Archie glanced at his watch and was startled to see that it was 11:00 P.M. “I just need another couple hours to finish up,” he said.
She clicked the car door unlocked and threw her purse in on the passenger seat and then turned back to Archie. “If you ever want to talk,” she said with a helpless shrug, “I am a psychiatrist.”
“Who specializes in the criminally insane.” He smiled wanly. “I’m going to try not to read into that.”
He noticed then, under the harsh security lights of the parking lot, how much she had aged over the last few years. There were lines around her eyes, and a few fine strings of gray in her hair. She still looked better than he did.
“Did she fit it at all?” she said.
Archie knew whom she meant. “She manipulated the profile, Anne. You know that.”
Anne smiled darkly. “I was convinced the killer was a man. That he was working alone. I didn’t even consider the possibility of a female. Yet you suspected her. Despite the bad profile. The way she infiltrated her way into the investigation, it’s textbook psychopathic behavior. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
“She fed me exactly enough that I would need to go to her, and not enough that I would be careful. It was a trap. I went there because she played me. Not because of my investigative prowess.”
“She knew you wanted to solve that case more than anything. Psychopaths are excellent at reading people.”
You have no idea, thought Archie.
“In any case,” Anne said, sighing, “I’m at the Heathman. If you change your mind. About talking.”
“Anne?”
She spun back. “Yes?”
“Thanks for the offer.”
She stood there for another moment in her leopard-print boots, as if she wanted to say something more. Something like “Sorry your life went to shit,” or “I know what you’re thinking about doing,” or “Let me know if you want a referral to a nice quiet institution.” Or maybe she was just thinking about getting back to the hotel so she could call her children. It didn’t really matter. Archie waited for her to drive off and then he went back into his office, snapped the tape recorder back on, closed his eyes, and listened to Fred Doud talk about Kristy Mathers’s terrible corpse.
CHAPTER
19
A rchie woke from a groggy, unsatisfying sleep, to find Henry standing over him. The office light was on. Archie was still sitting in his desk chair.
“You spent the night,” Henry said.
Archie blinked, disoriented. “What time is it?”
“Five.” Henry set a paper cup of coffee from the break room on Archie’s desk.
Archie’s ribs were sore. His head throbbed; even his teeth hurt. He rolled his neck to one side until he heard it pop. Henry was dressed in black pants and a crisp black T-shirt. He smelled like aftershave. Archie picked up the coffee and took a sip. It was strong, and he winced reflexively as it went down. “You’re here early,” Archie said.
“I got a call from Martin,” Henry said, sitting in the chair across from Archie’s desk. “He’s been vetting the custodians. They work for a company called Amcorp that contracts with the district. The school board laid off all their janitors last year during the budget crisis. Then brought in Amcorp because it was cheaper. They’re supposed to have criminal-background checks on file.”
“But?”
“They’ve got them for some, motor vehicle checks for some,” Henry said. “They’re all over the place. Shoddy. Martin’s been running names. One came back bad. Public exposure.”
“What school does he work at?” Archie asked.
Henry raised an eyebrow. “Jefferson in the mornings, Cleveland in the afternoons. He’s also worked at Lincoln.”
It was a lot of access. But there were a lot of people with a lot of access. “Anyone talk to him yet?” Archie asked.
“Claire. After the first girl turned up dead. He said he was working. A few of the kids reported seeing him around after school. The contractor said he was clean.”
Archie had read the reports. The team had interviewed 973 people since the first girl had disappeared. Claire had interviewed 314 of them herself. Maybe she had cleared the custodian too quickly. “But he was at Cleveland when Lee disappeared?”
“Right,” Henry said.
Archie placed his hands on his desk and stood. “What are we still doing here?”
“Car’s out front.” Henry looked down at Archie’s wrinkled shirt. “You need to go home and change?”