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recounting of his dreams.
I had almost expected Walter Murphy to call
the local police on us, but it didn't happen.
I half expected Soneji to suddenly appear.
That didn't happen either. "Too bad old Gary
didn't just leave us a map." Sampson grunted
and groaned under the hot, beating sun.
"He was very specific about his dream. I think he
wanted Alex to come out here. Alex, or somebody
else." "Somebody else did. The two of us.
Ho shit, there's something down here. Something under my
feet," Sampson said.
I moved around toward his spot in the trench. The
two of us
continued to dig, picking up the pace. We worked
side by side, sweating profusely. Data, I
reminded myself. M all just data on
the way to an answer The beginning of a solution.
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And then I recognized the fragments we
had uncovered in the shallow grave, in Gary's
hiding place near the fireplace. "Jesus
Christ, I don't believe it. Oh God,
Jesus!" Sampson said. "Animal bones.
Looks like the skull and upper thigh bone of a
medium-sized dog," I said to Sampson. "Lots
of bones!" he added.
We continued to dig even faster. Our breathing was
harsh and labored. We had been digging in the summer
heat for nearly an hour. It was in the nineties,
sticky-hot, and claustrophobic. We were in a
hole up to our waists. "Shit! Here we go again.
You recognize this from any of your med-school
anatomy classes?" Sampson asked.
We were looking down at fragments from a human
skeleton. "It's the scapula and mandible. It could
be a young boy or girl," I told him. "So this
is the handiwork of young Gary? This Gary's first kill?
Another kid?" "I don't know for sure. Let's
not forget about Grandpa Walter. Let's keep
looking. If it is Gary, maybe he left a
sign. These would be his earliest souvenirs. They would
have been precious to him."
We kept on digging and, minutes later, we
found another cache. Only the sound of our
labored breathing broke the silence.
There were more bones, possibly from a large
animal, possibly a deer, but probably
human.
And there was something else, a definite sign from young
Gary. It had been wrapped in tinfoil, which I
now carefully removed.
It was a Lionel locomotive, undoubtedly the
one he had stolen from his stepbrother.
The toy train that launched a hundred deaths.
Chapter 8 8
CHRISTINE JOHNSON knew she had to go to the
Sojourner Truth School, but once she got there,
she wasn't sure she was ready for work yet. She was
nervous, distracted, and not herself. Maybe school would
help to get her mind off Alex, though.
She stopped at Laura Dixon's first-grade
class on her morning walk. Laura was one of her
best friends in the world, and her classes were stimulating
and fun. Besides, first graders were so
damn cute to be around. "Laura's babies,"
she called them. Or, "Laura's cuddly kittens
and perky puppies." "Oh, look who it is,
look who's come to visit. Aren't we the luckiest
first-grade class in the whole world!" the
teacher cried when she spotted Christine at the
door.
Laura was just a smidgen over five foot
tall, but she was still a very big girl, large at the
hips and breasts. Christine couldn't keep from smiling
at her friend's greeting. Trouble was, she was
also incredibly close to tears. She realized she
wasn't ready for school. "Good morning, Ms.
Johnson! was the first graders chorused like a
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practiced glee club. God, they were wonderful!
So bright and enthusiastic, sweet and good.
"Good morning back at you." Christine beamed.
There, she felt a little better. A big letter B was
scrawled on the blackboard, as well as
Laura's sketches of a Bumblebee Buzzing around
Batman and a Big Blue Boat. "Don't let
me interrupt progress," she said. "I'm just here
for a little refresher course. B is for Beautiful
Beginnings, Babies."
The class laughed, and she felt connected with them,
thank God. It was at times like this when she dearly
wished she had kids of her own. She loved the first
graders, loved kids, and, at thirty-two, it was
definitely time.
Then, out of nowhere, an image flashed from
the terrible scene a few days earlier. Alex being
moved from his house on
Fifth Street to one of the ambulances! She had
been called to the scene by neighbors, friends of hers.
Alex was conscious. He said, "Christine, you look
so beautiful. Always." And then they took him away
from her.
The image from that morning and his final words made
her shiver to remember. The Chinese had a saying that
had been in her mind for a while, troubling her:
Society prepares the crime; the criminal only
commits it. "Are you all right?" Laura Dixon was
at her side, had seen Christine falter at the
door. "Excuse us, ladies and gentlemen," she
said to her class. "Ms. Johnson and I have to chat
for a minute right outside the door. You may chat as
well. Quietly Like the ladies and gentlemen that you
are, I trust."
Then Laura took Christine's arm and walked
her out into the deserted hallway "Do I look that
bad?" Christine asked. "Does it show all over
my face, Laura?"
Laura hugged her tightly and the heat from her friend's
ample body felt good. Laura was good. "Don't
you try to be so goddamn strong, don't
try to be so brave," Laura said. "Have you heard
anything more, sweetheart? Tell Laura. Talk
to me."
Christine mumbled into Laura's hair. It felt
so good to hold
her, to hold on to someone. "Still listed as
critical. Still no visitors. Unless you happen
to be high up in the Metro police or the FBI.
was "Christine, Christine," Laura whispered
softly "What am I
going to do with you?" "What, Laura? I'm okay
now. I really am," "You are so strong, girl. You
are about the best person I have ever met. I love you
dearly. That's all I'll say for right now."
"That's enough. Thank you," Christine said. She
felt a little better, not quite so hollowed out and empty,
but the feeling didn't last very long.
She started to walk back to her office. As she
turned down the east corridor, she spotted the
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FBI'S Kyle Craig waiting for her near her
office. She hurried down the hallway toward him.
This is not good, she told herself Oh dear God,
no. Why is Kyle here? What does he have
to tell me? "Kyle, what is it?" Her voice
trembled and nearly went out of control. "I
have to talk to you," he said, taking her hand. "Please,
just listen. Come inside your office, Christine."
on Chapter o .7
THAT NIGHT, back in my room at the
Marriott in Princeton, I couldn't sleep again.
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