The Tower (1999) (26 page)

"Do I know what it means?" Darby asked coldly, her eyes indignant.

Jade's sigh sounded like a growl. He turned and walked toward the fireplace, having a heated dialogue with himself under his breath. He ran his hand through his hair, stopping to grip the top of his head with his fingers.

"Mr. Marlow," Darby said calmly to the back of his head. "I think we both know you don't have much choice. You need our cooperation. We might as well begin."

Jade turned around. "Fine," he said shortly. "Fine. I'll try to bring him in alive."

"You will not try to bring him in alive, Mr. Marlow. You will bring him in alive. Don't equivocate on that point."

"I'll bring him in alive," Jade repeated, feeling like a punished schoolboy.

Darby stood and approached him, her head cocked, looking deeply into his eyes, asking if she could trust him. "Do you promise?"

"What the hell? You have my word. You want me to swear on a Bible?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. She reached out and tapped the outline of the silver chain under Jade's shirt. "On this."

At first Jade thought she was joking, but her eyes were dead serious. He matched her expression and nodded solemnly. "All right." He glanced at Travers, who had a puzzled expression on her face. "I promise."

"His childhood," Darby said, picking up the conversation as if there had been no interruption, "was turbulent, often frightening."

"Let's start with physical disorders. Anything major?"

"No. He got sick a lot, but nothing serious. Just the flu and colds and things. He wet the bed until he was twelve. Does that count?"

Jade wasn't surprised. He knew from his training in psychology that many disturbed criminals had had bed-wetting problems when they'd been younger. Jade figured he'd probe further to see if anything else turned up.

He nodded. "Predictable. Any pyromania?"

Darby looked surprised. "Yes."

"And?"

"He liked to set things on fire," Thomas said. "Toys, shoes, branches. He'd sometimes get mesmerized by the flames and burn his hand. We thought it was all fairly normal 'boys-will-be-boys' behavior until--"

Darby shot him a glare and he stopped mid-sentence. He sat down on the fireplace with a small grunt and began tracing the pattern of the rocks.

"Until what?" Jade asked.

The Atlasias looked at each other. Thomas's eyes implored her to speak. "Honey," he said. "We talked about this."

"All right. Fine." Darby looked at Jade and forced a laugh. "We already agreed that if I could exact my promise from you, we'd try to help. More. More than we have in the past."

"I . . . well . . . good," Jade said dumbly. Travers looked at him affectionately. He could have killed her for it.

"So what happened?"

"I came upon him one time in the backyard," Darby said. "I remember I was all dressed up--a silk outfit. We were heading to the symphony benefit dinner. It's something we did every year as a family. It was really important to us, still is."

"And?" Jade asked impatiently.

"Just because we're trying to share these things with you does not mean they're easy, son," Thomas said. "Give her some time. She's--we're trying."

"We're sorry, Mrs. Atlasia," Travers said.

"Please, hon. It's okay," Thomas said to his wife.

"And what was he doing?" Jade asked.

"Well, he had cornered a squirrel on the porch, right against the house. I think it had a broken leg or something, and he--" She took a deep breath. "Allander," she said. "Allander had trapped it against the house." Her voice was getting shaky. She looked angrily at Thomas. "Oh, Jesus, do I really have to do this? Is it really so important to bring this up now?"

"It could be," Jade said. Virtually any childhood story might help him understand Allander better. But more important, it established trust with the Atlasias and got them talking. He was just paving the way.

"Sweetheart, please," Thomas said.

"Fine." Darby's hand shot up and nervously patted her hair in the back. "He got a can of Lysol or something from under the kitchen sink and a match. He held the match under the spray and set the poor little thing on fire." Her voice cracked. "I came out when I heard it scampering around the deck. He was . . . he was . . ."

"Masturbating?" Jade said.

She looked quietly at Jade. Her cheek was quivering and he could see the pulse beating in her temple. "Yes," she said.

The phone rang in the kitchen and she was gone instantly.

"Well, hello there! Yes, yes, we're fine. Fine. Great. Uh-huh. Oh really?"

Jade, Travers, and Thomas sat quietly in the living room as Darby's conversation continued. Jade caught Thomas's eye, but he lowered his head and began his mindless tracing again. Darby's laughter filled the room. After a few minutes, she hung up and returned.

Her smile faded as she entered the room. She locked eyes with Thomas.

"Sorry," she said softly without taking her eyes off her husband.

"What'd you say when you found him?" Jade asked her, picking up right where she'd left off.

"I told him he'd burn in hell forever," she said. Then she laughed, a mature giggle. "No, no. We're quite liberal people, Mr. Marlow. I told him that the masturbation part was normal, even healthy. I believe it is," she said, as if someone had disagreed with her. "I didn't want him to feel guilty about it. But I was very upset about the poor animal, and I scolded him for that. A lecture about cruelty to animals. If only I'd known. That should've been the least of my concerns."

A long, awkward silence ensued. Thomas cleared his throat twice but said nothing.

Jade finally broke the silence. "That was before Allander's kidnapping, wasn't it, Darby?"

She looked down for a while, then turned and walked to the mirror. "Yes," she admitted. "It was."

"That's interesting," Travers said.

"Actually, I think it's quite disturbing," Darby said, cutting her off curtly with a smile.

"No, I mean about how you responded to him masturbating. One of Allander's elementary school teachers caught him masturbating and gave him a big lecture," Travers said. "And a spanking, if memory serves."

"It does," Thomas said. "He was quite upset about that. You've certainly done your digging, Ms. Travers."

Travers bit her lip. They were trying to build trust, and she had just made it seem as if the FBI was digging through all the family laundry. Which, of course, it was.

