The Empty Chair (26 page)

He nodded.

"Remember, Garrett," the doctor said, "we're the good guys. We're on your side . . . Now, I want to try something."

Her eyes were on the boy's face. He scratched at a welt. He said, "I guess."

"See that chair there?"

Dr. Penny nodded toward the chair and the boy glanced at it. "I see it."

"We're going to play sort of a game. You're going to pretend there's somebody real important in that chair."

"Like the President?"

"No, I mean, somebody important to you. Somebody you know in real life. You're going to pretend they're sitting there in front of you. I want you to talk to them. And I want you to be real honest with them. You tell them whatever you want to say. Share your secrets with them. If you're mad at them you tell them that. If you love them tell them so. If you want them – like you'd want a girl – tell them. Remember it's okay to say anything at all. Nobody's going to be upset with you."

"Just talk to the chair?" Garrett asked the doctor. "Why?"

"For one thing, it'll help you feel better about the bad things that happened today."

"You mean, like, getting caught?"

Sachs smiled.

Dr. Penny seemed to repress his own smile and moved the empty chair a little closer to Garrett. "Now, imagine that somebody important is sitting right there. Let's say Mary Beth McConnell. And that you've got something you want to say to her and now's your chance. Something you've never said before because it was too hard. Something really important. Not just some bullshit."

Garrett looked nervously around the room, glanced at his lawyer, who nodded encouragingly. The boy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. I guess I'm ready."

"Good. Now, picture Mary Beth in the –"

"But I don't want to say anything to
her
," Garrett interrupted.

"You don't?"

He shook his head. "I already told her everything I wanted to say."

"There isn't anything else?"

He hesitated. "I don't know . . . Maybe. Only . . . the thing is I'd rather imagine somebody else in the chair. Could we, like, do that?"

"Well, for now, let's stick with Mary Beth. You said maybe there's something you want to say to her. What is it? Do you want to tell her how she let you down or hurt you? Or made you angry? About how you want to get even with her? Anything at all, Garrett. You can say anything. It's all right."

Garrett shrugged. "Uhm, why can't it be someone else?"

"For now, let's say it has to be Mary Beth."

The boy turned suddenly to the one-way mirror and he looked right at where Sachs was sitting. Involuntarily she sat back, as if he knew she was there even though he couldn't possibly see her.

"Go on," the doctor encouraged.

The boy turned back to Dr. Penny. "Okay. I guess I'd say I'm glad she's safe."

The doctor beamed. "Good, Garrett. Let's start there. Tell her that you saved her. Tell her why." Nodding to the chair.

Garrett looked uneasily at the empty chair. He began, "She was in Blackwater Landing and –"

"No, remember you're talking to Mary Beth. Pretend she's sitting there in the chair."

He cleared his throat. "You were in Blackwater Landing. It was, like, really, really dangerous. People get hurt in Blackwater Landing, people get killed there. I was worried about you. I didn't want the man in the overalls to hurt you too."

"The man in the overalls?" the doctor asked.

"The one who killed Billy."

The doctor looked past Garrett to the lawyer, who was shaking his head.

Dr. Penny asked, "Garrett, you know, even if you did save Mary Beth she might
think
she did something to make you mad."

"Mad? She didn't do anything to make me mad."

"Well, you took her away from her family."

"I took her away to make sure she's safe." He remembered the rules of the game and looked back to the chair. "I took you away to make sure you were safe."

"I can't help but think," the doctor continued softly,"that there's something else you want to say. I sensed that earlier – that there's something pretty important to say but you don't want to."

Sachs too had seen this in the boy's face. His eyes were troubled but he was intrigued with the doctor's game. What was going through his mind? There
was
something he wanted to say. What was it?

Garrett looked down at his long, grimy fingernails. "Well, maybe there
is
something."

"Go on."

"This is . . . it's kinda hard."

Cal Fredericks was sitting forward, pen held over a pad of paper.

Dr. Penny said softly, "Let's set the scene . . . Mary Beth's right there. She's waiting. She wants you to say it."

Garrett asked, "She does? You think so?"

"I do," the doctor reassured him. "Do you want to tell her something about where she is now? Where you took her? What it's like? Maybe why you took her to that particular place?"

"No," Garrett said. "I don't want to say anything about that."

"Then what do you want to say?"

