been in rehab at least a couple of times by now. Instead he’s hypermature. It worries me. There’s so much inside of him that’s been left unsaid. He really does deserve better.” She brought her hands to her mouth and blinked back tears. “Thanks so much for helping me out.”
“Make sure I do something before you thank me.” Decker checked his watch. He was due home a half hour ago. “Okay, Terry, I’ll come on Sunday. But you’ve got to do it my way. I’ve got to think of a plan, how I want this meeting to take place. First and foremost, you have to wait in the bedroom until I’ve cleared him. Then you can come out.”
“That’s fine.”
“Also, you have to tell Gabe not to come home until you’ve given him an all-clear signal okay. I don’t want him popping in the middle of a sticky situation.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
The room was silent for a few moments. Then Terry stood up. “Thanks so much, Lieutenant. I hope the payment is okay?”
“It’s more than okay. It’s very generous.”
“One thing about Chris—he’s very expansive. If I offered you anything less, he’d be insulted.”
DECKER SAID, “LOOK, if you don’t want me to do it, I won’t.”
“Of course I don’t want you to do it,” Rina answered. “He shot you, for God’s sake!”
“So I’ll call her up and say no.”
“A little late for that, don’t you think.” Rina got up from the dining-room table and began to clear the brunch dishes—two plates and two glasses. Hannah rarely ate with them anymore. She’d be starting seminary in Israel in the fall. With three months left of high school, she was as good as gone.
Decker followed his wife into the kitchen. “Tell me what you want?” When Rina turned on the faucet, he said, “I’ll wash.”
“No, I’ll wash.”
“Better yet, why don’t you use the dishwasher?”
“For two plates?”
Counting all the glasses, utensils, and pots and pans, it was a lot more than that, but he didn’t argue. “I should have consulted you before I agreed. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not looking for apologies. I’m concerned for your safety. He’s a hit man, Peter.”
“He’s not going to kill me.”
“Don’t you always tell me that domestic are the most dangerous situations because emotions get hot?”
“They do if you’re not prepared.”
“You don’t think your presence will inflame the state of affairs?”
“It could. But if she doesn’t have anyone around, it could be worse.”
“So let her hire some other body. Why does it have to be you?”
“She thinks I have the best chance of defusing Chris’s temper.”
“ ‘Defusing’ is the right word,” Rina said. “The man’s a bomb!” She shook her head and turned on the tap. Silently, she handed Decker the first dish.
“Thanks for brunch. The salmon Benedict was a real treat.”
“Every man deserves a last meal.”
“That’s not funny.”
Rina gave him another dish. “If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Understood.”
“I don’t care what happens to her. I’m sure she’s a nice woman, but she got herself into this mess.” Rina felt anger rising. “Why do you have to get her out of it? Her asking you for help is chutzpadik.”
“It’s like she’s imprinted on me.” Decker put the dish away and put his hands on her shoulders. The tips of her black hair brushed against her shoulders, giving her face a breezy look. Rina was anything but. Intense, focused, task-oriented…those were the appropriate adjectives. “I’ll call her and tell her no.”
“You can’t do that now, Peter. He’s due to show up in a couple of hours. Plus if you backed out, you’d look like a wuss to Chris and that’s the worst thing you can do. You’re stuck.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his nose. He was tall and big, but so was Donatti. “I think I should go with you.”
“Not a chance. I’d rather back out.”
“He likes me.”
“Precisely why he’d be tempted to shoot me. He has a crush on you.”
“He doesn’t have a crush on me—”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Well, then at least let me ride over with you into the city. You can drop me off to visit my parents.”
“I can do that.” Decker looked at the kitchen clock. “Leave the mess. I’ll get it when I come back.”
“You’re leaving now?”
“I want to set up the room before he arrives.”
“Fine. I’ll go get my purse. Call me when you’re done and everything’s okay.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rina brushed him off. “Isn’t marriage about promising to love, honor, and obey?”
“Something like that,” Decker told her. “And if I must brag, I’d say I’ve been pretty good with my vows.”
“Pretty good at the first two,” Rina admitted. “It’s the third that seems to trip you up.”
CHAPTER TWO
STRAIGHT OUT OF a Diego Rivera painting, he showed up with an enormous bouquet of calla lilies that took up most of his upper body. Size for size, Decker matched every inch of Christopher Donatti’s six-foot four-inch frame.