Although Jade was irritated with Travers for her interruption, he realized that it was an important point. At an early age, Allander had received conflicting messages regarding his sexuality from two female authority figures. And his mother was more sexually open, less restrictive than the other. He was bound to be confused.

"It's okay," Thomas said. "We know you have to pursue all avenues." He chuckled though nothing was funny. "Actually, Allander always said he wanted to be a policeman when he grew up."

"Many killers go through periods where they're infatuated with the police," Jade said. "They're attracted by the fact that cops have authority and power, and that they deal with death for a living. It's quite a common interest."

"Not in our family," Darby said. "Umm. No offense."

Jade smiled. "None taken."

"So there you have your incident," Darby said in a rushed voice. "'Beating-Off Boy Burns Furry Animal.' But that was the last of that. Then we had the summer, those three days that stretched to a lifetime. And I'm sure you know the rest."

And they did. Allander had been kidnapped from a shopping mall, lured by one Vincent P. Grubbs into a blue van and taken to a filth-ridden motel where he'd been held for three days. The Columbus Motel. If those three days had seemed like a lifetime to the Atlasias, Jade could only guess what they had felt like to Allander.

"What store were you in when you first realized you'd lost him?" Jade asked. It might have been a cruel question, but he wanted to gauge how they spoke about it--especially if he was going to ask the big question later.

"Shoes. A shoe store," Thomas said. "I was looking at a pair of brown tasseled shoes the fourth row up from the bottom and I fail to see the significance of this, Mr. Marlow." His voice rose, ever so slightly.

That was good. It gave Jade a chance to isolate Darby. If Allander had, in fact, raped or attempted to rape her, he wasn't sure she would've told her husband. She was strong enough to have carried it around by herself to save Thomas the agony. Judging from their closeness, Jade would've bet she had told him, but it just wasn't worth taking the chance.

He would ask Darby, and he would ask her in private. Dr. Yung thought it was a gamble to pursue this point, but Jade felt it in his gut, and his gut had yet to be wrong.

"Thomas, I can see this is hard for you. Perhaps I'd better speak to Darby alone," Jade said.

"Is that okay?" Travers asked.

Thomas looked as if he'd just been betrayed. His face turned red as he fought for words. "I want to be by my wife's side when she discusses our son. As you can see, it's quite trying."

"I know it must be," Jade said. "But I really think it's better that I speak with her alone. Just for a minute."

Darby winked at Thomas. "I'll be okay, love. Just for a minute."

The living room had a sliding glass door that opened onto the backyard. Thomas rose to his feet and went outside. The door slid behind him with an airtight thunk. Jade looked at Travers. "Alone, please."

She stared at him with calm fury, her mouth clamped shut so tightly that it distorted her entire face. She stood and exited. The door closed with a louder thunk.

Jade rose and walked over to Darby. He rested his hand on her shoulder and she received it gracefully, as if it were an invitation to dance.

"How do you know, Mr. Marlow?" she asked.

Jade looked at her quietly before speaking. "I just pieced it together."

"If you're that good, then God help my boy because that's the best-hidden skeleton in California." She was totally calm.

"Do you really want God to help him?"

"When I believe in God?" She nodded. "Sometimes. I think that's the only thing Thomas will never forgive me for. My son was made who he is by the prisons, the psychologists. He can be salvaged."

She grasped Jade's arm around his elbow, leaning for support.

"When did he do it, Darby?"

She tightened her grip on Jade, but her voice was unflinching. "He was seventeen. It was . . . before he fled from here."

"He couldn't do it, could he?" Jade asked. "Allander."

For a moment, he thought she was going to faint. He could only imagine what memories were flashing through her mind. And how much they hurt.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. Your reasoning has failed you."

"He couldn't finish then, could he?"

"No, Mr. Marlow. He could not. He did not ejaculate. In me. Thomas came home and Allander fled." Her jaw was squared, her eyes firm and courageous. "Thomas knows," she said. "But I do appreciate your sensitivity."

They sort of laughed together ironically.

Jade's mind was racing. Allander had not ejaculated. And he had not killed his father. His Oedipal complex had yet to be fulfilled. He hadn't had the courage to finish with either his mother or his father, and it had haunted him ever since. Now these killings were practice runs to get his courage up, to get him past his sexual insecurity. To get him ready to come home again.

"Thank you, Darby," Jade said. He couldn't remember the last time he'd thanked someone. "You're doing the right thing, helping me this way."

She blinked rapidly several times to keep the tears back. "There comes a time, I suppose, when you must let them go."

That's right, Jade thought, Allander's in my hands now.

He remembered his agreement with Darby and felt a sudden claustrophobia. He'd have to deal with that when the time came.

"Don't worry," he said. "I called for two more cars to watch the house. You're very safe."

She smiled and waved him off. Then she went to the door and called Travers and Thomas back inside. As they were getting ready to leave, Jade turned to Thomas. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

Jade's face looked back out of the small mirror above the toilet as he urinated. The bathroom was decorated with floral wallpaper, and carved seashell soaps adorned the marble sink's counter. A wicker shelf protruded from above the towel rack by the sink, and it was cluttered with small, graceless figures that would have been out of place anywhere else--a twirling porcelain ballerina; the three monkeys of lore; a Rockwellesque doctor examining the ear of a freckle-faced youngster.

As he leaned forward to flush the toilet, he was struck with a moment of insight. It was right there in front of him. He turned around and plucked the figure from the shelf, holding it to the light before sliding it into his pocket.

He walked back into the living room, untucking his shirt slightly so that it would hang down over the bulge in his pocket. The Atlasias sat silently side by side, and they did not look up when Jade entered the room. He signaled Travers with a jerk of his head.