Talk (14 page)

"His need to do it," Kunsa said, "is based on his need to feel alive, and it's the kick he gets from this that makes him feel alive."

"What kind of kick could anyone possibly get from murdering someone in cold blood?" Cassy demanded.

"Sexual." The tone Kunsa used was chilling.

"He jerks off over it. I apologize for being so crude, but there it is. When he stalked Jessica through the mail, he jerked off over it. When that wasn't enough, he penetrated West End security and starting jerking off over that. And when that wasn't enough, the stakes of the game rose to something that would really get him sexually excited--murder. And now that the heat's on and he feels he has to cool it, the only way he can masturbate successfully will be to relive the murder somehow, the chase, his obsession with Jessica, the whole game."

Cassy's expression was one of utter revulsion. She looked away, pressing her hand over her eyes for a moment. She lowered her hand.

"I

think we're insane to even consider holding Jessica's book party. "

"But that's how we're going to get him," Kunsa said, "Predators like this will generally do anything to stay near the investigation, to stay near their prey. Often they try to inject themselves into the investigation, trying to be helpful." "Why?" ^ "Partly to eliminate themselves from suspicion, but mostly to" -- . "Jerk off over it," Cassy finished for him, grimacing, "I understand.

But, Agent Kunsa, you also said that;

about Bea's funeral. You've gone over and over those videotapes of everyone who came near the church or the grave"-- " We're still watching the grave," Kunsa reminded her.

"He may come yet."

"Okay, fine, but what's it gotten you?" Cassy asked.

"Nothing."

"We'll get him at the party," Kunsa said.

"Don't kid yourself, he'll be there. He won't be able to stay away. He has this fantasy of not only being Jessica's soul mate, but her protector. He will have to be there."

"We'll have a very tight net around her," Detective Hepplewhite said.

"And around the other guests. Miss Wright's self-defense skills are pretty good and Wendy and Slim are excellent at what they do."

Cassy's eyes moved to Dirk.

"What do you think?"

"I think it may be our best chance of catching the guy," he answered.

"But I have to admit, I hate the idea of risking it. Not with so many big names there." He turned to Agent Kunsa.

"If we do it, I'd want to change the locale at the last minute."

"Of course," Kunsa said.

Dirk turned back to Cassy.

"If we get final approval over the security arrangements, it should be okay."

After the meeting broke. Agent Kunsa asked Cassy for a private word, outside the facility; perhaps they could take a stroll in the square.

Cassy said sure, told her longtime secretary, Chi Chi, to hold off anybody and everything, and took the elevator down to the ground floor with the agent. As they walked outside, she looked up at the three buildings that surrounded the square, the endless line of office windows facing them.

"Yep," Agent Kunsa confirmed, "he could be up there watching us this second."

Cassy frowned slightly, but walked on.

"You seem pretty confident of catching him."

"I am. The trick is to do it without him hurting anyone else before we get to him." They walked a few steps, heading toward the thick line of fir trees that blocked the sight of the West Side Highway, but allowed a view of the Hudson River. They stopped under a shady elm and sat on the bench there.

"I hear Jessica's pretty heavily involved with Will Rafferty," Agent Kunsa said.

"Is that right?"

"Yes," Cassy confirmed.

"I don't know how you can manage it," he continued, looking straight out at the water, "but I think it would be a good idea if you see that she's not left alone with him anymore. Not until our investigation is concluded."

For a moment Cassy was confused and then she caught the look in the agent's eyes and recoiled.

"No. Oh, no--no way. You're way off base."

"It's only a precaution," he said, "until we finish checking him out."

He paused a moment and then looked at her.

"It could be coincidental, but the fact remains, Rafferty's either been right at the scene of Leopold's visits, or has been free and able to leave the notes and presents for Jessica."

"That's absolutely ridiculous," Cassy told him.