“You shouldn’t have.” Before Chris could register surprise, Decker took the flowers, tossed them on the marble counter near the door, and then turned him around, pushing him until he was flat against the wall. Decker’s movements were hard and rapid. He pressed the nose of his Beretta into the base of the man’s skull. “Sorry, Chris, but she just doesn’t completely trust you right now.”
Donatti said nothing as Decker patted him down. The man was packing good-quality pieces: the tools of his trade. He had an S&W automatic in his belt and a small .22-caliber Glock pistol in a hidden compartment in his boot. With his own standard-issue Beretta still at Donatti’s neck, Decker picked his pocket, tossing his wallet on the counter. He told him to take off his shoes, his belt, and his watch.
“My watch?”
“You know how it is, Chris. Everything these days is micro-mini. Who knows what you’re hiding inside?”
“It’s a Breguet.”
“I don’t know what that is, but it sounds expensive.” Decker relieved him of the gold timepiece. It was incredibly heavy. “I’m not stealing it. I’m just checking it out.”
“It’s a skeleton watch. Open up the back and you can see the movement.”
“Hmm…it’s not going to explode on me, is it?”
“It’s a watch, not a weapon.”
“In your hands, everything’s a weapon.”
Donatti didn’t deny that. Decker told him to keep his hands up and his body against the wall. He slowly backed up a few inches to give himself some room. With an eye on his hands at all times, Decker began to remove the ammo from Donatti’s guns.
“You can turn around but keep your hands up.”
“You’re the boss.”
He rotated his body until they were face-to-face. Stripped of his weapons, Chris seemed impassive. There was flatness in his eyes; blue without any luminosity. It was impossible to tell if he was angry or amused.
One thing was certain. Chris had seen better days. His skin was patchy and wan and his forehead was a pebble garden of pimples. He’d grown out his hair from the crew cut he had sported a half-dozen years ago; the last time Decker had seen him in the flesh. It was brushed straight back, Count Dracula style, and trimmed to the bottom of his ears. He was still built lanky but with bigger arms than Decker had remembered. He had dressed up for the reunion, wearing a blue polo shirt, charcoal gabardine pants, and Croc boots.
“I’m starting to get a little pain in my arms.”
“Lower them slowly.”
He did. “Now what?”
“Take a seat. Move slowly. When you move slowly, I move slowly. If you rush me, I shoot first and ask questions later.” When Donatti started to sit on the chair, Decker stopped him. “On the sofa, please.”
Donatti cooperated and plopped down on the cushions. Decker tossed him his watch. He caught it one-handed and placed it back on his wrist. “Is she even here?”
“She’s in the bedroom.”
“That’s a start. Is she coming out?”
“When I give her the okay, she’ll come out.”
“Where’s Gabe?”
“He’s not here,” Decker said.
“That’s probably better.” Donatti dropped his head in his hands. He resurfaced a moment later. “I suppose your being here makes sense.”
“Thanks for your approval.”
“Look. I’m not going to do anything.”
“Why the armory, then?”
“I always pack. Can I talk to my wife now?”
Decker stood at the marble countertop of the hotel bar, the Beretta still in his hands. “A couple of ground rules. Number one: you stay seated the entire time. Don’t approach her in any way, shape, or form. And no sudden movements. It makes me jumpy.”
“Agreed.”
“Mind your mouth and your manners and I’m sure everything will go swimmingly.”
“Yeah…sure.” His voice was a whisper.
“You look a little pale. You want some water?” He opened the bar. “Something stronger?”
“Whatever.”
“Macallan, Chivas, Glenfiddich—”
“Glenfiddich neat.” A moment later, Decker handed him a crystal cut glass with a healthy dose of Scotch. Donatti took a delicate sip and then drank a finger’s worth. “Thanks. This helps.”
“You’re welcome.” Decker regarded the man. “Your color’s coming back.”
“I haven’t had a drink all day.”
“It’s only twelve in the afternoon.”
“It’s almost happy hour New York time. I didn’t want her to think I’m weak. But I am.” Another sip. “She knows I’m weak. What the fuck!”
“Watch your mouth.”
“If my mouth was my only problem, I’d be in good shape.” He handed Decker his empty glass.
