He reached into his jacket and drew out one of the crime scene photos of the dead girl, sliding it in front of Bordon. “How’d she die, Peter? And why?”
Bordon looked dispassionately at the photograph, then met Jake’s eyes again. He slowly made the sign of the cross. “Obviously, Detective, she was murdered or you wouldn’t be here. Why, I don’t know. I will pray for her soul, though.”
“Peter, her throat was slit and her ears were slashed. The tips of her fingers were cut away. She died in agony. Just like those women who died five years ago.”
“I never killed anyone.”
“You ordered the killings.”
“No, Detective, you’re wrong. I would never order one human being to take the life of another.”
Jake shook his head. “We might not have had proof, but everyone knows you conspired to commit murder.”
“Perhaps I was angry with the women who died…or perhaps I didn’t particularly like them, and though, in my deep belief, I would try not to let my feelings show, perhaps others saw my disappointment in the women, and therefore…they died.”
Jake leaned forward. “Papa Pierre. That’s what they called you. The foolish and the lost gathered around you, hanging on your every word, your sermons or the bliss of immortality for those who learned the true Word during their time on earth. For those who gave their all to the church—your church—and themselves—all of themselves, of course—over to you.”
Bordon grinned, suddenly down to earth, the practiced hypnotic quality of his eyes and voice gone. “I fleeced a few people. I was guilty of fraud and income tax evasion. I’m serving my time. And yes, I had sex with a few women. All right. Lots of women. Lots of beautiful women. Jealous, Jake? You don’t have to be, you know. You reek of testosterone. Women must practically reach out to grab you when you walk by. So don’t begrudge me a little carnal amusement, Jake. We both know that there’s no law against consensual sex between adults.”
Jake sat back. Bordon hadn’t changed a hair. He was calm and serene through every word, every lie, he spoke. He met Bordon’s stare and waited a long moment. “What happened to Nancy?” he demanded, his voice as soft, as deadly, as Bordon’s could ever be.
Bordon stared at him, shaking his head. “Jake, Jake, Jake. You’re like a tired-out old record player. She was your partner, but she didn’t come with you when you came out to harass me. I knew about her, though. She was a computer whiz, right? And at the trial, it came out that she was the one who suggested investigating me for crimes other than murder. But I don’t know what happened to her. I know they found her in her car in a canal, but that’s all I know. Seriously, Jake, get a grip on yourself. I’m a smart man. I can read between the lines. I know what was going on with your partner. Hell, I made a business out of knowing what people’s weaknesses were. You come up here, the determined, compassionate cop, afraid that this new victim is just the first of more to come…but you don’t really give a rat’s ass about that girl, do you? After all this time, you still want to wrap your fingers around my neck and kill me, because maybe that will let you believe that your lover didn’t kill herself because she was miserable, between her two-timing husband and you.”
This time, Jake held his temper. “Nancy didn’t kill herself, Bordon. She was my partner, not my lover, but that’s really not the point. She was a strong woman, and she wouldn’t have killed herself over me, her husband or any other man. She was murdered. And no matter what you say, I believe you ordered her murder, because she knew something. What was it that she knew, Peter? Whatever it was, it is the key to what is happening now. You and I both know it.”
“What’s happening now? Other than that you’ve got a new body on your hands?”
“There’s something going on. More than we’ve seen yet. I think that you know something, something that could prevent more deaths.”
“You have another dead girl. What makes you think there’s some kind of conspiracy? People die down there all the time.”
“But the victims aren’t usually found with their fingertips gone and their throat—and ears slashed. And there’s something else, Peter. I think you’re conspiring with someone who’s still out there. Someone who was on my boat last night.”
“Breaking and entering? What was taken?”
“Nothing.”
“Maybe you’re losing it, Jake. Imagining this conspiracy thing. Maybe no one was there.”
“No, Peter. Someone was on my boat. Looking for something.”
“Well, let’s see, you’re the detective. Couldn’t have been me—the guards will swear to that. So who could it have been? I’ll just bet that late partner of yours had a key to your houseboat.”
Jake gasped, and Bordon smiled in satisfaction.
“She did, I knew it. Maybe you’d better look into that husband of hers.”
“I talked to Nancy’s husband. He says he doesn’t know a thing about the key.”