"I . . ." His voice faded. His nails clicked.

"I know it's difficult."

Sachs too was sitting forward in her chair.
Come on
, she found herself thinking,
come on, Garrett. We want to help you. Meet us halfway.

Dr. Penny continued, his voice hypnotic. "Go ahead, Garrett. There's Mary Beth right there in the chair. She's waiting. She's wondering what you're going to say. Talk to her." The doctor pushed the soft drink closer to Garrett and he took several long drinks, the cuffs ringing against the can as he lifted it with both hands. After this momentary break the doctor continued. "What is there that you really want to say to her? That one important thing? I can see that you want to say it. I can see that you need to say it. And I think that she needs to hear it."

The doctor pushed the empty chair closer. "There she is, Garrett, sitting there right in front of you, looking at you. What's that one thing you'd say to her that you haven't been able to? Now's your chance. Go ahead."

Another swallow of Coke. Sachs noticed that the boy's hands were shaking. What was coming? she wondered. What was he about to say?

Suddenly, startling both the men in the room, Garrett leaned forward and blurted to the chair, "I really, really like you, Mary Beth. And . . . and I think I love you." He took several deep breaths, clicked his fingernails a few times then gripped the arms of the chair nervously and lowered his head, his face red as sunset.

"That's what you wanted to say?" the doctor asked.

Garrett nodded.

"Anything else?"

"Uhm, no."

This time it was the doctor who glanced at the lawyer and shook
his
head.

"Mister," Garrett began. "Doctor . . . I've, like, got this question?"

"Go ahead, Garrett."

"Okay . . . there's this book of mine I'd really like to have from my house. It's called
The Miniature World
. Would that be okay?"

"We'll see if that can be arranged," the doctor said. He looked past Garrett to Fredericks, who rolled his eyes in frustration. The men rose, pulled on their jackets. "That'll be it for now, Garrett." The boy nodded.

Sachs quickly rose and stepped outside into the lockup office. The desk deputy hadn't noticed her eavesdropping.

Fredericks and the doctor stepped outside as Garrett was led back into the cell.

Jim Bell pushed through the doorway. Fredericks introduced him to the doctor, and the sheriff asked, "Anything?"

Fredericks shook his head. "Not a thing."

Bell said grimly, "Was just over with the magistrate. They're gonna arraign him at six and get him over to Lancaster tonight."

"
Tonight?
" Sachs said.

"Better to get him out of town. There're a few peoplearound here'd like to take matters into their own hands."

Dr. Penny said, "I can try again later. He's very agitatedright now."

"'Course he's agitated," Bell muttered. "He just got himself arrested for murder and kidnapping. That'd make me agitated too. Do whatever you want in Lancaster but McGuire's slapping the charges on him and we're shipping him out 'fore dark. And by the way, Cal, I have to tell you: McGuire's going for murder one."

• • •

In the County Building, Amelia Sachs found Rhyme as ornery as she'd thought he'd be.

"Come on, Sachs, help poor Ben with the equipment and let's get on our way. I told Dr. Weaver I'd be at the hospital some time this
year
."

But she just stood at the window, looking out. Finally she said, "Rhyme."

The criminalist looked up, squinted as he studied her the way he'd study a bit of trace evidence he couldn't identify. "I don't like that, Sachs."

"What?"

"I don't like it one bit. Ben, no, you have to take the armature off before you pack it up."

"Armature?" Ben was struggling to close up the boxy ALS – alternative light source, used to image substances invisible to the unaided eye.

"The wand," Sachs explained and took over packing up the device.

"Thanks." Ben began to coil computer wire.

"That look of yours, Sachs.
That's
what I don't like. Your look and the tone of your voice."

"Ben," she asked, "could you give us a few minutes alone?"

"No, he couldn't," Rhyme snapped. "We don't have time. We've got to get packed up and out of here."

"Five minutes," she said.

Ben looked from Rhyme to Sachs and because Sachs stared at him with an imploring gaze, not an angry gaze, she won the contest and the big man stepped out of the room.

Rhyme tried to preempt her. "Sachs, we've done all we can do. We saved Lydia. We've caught the perp. He'll take a plea and tell them where Mary Beth is."

"He's not going to tell where she is."

"But that's not our problem. There's nothing more –"

"I don't think he did it."