“Another?” When Donatti shook his head, Decker closed the cabinet. “What happened?”
“What happened is I’m an idiot.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“I’ve always had reading comprehension problems.”
“You’re missing a crucial element here, Chris. You don’t use your wife as a punching bag even if she did have an abortion.”
“I didn’t punch her, I hit her.”
“That’s not acceptable either.”
Donatti rubbed his forehead. “I know that. I’m just correcting you because I knew I was using an open hand. If I would have punched her, she’d be dead.”
“So you were aware that you were beating the shit out of her?”
“It’s never happened before, it won’t happen again.”
“And she should believe you because…”
“I can count the number of times I’ve lost my temper on one hand. Look, I know she’s scared, but she doesn’t have to be. It was just…” As he started to get up from the couch, Decker waved the gun in his face. He sat back down. “Can I see my wife, please?”
“At least, this time you said please.” Decker stared at him. “Let me ask you a couple of theoretical questions. What if she doesn’t want to talk to you?”
“She wouldn’t have agreed to meet with me if she didn’t want to talk to me.”
“Maybe she just didn’t want to tell you over the phone. That would give you time to plan something dangerous and probably stupid.”
“Is that what she said?” Donatti looked up.
“How about if I ask the questions?”
“I’m not planning anything. I was an idiot. It won’t happen again. Just let me see my wife, okay.”
“What if she doesn’t want to see you anymore? What if she asks for a divorce?”
“Don’t know.” Donatti kneaded his hands together. “I haven’t thought about it.”
“It would piss you off, right?”
“Probably.”
“What would you do?”
“Nothing with you around.” His eyes finally sparked life. “Decker, she’s not going to ask me for a divorce—at least not now—because, first and foremost, I’ve got enough money to engage her in a very expensive and protracted legal battle for Gabe. It would be easier for her just to wait me out until he’s eighteen, and Terry is nothing if not practical. I’ve got another three and a half years before I have to confront this issue. I’d like to see Terry now.”
He was panting. Decker said, “Another Scotch?”
“No.” Donatti shook his head. “I’m fine.” He took in a deep breath and let it out. “I’m ready when you are.”
Decker gave him a hard look. “I’ll be watching your every move.”
“Fine. I won’t move. My butt is glued to the chair. Can we get on with it?”
There was no sense putting off the inevitable. Decker called out her name. He had placed Terry’s chair to the side so he had a clear path from the barrel of his gun to Donatti’s brain. Not that he really expected a shoot-’em-up, but Decker was a Boy Scout and a cop and always tried to be prepared. Terry had curled her legs under her long dress, but her posture was erect and regal. Again, she was sleeveless, her long tanned arms adorned with several bangles. Her eyes were on Donatti’s face even though he was the one who had trouble meeting her gaze.
“You look good,” he told her.
“Thank you.”
“How do you feel?”
“Okay.”
“How’s Gabe?”
“He’s fine.”
Donatti exhaled and looked up at the ceiling. Then he focused on her face. “What can I do for you?”
“Interesting question,” she told him. “I’m still trying to figure that out.”
He scratched his cheek. “I’ll do anything.”
“Can I quote you on that?” Before he could answer, she said, “I’m not ready to come back with you.”
Donatti folded his hands in his lap. “Okay. Are you ever going to be ready?”
“Possibly…probably. Just not now.”
“Okay.” Chris glanced at Decker. “Could we get a little privacy, please?”
“Not gonna happen.” Decker held up the flowers. “He brought you these.”
Terry glanced at the lilies. “I’ll call for a vase later.” To Chris, she said, “They’re lovely. Thank you.”
Donatti fidgeted. “So…when do you think…I mean how much longer do you want to stay here?”
“In California or here in the hotel?”
“I was thinking away from me, but yeah, how much longer are you going to be here, too.”
“I don’t know.”
“A month? Two months?”
“Longer than that.” She licked her lips.
“That’s getting a little on the expensive side. I mean, not that I’m begrudging you the money…”
“It is expensive,” Terry said. “I want to rent a house. Technically you’d be renting it. I saw one that I’d like. I’m just waiting for you to write the check.”
Decker was amazed at how confidently she spoke, daring him to deny her anything.
“Where?” Donatti asked.
