Claire turned another page of the book. “I am more ferocious than he. Did you know that the Hawthorne Bridge was built in 1910?”
There was a knock and Claire leaped up to get the door.
“It’s me,” they both heard Henry’s voice say. Claire opened the door and Henry walked in pulling a large suitcase. He rolled the suitcase against the wall and rubbed his shoulder.
“Did you get everything?” Archie asked. He and Henry both knew he meant the pills.
“I packed a few sets of clothes for the kids, for you, and for Debbie. We can drive one of you by in the next few days for more. Toiletries,” Henry added, “are in the outside pouch.”
“Susan?” Archie asked.
“Just got her settled,” Henry said. “Along with the mother.” He rubbed his shoulder some more. “It took five trips to get all their crap upstairs.”
“What’s the latest?” Archie asked.
Henry leaned against the baby-shit wall and crossed his arms. “Manhunt of the century. Five agencies. Us. State cops. FBI. Coast Guard. National Guard.”
“Who’s coordinating the Feds?” Archie asked.
“Sanchez.” There were some takeout boxes of half-eaten Thai food on the coffee table. “Pad kee mao?” Henry asked Claire.
“With tofu,” Claire said.
“You know I like chicken,” Henry said.
“I was ordering for me,” Claire said.
“I’m not saying I won’t eat it,” Henry said. He picked up a box of noodles and a pair of used chopsticks to shovel in a few mouthfuls. “Sanchez will be by later,” he said, chewing. “He’s getting things set up in the field. Her picture’s all over the media. The whole world knows what she looks like. We’re going to catch her.”
“What about the heart?” Archie asked. He couldn’t rid himself of the image of the severed heart in those bloody lunch boxes.
Henry wiped some grease off his mustache with his hand. “They think it’s male,” he said.
Claire glanced up from the book. “How do they know?”
“It had a tiny penis,” Henry said.
No one laughed.
“I’m just trying to lighten the mood,” Henry said.
Archie saw Claire shoot Henry a look.
Henry looked at the floor and took another bite of food. This time he swallowed it before he spoke. “How are the kids?” he asked Archie.
It was a question Archie couldn’t answer. The kids had clung to Debbie all afternoon. Sara wouldn’t even go into the bathroom without her. But they had barely spoken to him.
Archie cleared his throat. “I need to get back to work,” he said. “Susan ID’d our first Jane Doe from the park as Molly Palmer.”
Henry leaned forward, chopsticks poised over the paper takeout box. “Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah,” Archie said, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Keep it quiet for now.”
“Who’s Molly Palmer?” Claire asked.
There was another knock at the door, three hesitant, evenly spaced raps. “Officer Bennett, sir,” a voice said.
Henry reached over and opened the door, and Officer Bennett’s head appeared. He wasn’t as dirty as he’d been after he’d slid down the ravine at the Molly Palmer crime scene, but he still had that startled, anxious expression. He looked at Archie. “Susan Ward wants to see you, sir.”
“Consider her announced,” Archie said.
Susan walked into Archie’s room. Her turquoise hair was wet and combed straight back and tucked behind her ears, making her look much younger. She was wearing sweatpants and a University of Oregon sweatshirt and lugging a large box.
“Are you and your mom okay?” asked Archie.
Susan didn’t answer. She just carried the box over and set it on the coffee table in front of Archie.
“What’s that?” Archie asked.
“All my notes and tapes on Castle,” Susan said. “Someone killed him. Someone killed him and Parker. And Molly. And probably that blond woman in the park.” She looked around the room at the three cops. “Find out who.”
CHAPTER
30
It was two in the morning and Henry and Claire had finally gone home. The Arlington during the day was quiet. The Arlington at night was cryptlike. Archie was going through the contents of Susan’s box. There were discs with digital recordings of interviews that Susan had had with Molly Palmer, people who’d known her as a teenager, and a variety of people connected to the case, including the senator’s former and current staffers, and even the mayor. Susan’s story was going to be big. And a lot of people knew it was in the works.
Archie listened to one of the recordings on his laptop while he leafed through the twelve reporter’s notebooks that Susan had included in the box. Her scribble was almost illegible, and punctuated with random notes on that night’s take-out order or band names she wanted to remember.
Then he saw a name, underlined, and followed by a question mark. John Bannon?
That was a name from the past.