Page 96 of The Man Made of Smoke

“So,” she said. “What are you thinking?”

I warmed my hands on the cup as I told her my theory: that I thought the killer might be driven by a deep sense of self-hatred, and that his crimes now were an attempt to deal with that. That in some ways, he was performing an experiment. If the people who failed him as a child turned a blind eye again now, that meant they were bad people, and that allowed him to accept himself for a while. If they didn’t, he exploded into violence.

The coffee was hot enough that my fingers were burning by the time I finished. But I didn’t move them.

“Accept himself for what?” Sarah said.

“I don’t know exactly. Maybe for things he saw and was made to do. We don’t know what his relationship with the Pied Piper was. If he was abducted, we don’t even know when. It’s possible he ended up playing a part in the murders.”

“Jesus.”

“The point is, I think he hates himself more than you or I could imagine,” I said. “And what do we do when we’re angry with ourselves? We lash out. Have you ever done something wrong, but you were so annoyed with yourself that you couldn’t admit it?”

“More often than I’d like to say.”

“And maybe you took it out on someone else instead?”

“No comment.”

“It’s a defense mechanism,” I said. “It’s what the mind does when it feels under attack. Obviously, this is an extreme example of that, but ultimately it’s the same thing. Underneath it all, it’s a little boy protecting himself.”

She was silent for a moment.

“Okay,” she said finally. “So does that mean Johnson was right? If he keeps quiet about what happened, that gives the killer what he wants. The end.”

I shook my head.

“No, because it’s never going to be a permanent solution for him. The source of the anger—the damage—remains unresolved. It’s all still there inside him. And I think there’s a part of him that enjoys it too. Do you remember what you said yesterday? There’s a pleasure indwelling.”

“Yeah. But this is—”

“An extreme example,” I said again. “But it’s the same thing. And Darren Field didn’t go to the police, did he? That didn’t make him safe. The killer basically sent my father to his front door. Because I think hewantedan excuse to do it.”

“Which means?”

“That he’s escalating. It’s a mistake to think of his rules as being absolute. He’s not a robot following a program. He’s a mess. His rules are there to serve a purpose, but he’ll bend them if they don’t suit him. And I think he’s started to like the killing more than the peace he imagined it would give to him.”

She hesitated. And then sighed.

“So what do we do now?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I know you’re worried that talking to Liam might put Michael Johnson in danger,” she said. “But from what you’ve just told me, he might be in danger whether you talk to the police or not?”

“It’s still not my decision to make.”

“Okay. So leave him out of it for now. Leave me out of it. Just tell Liam everything else.”

She leaned forward and looked at me.

“You can make the police believe it. Iknowyou can.”

“Maybe.”

I wanted what she’d said to be true. I wanted to believe that the insight I’d gleaned at the rest area was useful, and that a concerted police investigation, along with the expertise I could bring to the table, would be able to find him. That I wasgood enough.

But I wasn’t sure that I did.

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