Moon Music (30 page)

She was silent. Poe could picture big tears running down her cheek.

"Look, you want to see your boys, right?"

"Steve's poisoned them against me—"

"No, no, no, no, no," Poe blurted out. "I don't have much time to talk before Dr. Braverman returns. You want to get out, you can't talk about people being against you. You have to be positive…say things like…like, 'The breakdown was good. Because now I realize how much I need help. And I intend to get therapy—'"

"But Steve has poisoned them against me. He's also poisoned the nurses against me. He's evil, Rom. He's out to get me. He's always been out to get me. Because he wants his whores and I'm in the way. He wants me out of the way."

Conveniently ignoring the facts: that she had torn up his face, and flown off in a rage. That she had been found babbling in the mountains at four in the morning. Did she remember any of it? Yet her accusations made sense on a superficial level. Jensen did have whores. He had always claimed that he had taken on women because Alison had never been available to him. Which was probably half true.

Alison said, "You know the man who attacked me in the alley behind New York—New York?"

"What about him?"

"
Steve
sent him. He did, Rom, honestly. He sent someone to
hurt
me. So he could have the boys and his whores and no more Alison. That's why he did it…sent the someone to attack me. He did, you know."

Poe felt his heart sink. She didn't want to get out. She didn't want to get better. It was beginning to dawn on him that just maybe she was
incapable
of getting better. Perhaps she was where she belonged. The thought threw him into a blue funk.

"He's behind it all." She was blabbering now. "It's all his doing. Everything. Even those dead girls."

Poe sat up. "What dead girls?"

"Your cases. His cases.
He
did it."

"Did what?"

"The murders. Your cases.
He's
the one you're after. I know about the hat, you know."

That got Poe's attention. "What hat are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent, Rommie, because I know everything. You know who
owns
that hat? Steve owns that hat. He bought it for a costume party four years ago."

Poe realized he was breathing hard.

Not good. Slow it down. Think, Poe. Think!

Delving deep into his mind. Jensen
had
mentioned something about owning a bowler hat. Something about buying it for a party. Could Jensen have mentioned it to throw him off? Could she possibly be telling the truth?

Poe, you idiot! She's sucking you into her delusions
. Mildly, he answered, "Really?"

Alison talked with animation. "Yes, yes, he did, he did own a hat! Check it out, Rom. It's
his
hat."

"Alison, I don't have a hat in my possession. Any idea where it might be?"

"Me? No, I don't know where the hat is. All I'm saying is, if you
did
have the hat, it would be Steve's hat! I swear to God, it's his hat. Find that hat and check it out."

She made a slurping sound over the phone.

"You know, Rommie, the man who attacked me wore a hat. So look where I was attacked. See if you can find the hat."

Poe said, "Alison, are you telling me that your own husband attacked you?"

"Oh no!" Alison responded. "Steve didn't attack me. He sent someone to attack me."

"So…someone else attacked you. Not Steve."

"Of course. He wouldn't be stupid enough to attack his own wife."

"And the person who attacked you also wore Steve's hat?"

"Yes. Steve gave it to him. After Steve murdered those two girls."

Weirder and weirder. Poe said, "Steve murdered two girls?"

"That's what I'm saying!
Steve
murdered those two girls! Mind you, not the Steve that I married. No, the man I married didn't kill the girls. It was my new husband, the evil Steve.
He
killed the girls."

"The evil Steve."

"Yes. The evil Steve. He murdered those two poor girls."

"Both girls?"

"Yes." A pause. "Well, I don't know about the second one. But the first one for sure—Brittany Newel."

Her delusions were peppered with facts which threw him for a loop. Why was she pinning Newel's death and not Yarlborough's on Steve? Poe licked his parched lips. "Are you saying that Steve killed the first one and not the second one?"

"Well, he
could
have done both. But I only know for certain about Newel. They had a thing going. Newel was pressuring him to marry her. Steve didn't like that. Brittany told me the whole story, you know."

Poe put the pen down. "When did you talk to Brittany Newel?"