“Beverly Hills. Where else?”
As she started to stand, Decker said, “What can I get for you?”
“I’m a little thirsty.”
“You sit back down. What would you like?”
“Pellegrino, no ice.”
“Not a problem. What about you, Chris?”
“Same.”
“Give him a Scotch,” Terry said.
“I’m fine, Terry.”
“Did I say you weren’t?” she snapped back. “Give him a Scotch.”
Donatti threw up his hands. Decker said, “No problem just as long as both of you stay put.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Donatti said testily. As soon as the Scotch reached his lips, he seemed to calm down. “So…tell me about this house that I’m renting.”
“It’s in an area called the Flats, which is prime real estate here. It’s twelve thousand a month—about as minimal as it gets for that neighborhood. It needs a little work, but it’s certainly live-in ready. The main reason I chose Beverly Hills was for the school district, which is a good one.”
“No problem,” Donatti said. “Whatever you want.”
Judging by this conversation, it would seem that Terry was in control of the relationship. Maybe she was most of the time. Obviously most didn’t equate to all.
Donatti said, “Do I get a key?”
“Of course you get a key. You’re renting it.”
“And how long do you intend to live out here…in the house that I’m renting?”
“Usually leases are for a year.”
“That’s a long time.”
Terry leaned forward. “Chris, I’m not asking for a legal separation just a physical one. After what happened, that’s the least you can do.”
“I’m not arguing with you, Terry, I’m just trying to get an idea of how long. If you want a year, take a year. It’s about you, not me.”
She was silent. Then she said, “You’ll know where I am, you’ll have a key to the house. Come whenever you want. I’m not going anywhere. Fair enough?”
“More than fair.” Donatti forced his lips upward. “It’s not bad for me to have a hitching post on the West Coast anyway. It’s probably a good idea.”
“So I did you a favor.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Twelve thousand a month. How big is this sucker?”
Terry gave him a smile—a cross between humor and flirtatiousness. “It has four bedrooms, Chris. I think we can work something out.”
Donatti’s smile turned genuine. “Okay.” He took a sip of his booze, then laughed. “Okay. If that’s what you want…fine. Maybe you’ll actually miss me when I’m gone.”
“You can dream.”
“Very funny.”
“Are you hungry?” Terry’s eyes ran up and down his body. “You lost weight.”
“I’ve been a little anxious.”
“How would you know what anxiety feels like?”
Donatti looked at Decker, his eyes unreadable. “The girl’s a wit.”
“Are you hungry, Chris?” Terry asked him.
“I could eat.”
“They have a world-class restaurant.” She glanced at a diamond wristwatch sitting among her gold bracelets. “It’s open. I wouldn’t mind something.”
“Great.” He started to stand, but then looked at Decker. “Can I get up without you shooting me?”
“Go down to the restaurant and get something for the two of you, Chris. Get a table next door for me. We’ll catch up with you in a minute.”
Donatti’s expression turned sour. “We’ll be in a public place, Decker. Nothing’s going to happen. How about a little privacy?”
“I’ll be sitting at another table,” Decker said. “Whisper if you don’t want me to hear. Go ahead. We’ll meet you there.”
Donatti rolled his eyes. “Do I get my steel back?”
“Eventually,” Decker said.
“You can keep the ammo, just give me the pieces.”
“Eventually.”
“What do you think I’m going to do? Coldcock you?”
“I wasn’t even thinking along those lines, but now that you mention it, you are unpredictable.”
He turned to Terry. “Do you care if I pack?”
“It’s up to him,” Terry said.
“They’re worthless without ammo.” When Decker didn’t reply, Chris said, “C’mon. It would show good faith. All I’m asking for is what’s mine.”
“I hear you, Chris.” Decker opened the door. “But you can’t always get what you want.”
The two men faced off. Then Donatti shrugged. “Whatever.” He swaggered through the door without looking back.
Decker shook his head. “That’s one icy dude.” He regarded Terry. “You handled him very well.”
“I hope so. At the very least, it’ll buy me some time to think.”
Decker noticed she was shaking. “Are you all right, Terry?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little…” Perspiration dripped from her forehead. She wiped her face with a tissue. “You know what they say, Lieutenant.” Nervous laughter. “Never let them see you sweat.”
