Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(120)

“It never occurred to me there had been murders. Lieutenant, he’s nonviolent, and as I said, passive. He spoke of girls, plural, but we assumed—and actually assumed correctly—that he saw them as a whole. The bad girls, the lost girls. He would save them. He’s delusional, and his upbringing—well, as I said, it would take hours to explain. You’re going to find he doesn’t see them as dead, but saved. He doesn’t understand he killed them. His mind is childlike. There is anger, but it’s diffused now. He has duties here, a routine, those who tend to him. He isn’t asked to do what he feels unable to do.”

He stopped in front of the door where Peabody stood.

“Will you permit me to remain, and Nash? He’d be less anxious.”

“We’ll try it that way. If you interfere, you’re out.”

With a nod, Gibbons opened the door.

Nash Jones rose immediately, all but launching out of the chair where he sat watching his brother slowly fold clothes into a small suitcase.

“Lieutenant, I—”

Gibbons shook his head. “Monty, you have some company.”

“I’m going on a trip.”

He looked like a child in a man’s body. His face, soft, going doughy, sat pale under a messy crop of sandy hair. His eyes had a dull, disengaged look to them.

“I’m packing. I can do it myself.”

“I need to ask you some questions.”

“Dr. Gibbons asks the questions.”

“So do I.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“No, I’m the police.”

“Uh-oh, somebody’s in trouble!” He grinned at his brother as if they shared a joke.

“I’m going to read you your rights. Do you understand about rights?”

“It’s all right if I have dessert first sometimes, as long as I eat the rest.”

Oh boy, Eve thought, but read off the Revised Miranda. “Do you understand any of that?”

“I don’t have to talk to you unless I want to.”

“That’s right. And you can have a lawyer here.”

“I have Monty and Dr. Gibbons. They’re smart.” Carefully, he folded a navy blue sweater into the suitcase. “I can be smart if I think about it.”

“Okay. I want to talk to you about when you lived in New York. About The Sanctuary.”

“I can’t go there anymore. It’s not home anymore. This is home.”

“But when it was home, you knew Shelby. You remember Shelby.”

“She’s bad. She said she was my friend, but she was mean to me. She’s bad,” Monty said under his breath. “I want to pack for my trip.”

“You can talk to Lieutenant Dallas while you pack,” Gibbons said gently.

“Dallas is a city in Texas. Everybody knows that. I’m a city, too.”

“How was Shelby mean to you?”

“How come I have to tell you? Nash made me tell him. He said I had to tell him because he’s my brother. You’re not my brother.”

“You should tell her what you told me.” His voice thick with tears, Nash laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“You got mad. I don’t like it when you get mad.”

“I got mad in New York, a long time ago. I was upset, and I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. But I didn’t get mad today, when you talked to me, when you told me about Shelby, and—and the others.”

“Because we’re Nash and Monty. Brothers forever.”

“Why didn’t you tell Monty about Shelby, and the other girls, before?” Eve asked him.

“He was mad, so I didn’t tell. Then I had to come here, but Peter’s here, so that’s good. Then I forgot. They don’t have bad girls here, and I forgot about it. I don’t even dream about it anymore.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it, about Shelby?” Eve prompted.

“It’s all right to tell her, Monty,” Peter urged him. “She won’t get mad.”

“Shelby said she’d make me feel good a special way, a secret way. She did, but it’s bad. She’ll get in trouble if I tell you. I don’t tattle.”

He mimed zipping his lip.

“That’s okay. What happened to Shelby?”

“Nothing.” He lifted his hands in the air, shook them. “Nothing, nothing. She wanted to stay in The Sanctuary. Me, too, but Monty and Philly said no. But the other place wasn’t home, so me and Shelby wanted to stay. Shelby said I could, then she said I couldn’t because I was stupid. And it hurt my feelings. She was bad. We’re supposed to help the bad girls be good. I helped her be good. And her friend, too. And I helped the girls so they could be good and stay home. Now I’m going on a trip.”

“How did you help them?”

“I don’t remember.” Slyly, just a little slyly, he tracked his eyes right and left. “I don’t think about it.”

“I think you do. You put a sedative in some drinks. You needed them to be quiet and still.”

“I had to.” Monty puffed out his cheeks, then released all the air. “They wouldn’t understand when they were bad. After, then they’d understand. Once we’d washed the bad out. I filled the tub, nice and warm. Cold water’s not fun. I didn’t want them to be cold because I had to take their clothes off. I didn’t touch. I promise!”