“I made a mistake. The circumstances were … unusual.”
“How’s that?”
“The girl in question was mature for her age. Her behavior was provocative.”
I felt my whole body cringe with repugnance.
“You perverted piece of scum.” On-screen.
“Gives scum a bad name.” The detective behind me.
“I served my time,” Ajax said, unruffled. “I underwent therapy.”
“Last I checked, the sex registry ain’t optional for mutants like you.”
“I submitted my name in Oklahoma.”
“This ain’t Oklahoma.”
“My offense was fifteen years ago. I was required to register for ten.”
“You do that back when you landed here?”
Ajax pulled a wry grin. “I am a changed man.”
“A real humanitarian.”
“I cure the sick.”
“Let’s go back over that. You stitched up a sixteen-year-old name of Colleen Donovan. Street kid brought in by the cops. Head wound.”
“I repeat. I treat hundreds of patients each year.”
“How about Shelly Leal. Came in last summer complaining of cramps.”
“Without access to charts, I can’t possibly know.”
“Yeah? Well, we know.” Slidell’s hand came into view. Flipped open the folder and removed a printout.
I looked at Barrow. He shook his head, indicating it was a ruse.
“Perhaps I treated this patient.” Unruffled. “What of it?”
Slidell’s hand took a second paper from the folder and winged it across the table. “That your car?”
Ajax rotated the page and glanced down. “I drive a Hyundai.”
“Check the plate.”
He did. “The vehicle is mine. And legally registered.”
“We got a witness saw you shove Shelly Leal into that car.”
“That person is lying.”
“Some cold-blooded bastard killed both these kids.” In Donovan’s case, another lie.
Behind the lenses, the dark eyes narrowed a hair. “Surely you don’t suspect me.”
“Now, why would we do that?”
“I’ve told you. I never hurt anyone.”
“How’s that babysitter doing these days?”
“I have never shown physical violence toward any human being.”
“Where were you on April 17, 2009?”
Ajax’s chin hiked up, sending a slash of white across each lens, a double reflection of the overhead fixture. The slashes reversed course as his chin leveled. “I must check my agenda.”
“How ’bout November 21, 2014?”
“Should I engage an attorney?”
“Should you?”
Ajax sighed. “If you had proof of my involvement in these homicides, you’d be charging me with a crime. Since you are not, I assume I am free to go.”
“We’re trying to clear you here, Doc.”
The voice surprised me. Beau Tinker was also in the room.
“Your partner’s tone has suggested otherwise all afternoon.”
“Look, you’re a smart man. Given your past, you know we have to check you out. You get that, right? In order to exclude you.”
“You took me away from my work. I’ve answered your questions to the best of my ability.”
“Still, there are gaps.”
“I can provide more precise answers once I have access to charts and personal records.”
“You don’t remember treating Colleen Donovan?”
“No.”
“Or Shelly Leal.”
“No.”
“You recall no contact with either?”
“None. I’ve made that clear.”
“We want to get it straight.”
“I’ve agreed to be recorded.” Ajax looked straight into the camera, obviously familiar with police interview rooms. “You can refer back to your tape.”
A pause.
“You know a kid named Tia Estrada?” Slidell jumped back in.
“No.”
“Avery Koseluk?”
“No.”
“Lizzie Nance.”
Ajax sat silent and unmoving.
“That one ring a bell?”
“No.”
“How about Nellie Gower?”
“I know none of these persons.”
“Ever been to Vermont?”
“I have answered that in the negative.”
“Talk about Anique Pomerleau.”
“Who?”