July 23
I waited until well after midnight, until he was almost right beside me, to allow him to bask a few moments in a totally misleading sense of security. Then, just as he exited the elevator and entered the underground parking lot, I grabbed him by the collar, flung him down on the hard stone floor in a storage closet, and locked the door behind us.
"What the-" Halliwell rolled around in the dark, his short roly-poly body resembling nothing so much as Humpty Dumpty after the fall. "You! What are you doing? Why are we in here?"
"I wanted to continue our conversation. And I was hoping that this time maybe you'd tell me the truth."
"The truth! I am offended beyond measure. I know who your superiors are. And don't think I won't contact them. I may even file suit. Flinging me around by force. That's battery. And false imprisonment. I have a very good lawyer, lady. You'll never work in this town again."
"Whatever." I gave him a little kick in the side, not too hard, just enough to let him know I meant business. "Can we continue our conversation now?"
"Absolutely not! And if you don't unlock that door immediately, I'll scream."
"Spare me girlie theatrics." I pulled my weapon out of the holster under my coat. "Because if you try it, I'll shoot you."
"You won't. You can't! I've done nothing wrong."
"I tried to get him to stop, Chief, but he kept resisting arrest. Then he pulled a knife on me. I had no choice."
"I have no knife!"
"I'll lend you one." I cocked the hammer on the gun and aimed it toward his head. "You're only useful to me if you can help me find out what happened to Joshua Brazee. Otherwise, as far as I'm concerned, you can be dead."
"I told you before-I know nothing about that."
"Yeah, but you were lying."
"I was not!"
"Then why did you clean up the blood?"
"I-I did nothing of the sort."
I wagged a finger. "Liar, liar, pants on fire. The carpet was damp. When I returned to Joshua's dressing room, after you left, I found out why. I lifted the carpet in the corner near the television set. Blood had seeped through. You cleaned up the mess topside. But you didn't think to check the carpet pad underneath, did you? Allow me to answer for you. You didn't."
"You conducted an illegal search. An offense to my civil liberties."
I sighed, then stretched out my arms, gun in hand. "Last chance. Tell me what really happened to Joshua."
"I have a right to remain silent. I'm exercising it."
"Listen, Buster Brown-"
"Don't try to do the bad cop routine on me. And don't bother playing any head games, either. You're not gonna crack me, got it? I heard how you took out one of Frank's security nerds. Let me just tell you that I may not look like much, but I got a brown belt in karate, and if you come anywhere near me, your pretty face won't stop me from taking you apart. Try anything with me and I'll put you in the hospital."
"You need to talk to me, Halliwell."
"I'm not telling you a damn thing, you stupid bitch."
So I shot him.
In the upper thigh, barely creasing his leg. I knew (from experience) that a wound like that would hurt like hell, but it wouldn't do any lasting damage. Probably wouldn't even bleed that much. But he didn't know that.
He screamed, but I could hardly fault him, given the circumstances. I just had to hope no one was around to hear. Of course, if someone did try to intervene, I'd just do my Peace Officer routine and shoo them away.
He bellowed, clutching his leg. "I can't believe you shot me!"
"Well, feeling is believing. Want to tell me now what happened? Or should I do the other leg as well?"
"No! God, no!" He held up one hand, then immediately returned it to his wound. "Don't hurt me. I didn't kill Josh. I didn't!"
"I know that," I said, towering above him, gun still in both hands. "No one ever thought you did."
"But-I thought you'd suspect me. Everyone saw us fight. Everyone heard him fire me."
I rolled my eyes. "I get it. You two juveniles had been fighting, so in your egomaniacal way you thought you'd be the prime suspect. You hid all the evidence of murder and told me Joshua was off visiting his mother with the untraceable name. Very smooth." I tilted my head. "It would've been smoother if my research people hadn't discovered that Joshua's mother died ten years ago, but still. You did what you could with your limited resources. Mental resources, I mean." I paused. "Was a part of Joshua's body left behind?"
His face widened, and it wasn't just because of the hole in his leg. "How-How did you know?"
Confirmation. It was our killer. "What part of the body?"
His eyes scrunched closed, as if trying to block out a painful memory. "His right leg."
Ouch. "Tell me that you kept it."
"It's in the basement."
"Don't suppose you know where the rest of him is?"
"No. All the killer left behind was the leg and a lot of blood."
"Tell me about the crime scene, before you screwed it up. Was there anything unusual about it?"
"I need medical attention!"
"So answer my question, and maybe I'll remember that I have a cell phone."
His eyes were watering; his face was losing color. He didn't like any of this, but I really wasn't leaving him any choice, was I? "There was just blood, a huge pool. And that ghastly leg. There were no weapons, no footprints, at least none that I could see. And so many people go in and out of there every day, I can't imagine that you could get any fingerprints."
"We already have the killer's fingerprints. I need something more."
"There was one other thing. A piece of paper." Even though I could tell every movement hurt him, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a white scrap covered with pencil scribblings. I wasn't surprised to see it was mathematical. I didn't understand any of it. But I knew someone who would.
"Anything else?"
"No. I promise. Nothing. Now please call an ambulance."
"I will. But remember-you can't tell anyone what happened in here."
"Are you insane? You shot me! I'm going to tell your superiors and everyone-"
"And when you do, I'll tell them how you tampered with a crime scene and lied to a police officer and obstructed justice, all felonies. I'll lose my job, but you'll go to prison. Gee, I wonder who comes out worse?"
"But-"
"No buts. You keep my secret, I'll keep yours. I'll tell them an overzealous maid tried to clean up the blood."
"But-there's a bullet in my leg."
"No, there isn't. Just a graze burn. Tell the docs you were cleaning your pistol and didn't realize there was a bullet in the chamber."
"I don't own a pistol!"
"You do now."
"But-But-"
"Look, it's your own fault. If you'd told me the truth in the first place, this wouldn't have been necessary."
"You still didn't have to shoot me!"
"Actually, I did. Because I don't have time to screw around with your sleazy little showbiz games. This man has killed four times, and has threatened to kill someone linked to the police department. We think he plans to strike today. I can't let that happen. I won't."