"And may I remind you that he was with Jessica in New Jersey when Bea was killed." | "He was not with Jessica at the time of the murder. I He was somewhere outside on the farm, and Rafferty's ;

no stranger to electronics, as you know. " " Agent Kunsa! "

"We also know," he continued in a low voice, "that the stalker somehow penetrated security at Bonner Farm to leave the note and hot chocolate for Jessica under her pillow. And the easiest way, obviously, maybe the only way to do that would have been to have had access to the house earlier in the day."

"So what about Jessica's bridge partner, that French guy?"

"We've checked him out and he's not in the running. Rafferty is, that's all I'm telling you. And I'm also telling you that you better keep them apart until we finish checking him out."

From what Cassy had gleaned from Alexandra, Will and Jessica had been seeing a lot of each other since Bea's funeral, and the anchorwoman had intimated there was a sexual relationship going on, too. And Alexandra should know; Jessica was still staying at her apartment.

"Will hardly fits your profile. He's one of the most successful news producers in the world. He's not insecure. And he certainly doesn't live with his mother." The idea that Will Rafferty. It was ludicrous. She had known him for years, Alexandra had known him for years. But the FBI obviously knew Will's background, his engineer's license, his days in the field, of power packs, splicing power lines to run cameras, jerry- rigging lines off generators during power outages, his visits to nonunion affiliates where he easily pinch-hit as anything from lighting director to engineer. And electrician.

No, no doubt about it. Will knew a hell of a lot about electronics and electricity and gadgets and gizmos.

"It's been my experience that stalkers try to engineer a crisis in hopes the subject will be drawn closer to him," Kunsa said.

"Send her flying into his arms. And in this case, it certainly seems to have worked."

Cassy looked past the agent to where the TV offices were in Darenbrook III, trying to regain her cool.

"How many of our people--Darenbrook employees--are on this list of yours? Besides Will?"

"At the moment, thirty-four."

"Thirty-four? Good grief, I suppose you're investigating my husband, as well?"

"No, we're not. Because, for a start, your husband's happily married."

"So you've been checking on me, too."

"We're checking on everyone, and I think that's exactly what you'd want us to do."

He was right.

"So on this list of yours, it's all unmarried men."

"Let me put it this way," Kunsa said.

"If a guy has active, healthy relationships and a sex life, they move off the list very quickly."

"And if Will has an active, healthy relationship and sex life? That will get him off the list?"

"But that's just the point, Mrs. Cochran. He hasn't had any lasting relationships with women that we can find. And the happy, healthy sex life you speak of seems to have commenced only with the death of Bea Blakely. Which also happens to be the last time that | Leopold made contact." |

"S Later in the afternoon the intercom buzzed in Cassy'a;] office.

"Alexandra wants to see you," Chi Chi said.

"I bet she does," Cassy sighed before telling her se retary to send Alexandra in. At least Alexandra closed the door behind her be for she blew up.

"What do you mean by sending Will to Moscow? Not only do I need him here, but we have a little problem of a murdering stalker running around, and Will is just about the only thing that is taking Jessica's mind off it."

"I'm sorry, but he's got to go," Cassy said calmly.

"There's no one else. Langley can't get there, I can't leave, and someone has to finalize the collaboration agreement for the Olympics coverage."

Alexandra's mouth fell open. Then she screwed up her face in disbelief.

"What?"

"I just told you," Cassy said evenly.

Alexandra stepped forward to lean on Cassy's desk with both hands.

Very carefully, very slowly, she said, "What the hell is going on?"

Cassy met her eyes. "} promised Kunsa I would keep Will away from Jessica until Will was completely cleared in the investigation."

Alexandra looked as though she might be sick, and couldn't speak for several moments. When she did, it came out as a whisper.

"How could you?"

"I have to," Cassy said.

"I have no choice. And I'm asking you to support me in my story and get him on a plane tonight. Besides," she looked away, messing with some papers on her desk, "we need that agreement finalized anyway."

Alexandra slammed the door on her way out.

"You'd better come back in one piece," Jessica said, coming around her desk to be held by Will.

"Because I only just found you, you know. And this isn't fair."

