Field of Graves(70)

Taylor and Sam were staring with their mouths agape. Either he was right on target, or he’d gone round the bend. He shook the hair out of his eyes and launched back in.

“You know Socrates was unjustly sentenced to death and was forced to create his own execution? So in order to maintain his dignity, he drank hemlock, effectively committing suicide?”

They still looked confused, but Taylor motioned with her hand. “Go on, Baldwin.”

“Man, didn’t you guys ever study the classics? Anyway, there’s always been some debate over whether it was actually hemlock that he drank. The descriptions of his death weren’t completely consistent with hemlock poisoning. In some circles, they believe it was aconite.”

“Wait a minute. So you’re saying that the herbs were a burial rite, and the aconite was to symbolize Socrates’s death?” Sam was shaking her head, looking at them like they were crazy. But Taylor took it a step further.

“I see where you’re going, Baldwin. The guy knows the classics. Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, the fathers of modern logic. The ancient Greeks and their rash of poisonings. This MO was logical to him. If he gave the girls poison, they would be purged, cleansed, right? You said early on that he was sacrificing them. Socrates had to sacrifice himself to save his dignity, to make sure no one thought he was a coward. What better way to sacrifice them than by following the lead of one of the greatest philosophers in the world?” She trailed off.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “In his world, Taylor. In his world. We’ve got him.”





58



Jill began to wake. She had been dreaming of something, but she couldn’t remember it exactly. She felt peaceful and happy, so it must have been a good dream.

She started to get out of the bed and realized where she was. Locked in a room by a man she thought cared for her. She started screaming his name as loud as she could, desperate to know what was going on.

“Hello? Hello? Are you here?” There was no response. She yelled louder. “Is anyone there? Help me, please, help me! He’s holding me prisoner. Please, somebody help!”

She heard footsteps running down the hall. The locks turned and the man came into the room. He was disheveled and looked ill. There was sweat dripping off his brow, and his face was gray, as though no blood was reaching it. He came over to the bed, breathing heavily. Jill scooted out from under the covers and tried to back away, but he was too quick. He grabbed her and nearly threw her back onto the bed.

“Don’t do that again, Jill. I’m warning you.”

She had never heard that tone from him. It was angry, threatening. His body was tensed, and she feared for a moment that he would hit her. She cowered on the bed.

The man reached in his pocket and drew out a syringe. His entire demeanor changed. He smiled sweetly and transformed into the man she knew. But she was afraid now, afraid that he was actually going to hurt her.

Jill began to beg. “Oh God, please, no. Don’t give me any more of that. I swear I’ll be good. Please, just let me go home.”

He shook his head sadly and chucked her under the chin. She flashed to an old memory of her grandfather—he used to ball his fist and gently bump her under the chin just the same way. “Chin up, girl,” he always said.

He grabbed her hand, and his touch made her shudder. His hand was cold and clammy, and she tried to yank hers back. But he held fast, caressing her fingers one by one.

“Oh, my sweet, darling girl, I wish I could let you go. But there is a bad world out there, a world that is conspiring to hurt you. There are men who want to take you away from me, but I need to keep you close, by my side. I need to know my son is safe. They will take him away from us, away from me. I am his father. I need to show him the way. I’m the only one who can help him, guide him. He has so many things to do to save us, and it is my responsibility to let the world understand his importance. Don’t you understand? I have taken all the steps I know of to keep both of you safe. But it’s better for you not to fight. I hate to see you anxious, and it’s not good for my son. You just need to stay calm and relaxed. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Jill started crying. She knew he was crazy, and what he was saying made no sense. His son was going to save them? Save them from what?

“Please, I don’t understand. Let me go home. I know my family’s frightened to death. I don’t even know how long it’s been since you brought me here.” She saw she wasn’t getting anywhere and decided to try a different tactic. She was willing to tell him anything to make him let her go. She pitched her voice low, seductive.

“I love you, you know that. I’ll always come back to you. I’d never take your child from you. Why have you changed so much? Please, just let me go, or let me call my parents and tell them I’m okay.”

Her pleading was having no effect on him. He held the syringe up to the light, checking for air bubbles. “Soon, love. Soon, you’ll be able to see them. After my son is born.” He pulled her arm straight and injected the drug into her vein. “You rest now, and be a good girl. I’ll tell you a bedtime story.” He fluffed up her pillows and pulled the blanket up around her chin, stopping briefly to put his hand on her growing belly.

“Do you remember Plato?”

She nodded weakly; whatever drug he was giving her was already taking effect.