"I dunno. Right before she died. Before he did it. He didn't want to be with her anymore." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Maybe she was pregnant."

Poe bit his lip. If Newel had been pregnant, Rukmani would have discovered it. "Alison, you should have told me all this way back when. Why didn't you?"

"Why do you think? I didn't want to implicate my husband in murder. But now it's different. Because not only does he want to hurt all of them, he also wants to hurt me, too."

Hurt
all of them
. Poe said, "Who else does he want to hurt?"

"Oh…just me, Rom. I'm telling you. You've got to realize that he's trying to hurt me."

Crazier and crazier. Still, she was making some kind of bizarre sense. "Alison, if Steve wanted to hurt you, why would he lock you up? It would be easier for him to hurt you if you were under his roof."

"Rom, he doesn't want to
kill
me. I'm the mother of his children…of the
old
Steve's children. He just wants to tame me. Because I have the power. It's true. He's jealous."

"I see."

"He
is
jealous, Rom. He's always held the power. But now,
I
have it. You don't understand. He is really an evil person! Are you coming out to visit me?"

The last question said in the same breath as the accusations. Her mind was running wild. Poe answered, "I'll be out as soon as I can."

"Why can't you come
now
?" A pause. "What is it, Rommie? Got a date with your
girlfriend
?"

Her mentioning of Rukmani, even if not by name…it sent chills up his spine. "No, Alison, I don't have a date. I'm in the hospital. I'm still recovering—"

"I didn't scratch you
that
hard!"

So she did remember!
His head felt like bursting. "I got bitten by a diamondback rattler—"

She gasped. "Omigod, omigod."

"Alison, I'm okay."

"Omigod—"

"I'm okay," he shouted over her.

She stopped chanting.

Blessed silence.

Patience, Poe.

Softly, he said, "I'm fine, Alison. I just need a little rest. Just like you. We both need to rest."

A long pause. Poe was about to give up.

Then she said, "So when do you think you can visit me?"

"Maybe in a couple of days."

"
That
long?"

"Maybe sooner. I'll do the best I can."

"I love you, Romulus. You know I love you."

"Take care, Alison."

"You're hanging up?"

She was whining. Poe lied, "They've got to draw some blood from me. I have to get off the phone."

"Will you call me back?"

"As soon as they let me. They're going to give me a sedative, which will knock me out for a couple of hours—"

"Don't take it!" she shrieked. "It's how they control you. What you do is pretend to swallow it, but then spit it out."

"Thanks for the warning. I've got to go."

"I love you, Rom."

"Bye, Alison. Take care." He hung up, heart-sickened by their conversation. A moment later, his phone rang.

"It's Dr. Braverman. You know, we monitor all our patients' phone calls."

"So I figured."

A pause. "You
knew
you were being taped? But you gave her instructions on how to get out."

"I knew I was being taped. She didn't." He was irritated. "She's in a mental hospital. You'd be derelict if you allowed her free use of the phone."

Another pause. "Oh."

"Besides, I'm a cop. We do the same thing."

"Are you having blood drawn now?"

"No. I'm tired. I wanted to get off." He sipped water from a glass. "You owe me. I got her talking."

Braverman said, "What are these murders that she's talking about? Is she making them up?"

"No. They're cases that her husband and I are working on. We work together—her husband and I."

"Who was murdered?"

"That's not really relevant."

"It may be relevant, Sergeant. Who is Brittany Newel? The one she claimed she spoke to?"

"A hooker."

"Could she have spoken to her?"

"Nothing is impossible. Is it likely? No."

"Was she her husband's mistress?"

Poe hesitated. Did Alison really know, or was it just a delusion? Because Jensen had claimed that Newel had been a oneshot deal.

Was he telling the truth? Was she telling the truth? Too much confusion. Poe said, "You know, I'm really tired."

"Could you find out if they were really an item? Because if they were, it might help us understand her delusions more clearly. Because all delusions have elements of truth."