"Darling, I'm so sorry, but I can't seem to get out of this. And the sooner I go, the sooner I'll get back. And

Cassy swears that somehow she'll get me back here in time for your party. "

"} know, I know," Jessica murmured, resting the side of her face on his shoulder.

"Wendy and Slim and Alexandra will take good care of you," he said.

"Hardly the kind of care I want." She sighed, smiling, bringing her head up to look at him. They kissed.

"I love you," he said.

"Yes, I know," she murmured back.

He smiled.

"Jess, you're supposed to say, " I love you, too. "" "Okay. I love you, too."

He shook his head, still smiling.

"You just don't get it, do you? How much you mean to me?"

She kissed him again and said, "I think you'll just have to come home and show me."

Jessica frankly didn't know how to feel tonight. Any joy and satisfaction from having written a book--holding it in her hands, seeing her photograph on the jacket, reading the finished book from cover to cover, seeing it in a bookstore window--had been quickly robbed from her. There was something positively ghastly about an autobiography that ended on such a positive note when Jessica, in fact, was being stalked by a psycho who had murdered her secretary.

The same secretary, incidentally, who had stolen letters and journals from Jessica's apartment in order to sell morbid tidbits about her boss's personal life to the tabloids ("Despite what she writes in her book," The Inquiring Eye said, "friends say Jessica lies alone in her apartment, sobbing, night after night from loneliness and regret." ) On the other hand, she had written the book and it was being received very well and it looked as if it was going to make a lot of money. And once Jessica had made arrangements to donate all monies earned by the book to various causes in Bea's name, she felt a good deal better about the whole thing.

And then, of course, there was how she felt about Will.

Although she missed him terribly, she thought it had perhaps been a good thing that he had gone away. Had he stayed, they might well have ended up doing something rash, like going down to City Hall and getting married in order to prove to each other and to themselves that this relationship was indeed different from all the rest. And how could anyone know something like that in such a short period of time? She knew better. He knew better. And yet they both felt overwhelmed by finding each other, particularly after knowing each other platonically for so many years.

"You've got that goofy expression on your face again," Alicia said to Jessica.

"You're supposed to be memorizing names, not daydreaming about Sir Lancelot."

They were sitting in the back seat of a limousine, on the way to Jessica's publication party. Jessica had made Alicia ride with her, since The Inquiring Eye had already linked her romantically to Slim this week in an article entitled "Jessica Succumbing to Bodyguard's Boyish Charm." The last thing she wanted was the press to see her emerging alone with Slim from the back seat of a darkened limo. Wendy had gone ahead to go over the party site before Jessica's arrival.

"So where are we going?" Jessica asked.

"Rockefeller Center," her head writer said.

"And we're sure everyone was notified of the switch?"

"Believe me," Alicia assured her, "your publicist at Bennett, Fitzallen & Coe made sure. The woman is a tyrant."

Jessica burst out laughing. Talk about tyrants! If aj guest missed a taping or jerked them around at the| show, Alicia was famous for making the responsible^ party or parties suffer for years until they formally apologized and made amends. No one had ever jerked them|

around--no star, no publicist, politician, nobody--and gotten away with it without, sooner or later, having to ask for forgiveness.

At any rate, after the original party date had been postponed, new invitations had been sent out:

Alexandra Waring Georgiana Hamilton Ayres Bennett, Fitzallen

Regis Hotel 2 East 57th Street all royalties from the publication of TALK will be donated to the National Task Force To End Violence Against Women, the Women's Defense Fund, and The Coalition for Safe Families

This morning, however, the very day of the party, as part of the extreme security measures, guests were notified by phone, fax and messenger that they were not to go to the St. Regis Hotel, but to the All Nations Cafe at Rockefeller Center instead. At four o'clock, customers and tourists had been shooed out of the popular eatery and off its terrace (that, in winter, was the skating rink). Large tents were erected outside so that no one walking around the courtyard could see what was go ring on below. Jessica had already been told she was not allowed on the terrace at all, but had a fifty-by fifty-foot designated area inside where she had to stay. Security cameras were mounted everywhere.