Page 48 of Return of the Spider
“I say it again: I did not kill anyone, much less a boy only sixteen.”
I said, “How about Tony Miller? Kid who got stabbed and thrown in the Potomac?”
“Can’t say I know that name either,” Prince said, sounding weary. “And now I see my favorite corn bread and coleslaw coming. I wish to eat in peace. Any other questions, you must talk to my lawyer.”
He got up. “By the way, how did you know to find me here?”
We had prepared for that. John said, “Street soldiers with Lobos Rojos told us.”
Looking into those strange, agate-like eyes, I said, “Didn’t you know? They keep close tabs on you. They follow you, know all sorts of things about you.”
For a second, before Prince put his sunglasses back on, I saw rage flicker through his mask of a face.
CHAPTER
36
With a satisfied groan,Soneji rolled off his wife around ten p.m.
He’d seen her scowl as they’d started to make love, but he didn’t care. He’d just turned her facedown so he didn’t have to see her dissatisfaction.
Missy got up without looking at him and went to the bathroom. He closed his eyes, expecting their evening together to be done.
He’d needed the release. He’d read the story about the DC cop who theorized that he was copying Berkowitz. PhD in psychology. Profiler.
It doesn’t matter,Soneji told himself. He’d mastered Son of Sam, and he was restless, ready to move on.
Now I just have to make it until Monday to—
“You are not going to sleep on me, Gary Murphy,” Missy said.
He opened his eyes, saw her standing at the foot of their bed, nude, arms crossed, rage flaring in her eyes.
“What now?” he asked.Blond cow,he thought.
“You come home, spend half an hour at best with Roni, then disappear into your office to do God only knows what. You didn’t even kiss your daughter good night, you shit. And then you just get in bed and jump my bones.”
Soneji gazed at Missy dispassionately, had a fleeting fantasy of killing her naked.
Everything she’d said was spot-on. He’d come home to their perfect suburban house, a two-story white brick gingerbread Colonial on Central Avenue in Wilmington, and played with his toddler daughter, but there wasn’t really a connection between them. At least, he hadn’t felt one. Ever.
And he’d had to go into his home office to phone the Charles School and see about more opportunities to substitute-teach in the coming week.
Headmistress Jenny Wolcott had gotten on the line herself and informed him that there were no subs needed at the Charles School, but she’d heard there might be a longer-term substitute position opening up at Washington Day School. A teacher there was going on maternity leave.
His response to Wolcott was noncommittal, but afterward he’d immediately researched the school. It was an elite private school, an academy that catered to the children of the powerful, the celebrated, and the wealthy.
The Washington Day School,he’d thought excitedly.It’s perfect. I mean, we’re talking Lindbergh-baby territory. Who knows who walks those hallowed halls?
He knew his real résumé would not be enough to score the gig. He’d need academic credentials and references. But luckily,he’d already created a fictitious background for Gary Soneji. He had forged documents claiming he’d received undergraduate and graduate degrees from the University of Pennsylvania as well as letters of recommendation from three professors and the superintendent of a school system in Delaware. He’d quickly written a cover letter and faxed copies of everything over to the school. Then he’d left his office, wanting a drink and sex.
“Say something!” Missy shouted now, breaking into his thoughts. “This is not a real marriage any more than our wedding was real.”
“Okay, here we go!” Soneji shouted. “Our weddingwasreal. We have a marriage certificate, Missy.”
“It was shotgun,” she said, and she burst into tears. “No one but us and some drunk stranger for a best man. Everyone told me not to go through with it. And now you won’t even look at me while we make love.”
“Who wants to have sex with someone who’s always angry at them?” he spat back.