"I understand your interest. But it's not in my best interest to pry into the personal life of my coworker." But Poe was going to pry. Because he had to make
sure
that what Alison had told him was indeed a delusion. "I need to rest, Doctor. Alison exhausted me."

"This attack that was made on her," Braverman went on. "Was it real?"

"I didn't actually see her being attacked. Just the outcome. But it looked real to me."

"So perhaps the actual attack set off the other delusions."

Poe's head was spinning. "Sounds logical."

Braverman said, "I've met Steve several times. I'm interested in your impression of him. It might help me understand Alison better."

Was she kidding? Poe said, "Doctor, I don't talk about my coworkers behind their backs."

"Don't you want to help?"

Poe repeated, "I don't talk about my coworkers—"

"I get the message, Sergeant." Braverman sighed. "We made a breakthrough. I'm just trying to follow it up."

We
made a breakthrough? I got her talking, lady. All you did
was listen.

"Follow up all you want, Doctor. As long as I don't have to talk about anyone, I'm willing to help."

"Just what is your relationship with Alison, Sergeant?"

"A very good question. I really need rest—"

"Sergeant, are you sure you're not using your illness to evade intimacy?"

"Doctor, I don't need illness to evade intimacy. I do it when I'm at the peak of health."

He hung up the phone, surprised by his own insight.

Not that the self-revelation would translate into any meaningful reform.

TWENTY-EIGHT

P
OE BROUGHT
the mirror in front of his face. Three neat, parallel lines running down his neck, dipping under his jawline, and ending at his Adam's apple, all of it tidily raked like a Japanese rock garden. It felt worse than it looked. Or maybe that was the snakebite talking. It was hard to separate the two. Still, he was drunk with newfound freedom and grateful for being tube-free.

Dr. Guenswite had put down the scissors and the tweezers and was now lecturing Poe on how to keep the wound clean and how to change the dressing. A plastic surgeon, Guenswite was in his forties, his face Vegas bronze and his nails manicured pink and perfect. He wore a natty tie under his white coat. He spoke professorially. If Poe didn't want scarring, he'd have to keep the area covered when he was outdoors. Sunlight was the wound's worst enemy. Sunblock was not enough. He'd have to—

"I don't care about scars," Poe interrupted. "I'm not going around with a bandage on my face. It puts people off."

The surgeon spoke authoritatively. "I understand the inconvenience. But I caution you against acting in a rash manner. You may regret it later."

"I'm sure I will," Poe answered. "In the meantime, leave it uncovered and I'll take my chances."

Rukmani broke in, "Paul, could you give me a minute with your patient?"

The surgeon twisted his wrist, flashing a gold Rolex. "I'm on a tight schedule, Rukmani."

"You know, you're just about done. How about if I finish up?"

Guenswite liked the suggestion. He quickly charted his patient, then left, giving them both a toothpaste-white smile. Rukmani waited a moment, then said, "He's a dandy, but a damn good surgeon. And he's right about the scarring."

"I'm sure he is," Poe said. "Gimme a mirror again."

Rukmani complied. "You don't have to be wrapped like a mummy, Rom. A simple gauze bandage just to protect—"

"I thought you said it looks masculine."

"It looks like a baby version of Brittany Newel's wounds." She smiled. "Hey, where
was
Alison on the night of the murder?"

"Out," Poe replied. "How do I know? I've had Patricia check up on her behind Jensen's back."

Rukmani paused. "I
was
kidding."

"I know. But I wasn't. Am I supposed to slap some antibacterial cream on this?"

"I'll do it." Rukmani took a tube of ointment and applied it to her gloved fingers. She dabbed it gently onto Poe's cheek. Instinctively, he jerked away. One-time operant learning thanks to Alison's nails.

"Stings?" Rukmani asked.

"A little."

"Hold still." She smoothed balm over his wounds. "Do you honestly…suspect Alison?"

"As you said, the wounds are similar. But that isn't the only reason."

Another application of topical. "What is it, then?"

He waited a beat. "Alison is just too familiar with the cases. I know she hears Jensen talking over the phone. But even so, she just knows too much."