Chambers’ eyes were bright with hate. His hands beat a silent tempo at his side. “You’re out of your mind, Borders. This is over, done.”
“No, Marion. We wish it were, but it just can’t stop, can it? You can’t stop. What was your connection to Dr. Lustig?”
“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about now. All I know is I was exonerated. I always said a nigger broke in and raped her and killed her, and who’d it turn out to be? Nearly had a riot in Liberty Hill, I hear, when you and Dodds chased Craig Factor down in the street and arrested him. Somehow that wasn’t good enough for you. But the killings stopped when Factor was busted.” Chambers stepped aside and moved five paces away.
“I always wondered if you had a hard-on for me because I fucked your wife,” he added. “But I didn’t think you ever knew.”
“We’re talking about you. Why you killed those other women. Why you started again. You came down into the hospital basement on Friday night and did the same thing to Dr. Christine Lustig. Did you even know her name?”
“What are you talking about?” Chambers refused to look at him.
“Did you pick her like you picked the other ones? Remember, anything you say can and will be used against you. You also have the right to an attorney.”
“Eat shit!”
“Christine Lustig. It was your style, Marion. The whole thing, right down to how the knife was stashed. It was you, all over again.” Will studied his face for any telltales, seeing a moon of rage. But he was breathing deeply and sweating, even though the corridor was chill. It was just like those hours after the first homicide when Will and Dodds had tried to break him. Before command had told them to back off, and then the other killings had started. Will let silence fill the space between them for one minute, then two.
“She even looked like Theresa.”
His eyelid. That involuntary flutter.
“You’re done, Borders.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s reality, asshole. Look at yourself.” He spat on the floor in front of the wheelchair.
“But we never answered that why. The criminal mind, you know? Why the other women, when you could have just tampered with Theresa’s sample and gotten off.”
“You tell me, Sherlock.”
“I just figure you got a taste for it…Marion. That happens with some killers. Some are full of remorse the minute the killing is done. And some, well, they get a taste for it.”
“Well you have all the answers.” His voice was low and gravelly, yet it echoed strangely through the hallway.
