Page 91 of Vicious Hearts

"So when the senator was murdered, Buckley lost his supply of victims," Landon says. "Moira Coffey was a trustee at Always Home by then."

I flip to a photo of Adrian, Moira, and Eddie Coffey, taken on a skiing holiday. Moira and Eddie's eyes have been scratched out. "Buckley saw an opportunity and approached Moira, threatening to ruin her new lifeandkill her kid unless she cooperated with him. She recommended him for the post of managing director at the charity."

"And all those referrals that he personally handled." Landon shakes his head sadly. "If he found one he liked the look of, he took down the details and never filed it. Just followed the trail, picked up the kids, and that was it."

"Thatwouldhave been it," I say, "but Buckley got paranoid about being caught. Max Fisher had been found and identified, and he was afraid the cops were getting closer. When Graham Fisher introduced Buckley to Farraday, he saw his chance—Farraday had gambling debts, and Buckley wheedled his way into his confidence, offering to help him. Then he closed the trap, and Farraday was too frightened to resist."

"Jesus." Landon shudders. "All that stuff Farraday said in his testimony. Seeing the dead girl, having to touch the corpse. Watching his wife's heart break when the fingers were found."

Simon Farraday testified with great dignity. The last time he'd appeared in court, he'd had to listen to how sick and twistedhewas, knowing it wasn't true. Then Lois left without even saying goodbye.

Now he has her and Jamie back, and they live in Pasadena, near where Lois grew up. The family will get millions in compensation, and they deserve every cent.

"I'm just glad Buckley's scumbag took a plea bargain," I say. "The hospital said they'll be changing their vetting procedures and increasing security."

"So they should." Landon rolls his eyes. "The bastard had a prior for dealing drugs. No one checked him out before hiring him, and they let him handle medication? He also had a skeleton key and got into the cleaning stuff. Chloroform just wandered out of the building with no inventory checks."

"No kidding," I say. "You'd think the patients were running the place."

"Let me ask you a question," I say, catching Landon's eye. "How do you feel about what happened to Hillard? Did it seem fair?"

Landon sighs. "Not much in lifeisfair, in my experience. Is it fair that Eddie Coffey woke up in the hospital to find out his mom was dead? Is it fair that the kid will grow up knowing she aided his murdering half-brother, letting so many children die just so her only son would live?"

He's right. Eddieissafe and well, living with Moira's parents, but he'll carry this around for the rest of his life.

I can’t be sure, but it’s my hunch that Moira cut a deal with Oliver—Eddie lived as long as Roxy died. That’s why Moira attacked me. Once she knew she wasn’t gonna make it, she tried to save Roxy, but only in the hope that Roxy would get Eddie out alive.

Moira died from blood loss. I thoughtI'dcaused it when I hit her with the kitchen door, but the fatal injury occurred when she fell down the stone steps leading to the basement, fracturing her skull.

"I know. But Hillard was the scapegoat for the whole mess, even though Oliver Buckley did most of the work."

Landon closes the scrapbook with a frown. "Yeah. Tate didn't deserve to loseeverything. Although I heard a rumor that he got a mysterious payout, so he isn't doing too badly after all."

Yep.Ironic that Hillard, Mr. I-Don't-Work-With-The-Bratva, accepted an off-the-books pension from Kal Antonov. I appealed to Kal to help the guy—after all, Hillard and Ididwork together, and no one came to slap the cuffs on me when all was said and done. Hillard could have sold me out to save himself, but he didn't even try because he was willing to face up to what he did.

Kal went to thekommissiyawith me, and we told the whole tale. Fyodor Pushkin was pissed off but conceded that Hillard was no threat to us.

Pushkin spoke to his good friend, the Commissioner, and Hillard got away with getting fired rather than facing criminal charges. I haven't heard from him since, and maybe it's for the best.

"Doyouthink Oliver Buckley is insane?" Landon asks. "That's the only question left for the court to determine now, and the sentencing decision will depend on the answer."

I don't think he's crazy. Instead of killing himself, he projected his self-loathing onto others, ending livesheperceived as worthless. He's a twisted, pathetic creature who murdered vulnerable children and called it mercy.

Moira and Eddie reflected the foster families Oliver despised during his childhood. He punished them for the cardinal sin committed byeveryonein his life—they didn't see how special he was.

"I know it's tempting to say he's insane, but he isn't," I say, tapping the scrapbook's cover. "All this proves is that Oliver Buckley is a fucking loser. And deep down, he knows it."

I glance at the clock on the wall. I said I'd meet Roxy at one p.m. after the jury had retired to consider the evidence. There's no question about Buckley's guilt—not after all the horrible shit they found in Moira Coffey's basement—but what he wants is clear.

Like Simon Farraday, his play is the guilty-but-insane plea, which guarantees a lengthy secure hospital stay, relative safety, and attention. The attention he desperately wants and doesn't fucking deserve.

"Gotta go," I say to Landon. "Don't wanna miss the action."

* * *

It's noon when I arrive at the courthouse. The atmosphere is febrile but orderly, the cops talking to the crowd and keeping things friendly.

Inside, the public gallery is full, the lobby packed with people eager to see the whole sorry saga come to a conclusion. Ushers are trying to convince people to leave, but no one wants to give up their space.

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