Page 71 of 56 Days
Karl shakes his head, disbelieving.
“So what do we do with this information?”
“We be very,verycareful with it,” Lee says. “The more people we tell, the more chance there is of it getting out. And we’re not just trying to keep it on the QT that it might be him in there, we have to protectthe name itself. I don’t want to be responsible for putting that name in the public domain.” She chews her lip as she thinks. “Let’s just sit on it for now. I’ll tell the Super when I have a chance to do it in person.”
“Which one was he? A or B?”
“Thename on the envelope,” Lee says pointedly, “is B’s.”
“Where’s A these days? Could he have—”
“He took his own life in detention.”
“How come this dude—” Karl stops, starts again. “How come thename on the envelopeisn’t still in there?”
“He got a lighter sentence. Got out when he turned eighteen.”
“I don’t remember hearing anything about that.”
Lee shrugs. “You weren’t supposed to.”
“But that’s aniceapartment,” Karl says, “in a nice place. I mean, what are we talking, two grand a month? And he’s anarchitect.”
“Pleasetell me you’re not about to say he doesn’t seem like a killer.”
“But he d—”
“Most people who do bad things do so because a confluence of events has maneuvered them into that position and then pushed them to act, to do something out of character. How many times have we heard, ‘Oh,myJohnnie would never do that, he doesn’t have it in him, you must have the wrong house,’ or, ‘I’ve been best friends with this guy for years, I know he’s not a killer’? Yeah, he didn’t have it in him and he wasn’t a killer—until hedidand hewas. None of us know what we’re capable of, if the circumstances were right. Or wrong.”
Karl raises an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you think you could murder someone?”
“Well, I’m notplanningto—”
“Reassuring.”
“—but I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. Like, imagine: one day you’re outside your house, getting into your car, and—say—your mother is walking around to get into the passenger side.”
“I can’t,” Karl says. “You know Nora would insist on driving.”
“But before she can, a drunk, joyriding teenager plows into her,head-on, right in front of you, pinning her to the side of the car. And then starts laughing about it. Thinks it’s the funniest thing ever, doesn’t care. You can see him, pissing himself laughing, through the windshield. Imagine it. Really. The anger. The rage. Thelaughing. And you happen to have your sidearm, and there’s no one around and you know you can make it look like you fired on approach to try to prevent what happened from happening. What would you do? I mean, maybe you wouldn’t want tokillhim, but wouldn’t yourapid-firea couple straight into his balls? Wouldn’t you love to see the pain on his face that he’s just caused you? Wouldn’t you want to stop that goddamnlaughing?”
Silence.
Then Karl says, “That’s fuckingdark, Lee. Jesus Christ.”
“All I’m saying is child murderers can grow up to be architects who live in nice apartments.”
“What did Nora ever do to you?”
“Dividing people into good and evil is just lazy.”
“Youreallyneed to get a roommate.”
“Detective Inspector?” The new voice comes from outside the car. When Lee turns toward it, she sees Garda Claire O’Herlihy, one of the uniforms who’s helping with thedoor-to-doors, standing a few feet away and bent at the waist so she can make eye contact. “Have you got a sec?”
“Sure.” Lee gets out and then Karl does too, walking around the hood to join the women. “What’s up?”
“We’ve got a resident who’d like to talk to you,” Claire says. “Onlyto you. ‘The guard in charge.’ She might be a bit of a nut, but I don’t get that vibe myself. She claims she has sensitive information about the resident in apartment number one and will only speak to thehighest-rankingmemberon-sceneabout it. She seems a bit antsy. Nervous. She’s in fourteen.”
