you to figure it out and find out who I am. I did it and I'm superkiller and you cops are suckers. You'll never find me and if you do I'll never tell you why.'"
Aaron nodded. "Yeah. There's definitely that, and maybe something else, like our killer set this up to drool over. I think that's what I mean by contrived."
Something to look for, if and when a suspect came along. The murders were bizarre. Maybe that was it: they were too bizarre. As if they were meant to be bizarreâcrimes that were bizarre were generally not committed that way intentionally.
Janek planted his elbows on his desk, rested his forehead against his fingers. When Sal came in he felt relieved; he could stop thinking about how crazy this case was going to get.
Sal read to them from notes. "Taxi sheets covered. Notices up in the fleet-company garages. Circulars out to the owner-drivers. So far no one remembers any particular crosstown passengers that night. Bus drivers don't remember, either. 'Don't even look at them,' they say. Bus driver/passenger relationships tend toward the superficial. I guess that's what they mean."
"I see this investigation is broadening your sensibilities," Aaron said.
"I'm getting to be a regular crosstown -transit expert, yeah. Talked to some of the doormen. Nothing yet. They have special weekend shifts. The men rotate. I'll try a few more tonight."
When Stanger and Howell called, Janek told them to come in. When they arrived the five detectives pulled their chairs into a circle. Janek turned to each of them in turn. Aaron took notes on a legal pad.
Stanger reported that Amanda Ireland's parents were in town, staying at a Tenth Avenue motel. "Very nervous people. The kind that hate New York. The father ID'd her. Mother wouldn't go. I didn't mention anything about the switch. Thought maybe you'd want to talk to them and bring that up yourself."
"I do want to talk to them," Janek said. "Set it up at the motel. No reason to mention the switch unless, of course, they're not sufficiently outraged."
"Oh, they're outraged all right."
"They say anything about boyfriends? She ever mention anyone in her letters?"
"No one except this art teacher, the one from the Weston School. But he's gay. Very upfront about it. Nice kid. They were close. In factâ"
"Bring him in."
Stanger looked surprised. "I spent a couple hours with him, Lieutenant. He's okay. Remember, he threw up."
"Something funny there. If he's an art teacher why didn't he notice he was looking at someone else's head?"
"He's very sensitive."
"A lot of killers are sensitive. If they were close they exchanged confidences. He may be holding something back. Maybe Amanda liked girls. You get to stay the good guy, Stanger. I want a go at him myself." Janek turned to Howell. "What about the pimp?"
"There was one. People in the building saw him. And they were seen together on the street."
"Who is he?"
"An Oriental. Funny name. Bitong . Supposed to be very slick. Soon as I find him I'll haul him in. I got a theory maybe he was trying to teach a lesson. Switching the heads and all as a warning to his other girls. You know, like you get your head cut off if you don't do like you're told."
"Doesn't sound very slick to me. Why the schoolteacher and why the switch?"
"Who knows? Chinese mumbo-jumbo. Maybe Amanda was doing high-class tricks for him. East Side. You knowâdiscreet."
"Forget it," snapped Stanger.
Howell ignored him. "Or maybe Amanda was just a target of opportunity. I mean I try to put myself in a whore's place." They all broke up at that. "I'd be scared shitless by what happened to Brenda. I'd kiss the Chink's behind all night and never think of crossing him again."
"We're getting too theoretical," said Janek . "What have you got on johns?"
"She ran an ad in Screw. Every other week. With a telephone number, too. What's odd about that is that when they advertise they usually work in pairs. Two girls. Roommates. That way there's some protection in
Aaron nodded. "Yeah. There's definitely that, and maybe something else, like our killer set this up to drool over. I think that's what I mean by contrived."
Something to look for, if and when a suspect came along. The murders were bizarre. Maybe that was it: they were too bizarre. As if they were meant to be bizarreâcrimes that were bizarre were generally not committed that way intentionally.
Janek planted his elbows on his desk, rested his forehead against his fingers. When Sal came in he felt relieved; he could stop thinking about how crazy this case was going to get.
Sal read to them from notes. "Taxi sheets covered. Notices up in the fleet-company garages. Circulars out to the owner-drivers. So far no one remembers any particular crosstown passengers that night. Bus drivers don't remember, either. 'Don't even look at them,' they say. Bus driver/passenger relationships tend toward the superficial. I guess that's what they mean."
"I see this investigation is broadening your sensibilities," Aaron said.
"I'm getting to be a regular crosstown -transit expert, yeah. Talked to some of the doormen. Nothing yet. They have special weekend shifts. The men rotate. I'll try a few more tonight."
When Stanger and Howell called, Janek told them to come in. When they arrived the five detectives pulled their chairs into a circle. Janek turned to each of them in turn. Aaron took notes on a legal pad.
Stanger reported that Amanda Ireland's parents were in town, staying at a Tenth Avenue motel. "Very nervous people. The kind that hate New York. The father ID'd her. Mother wouldn't go. I didn't mention anything about the switch. Thought maybe you'd want to talk to them and bring that up yourself."
"I do want to talk to them," Janek said. "Set it up at the motel. No reason to mention the switch unless, of course, they're not sufficiently outraged."
"Oh, they're outraged all right."
"They say anything about boyfriends? She ever mention anyone in her letters?"
"No one except this art teacher, the one from the Weston School. But he's gay. Very upfront about it. Nice kid. They were close. In factâ"
"Bring him in."
Stanger looked surprised. "I spent a couple hours with him, Lieutenant. He's okay. Remember, he threw up."
"Something funny there. If he's an art teacher why didn't he notice he was looking at someone else's head?"
"He's very sensitive."
"A lot of killers are sensitive. If they were close they exchanged confidences. He may be holding something back. Maybe Amanda liked girls. You get to stay the good guy, Stanger. I want a go at him myself." Janek turned to Howell. "What about the pimp?"
"There was one. People in the building saw him. And they were seen together on the street."
"Who is he?"
"An Oriental. Funny name. Bitong . Supposed to be very slick. Soon as I find him I'll haul him in. I got a theory maybe he was trying to teach a lesson. Switching the heads and all as a warning to his other girls. You know, like you get your head cut off if you don't do like you're told."
"Doesn't sound very slick to me. Why the schoolteacher and why the switch?"
"Who knows? Chinese mumbo-jumbo. Maybe Amanda was doing high-class tricks for him. East Side. You knowâdiscreet."
"Forget it," snapped Stanger.
Howell ignored him. "Or maybe Amanda was just a target of opportunity. I mean I try to put myself in a whore's place." They all broke up at that. "I'd be scared shitless by what happened to Brenda. I'd kiss the Chink's behind all night and never think of crossing him again."
"We're getting too theoretical," said Janek . "What have you got on johns?"
"She ran an ad in Screw. Every other week. With a telephone number, too. What's odd about that is that when they advertise they usually work in pairs. Two girls. Roommates. That way there's some protection in
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