"Killed Mary Beth? I agree. The blood shows she's probably alive but –"

"I mean, killed Billy."

Rhyme tossed his head, to flick an infuriating tail of hair off his forehead. "You believe that man-in-the-tan-overalls story that Jim mentioned?"

"Yes, I do."

"Sachs, he's a troubled boy and you feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for him. But –"

"That doesn't have anything to do with it."

"You're right, it doesn't," he snapped. "The
only
thing that's relevant is the evidence. And the evidence shows there's no man in overalls and that Garrett's guilty."

"The evidence
suggests
he's guilty, Rhyme. It doesn't prove it. Evidence can be interpreted in a lot of different ways. Besides, I've got some evidence of my own."

"Such as?"

"He asked me to take care of his insects for him."

"So?"

"Doesn't it seem a little odd that a cold-blooded killer would care what happened to some goddamn insects?"

"That's not evidence, Sachs. That's his strategy. It's psychological warfare, trying to break down our defenses. The boy's smart, remember. High IQ, good grades. And look at his reading matter. It's heady stuff – he's learned a lot from the insects. And one thing about them is that they have no moral code. All they care about is surviving.
Those
are the lessons he's learned.
That's
been his child development. It's sad, but it's not our problem."

"You know that trap he set. The pine-bough trap?"

Rhyme nodded.

"It was only two feet deep. And the hornets' nest inside? It was empty. No wasps. And the ammonia bottle wasn't rigged to hurt anybody. It was just so he'd have some warning when a search party was getting close to the mill."

"That's not empirical evidence, Sachs. Like the bloody tissue, for instance."

"He said he had been masturbating. And that Mary Beth hit her head and he wiped the wound with it. Anyway, if he raped her what would be the point of a tissue?"

"To clean up afterward."

"Doesn't fit any rape profile I know."

Rhyme quoted himself, from the foreword of his criminalistics textbook, "'A profile is a
guide
. Evidence is –'"

"– 'God,'" she completed the quotation. "Okay, then – there were plenty of footprints at the scene. Remember, it was trampled. Some of those might've been the overall man's."

"There are no other prints on the murder weapon."

"He claims the man wore gloves," she countered.

"But no leather grain prints either."

"Could've been cloth. Let me test it and –"

"'
Could
have,
could
have . . .' Come on, Sachs, this is pure speculation."

"But you should've heard him when he was talking about Mary Beth. He was
concerned
about her."

"He was acting. What's my number-one rule?"

"You have a lot of number-one rules," she muttered.

He continued unfazed, "You can't trust witnesses."

"He thinks he loves her, he cares for her. He really believes he's protecting her."

A man's voice interrupted. "Oh, he
is
protecting her." Sachs and Rhyme looked to the doorway. It was Dr. Elliott Penny. He added, "Protecting her from himself."

Sachs introduced them.

"I wanted to meet you, Lincoln," Dr. Penny said. "I specialize in forensic psychology. Bert Markham and I were on a panel together at the AALEO last year and he speaks highly of you."

"Bert's a good friend," Rhyme said. "Just appointed head of Chicago PD Forensics."

Dr. Penny nodded toward the corridor. "Garrett's lawyer's in there with the D.A. right now but I don't think the outcome's going to be very good for the boy."

"What did you mean just then, about protecting her from himself?" Sachs asked cynically. "Some kind of multiple personality crap?"

"No," replied the doctor, not at all troubled by her abrasive skepticism. "There's definitely some mental or emotional disturbance at work but it's nothing as exotic as multiple personalities. Garrett knows
exactly
what he did to Mary Beth and Billy Stail. I'm pretty sure he's hidden her someplace to keep her away from Blackwater Landing, where he probably
did
kill those other people over the past couple of years. And scared – what was his name? – the Wilkes boy into killing himself. I think he was planning to rape and kill Mary Beth at the same time he killed Billy but that the part of him that quote
loves
her wouldn't let him. He got her away from Blackwater Landing as fast as he could to keep from hurting her. I think he
did
rape her, though to him it's not rape, just the consummation of what he sees as their quote
relationship
. As normal to him as a husband and wife on their honeymoon. But he still felt the urge to kill her and so he went back to Blackwater Landing the next day and got a substitute victim, Lydia Johansson. He was undoubtedly going to murder her in place of Mary Beth."