“Do you?”
“Yes, but you should have told her where the body was and then you and I could have talked about how you found it, and why we missed it the first time we searched the house.”
“Anna planned this all ahead of time. We didn’t find blood because she spread the plastic from the doorways onto the floor before she killed Priscilla and cut the baby out of her.”
“Ah-ha.”
“Then she broke a few of Priscilla’s bones with a mallet or something so she’d be malleable, wrapped her and the knife and a couple of opened boxes of baking soda in the plastic, and duct-taped everything closed. Then she stuffed her into the wall, screwed the drywall back in, cranked up the AC, and hoped for the best. It’s no wonder she had to take sleeping pills that night.”
Duncan sighed, and it seemed to Eve that his whole body sagged, weighed down by every one of his fifty-plus years and the hundreds of cases he’d worked in his career.
“I should have retired months ago,” he said.
“We all missed this the first time through,” Eve said. “It has nothing to do with you being on the job too long. I just got lucky.”
“What I meant was, if I’d left this job earlier, I never would have caught this case, or our first one together, and I wouldn’t be haunted by these gruesome memories for the rest of my life.”
“I know what will make you feel better.”
He gestured to the food stacked against the wall. “That box of Ding Dongs?”
“Let’s go arrest Anna.”
“She can wait. She’s not going anywhere for twelve more hours,” Duncan said. “I just need a few minutes.”
He grabbed the box of Ding Dongs and took a package out.
“To eat the Ding Dong?” Eve asked.
“No.” Duncan unwrapped the pastry and took a bite. “I have to apologize to Daphne Grayle.”
He headed for the door. Eve started to go with him, but he held up his hand in a halting gesture. “This is on me. You stay here and observe the evidence collection.”
As horrible as that was going to be, Eve couldn’t help feeling that she was the one getting off easy.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Northridge Hospital Medical Center was located at the corner of Roscoe and Reseda Boulevards, which Eve considered one of the dreariest, bleakest, and ugliest intersections in the San Fernando Valley, a washed-out concrete and asphalt wasteland of gas stations, auto mechanics, convenience stores, and payday loan rackets, crisscrossed above by power and telephone lines. So she thought the view from the window of Anna McCaig’s room in the psych ward didn’t exactly lend itself to peace of mind, tranquility, and reducing despair. But it was a view of paradise compared to what Anna would be seeing from her prison cell for the rest of her life.
Anna sat on the edge of her bed wearing hospital-issued clothes that resembled surgical scrubs and the kind of disposable slippers that hotels and spas offered to their guests. She glared at Eve and Duncan, who’d pulled over two guest chairs.
“I’m going to read you your rights,” Eve said.
“You already did that.”
“I’m doing it again.” She repeated Anna’s rights and also asked her to acknowledge that their conversation was being recorded on Eve’s phone.
“That’s all fine, but I don’t understand the point,” Anna said. “I’ve already admitted that I found the baby in my dumpster. Do I really need to say it all again? I know I shouldn’t have pretended it was mine, and that I dragged you and the paramedics to my house for nothing, but surely locking me up in a loony bin for two days is punishment enough.”
“Not nearly,” Duncan said. “Neither is life in prison. But, unfortunately, the law doesn’t allow us to burn you at the stake or stone you to death for your crimes.”
“What are you talking about?” Anna said. “The baby was already dead. I tried to save him. What I did wasn’t a crime. It was an act of kindness.”
“Anna, look at me,” Eve said and Anna met her gaze. “We found Priscilla Alvarez’s body in your kitchen wall. She was wrapped in plastic with a hacksaw, your bloody clothes, and four open boxes of baking soda.”
Duncan said, “You call that an act of kindness?”
Anna looked down at her hands, and picked at some dry skin on her thumb for a moment, before answering in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.
“Yes,” she said. “The boy would have had a much better life with me. I’m sure she would have appreciated that.”
Her reply disgusted Duncan, who gave Eve a look that conveyed he couldn’t stand another minute with Anna. He got up from his seat and walked to the window, turning his back to both of them.
Anna looked over her shoulder at him. “You know it’s true.”
Eve was disgusted, too, but Anna’s reply was a confession of sorts, indicating that she’d accepted it was all over for her and that she might be willing to tell all, if properly coaxed. Eve decided to be nonjudgmental, to adopt the same tone as Anna.