Dead Mann Walking

13

I was still rubbing my neck when I got back to the office, trying my damnedest to think things through without dwelling on the obvious.

“Cathy, Kendrick, Lenore. Why spouse killers? Why the head?”

Ashby kept quiet the whole time I was giving Misty the short version, but the second I mentioned Kendrick, he started in with that laugh and wouldn’t stop.

“Heh-heh-heh.”

I glared at him a second, then went back to pacing. “What do they do with them? Do they need them for something?”

“Heh-heh-heh.”

Great. I was making him nervous; he was making me nervous. What a wacky pair.

“Quiet, Ashby! Are they making fucking lamps out of them?”

Misty stood between us. Apparently I looked pretty angry. “Hess, maybe you shouldn’t talk about this in front of . . .”

“Heh-heh-heh-heh.”

I was in no shape to listen to reason. I wasn’t even interested in trying. “I know, I know! But I have to. I’ve got to figure this out. Do they collect them? Is it a cult?”

“Heh-heh-heh.”

“Kid, could you keep it down? Please? It’s my neck we’re talking about.”

“Can’t help it, can’t help it. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh.”

“Could you please just shut the fuck . . .”

Before I realized it, I’d raised my fist, ready to punch the wall. Misty grabbed my hand and repeated, “He can’t help it.”

I shrugged off her hand. “Shut up,” I said. But I said it slowly, deliberately. “Shut up. Shut up.”

“Calm down!”

“I am calm!” I shouted. I shivered and gave her a smile. “Sorry, Mist. I’m not talking to you or the kid. I’m talking shut up in general. As in, what if they’re taking the heads as a way to shut them up?”

“Heads can’t talk by themselves, Hess. They . . . die.”

“We don’t know that. ChemBet and the government have too many reasons to lie about it. D-capping sounds quick and humane. What if it just makes the ferals less dangerous for shipping? The masses wouldn’t want to hear that crushing or roasting was the only way to really end it.”

Misty gave me a look, walked Ashby into the other room, and shut the door, muffling his voice. Now it almost sounded like a dance beat from a distant party. She came back in and shook her head. “Even if the . . . heads . . . could somehow talk, what would the killers be shutting them up about?”

“You got me there. It’s got to be simple, whatever it is. I know it. Why can’t I get my stupid fucking head to work?” I stormed around, probably looking like I was going to punch something again.

“Hess, Ashby’s gone. You want me to go in the other room, too? Please take a breath.”

I stopped in my tracks and practically smiled. “You want to rephrase that?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Calm down.”

I sat down. “I’ll do what I can. The only obvious thing would be so they couldn’t identify the killers. But so what if they did? No one listens to chakz. Their last words would be to some cop on trash duty before they were carted off to be burned or crushed.”

“Even some garbagemen believe in chak rights.”

“One or two at last count. Anyone who doesn’t live in a shantytown or the Bones thinks the laws on the books are enough to protect us. Maybe they suspect the laws aren’t upheld, but no one’s really asking. If you were the killer, it wouldn’t matter, unless you were . . .” I let the sentence trail off and left my mouth half-open. Maybe if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be true.

“What? Unless you were what?”

“Unless you were someone paid to uphold those laws. If word got out, you wouldn’t do time, but you might lose your job.”

“You mean a cop?”

“I’m thinking worse than that. What if it’s Tom Booth?”

“No. Hess, you always said he was a good guy.”

“When it comes to the living. I’ve never seen anyone hate chakz as much as he does. Never met anyone who took an overturned conviction more personally. What if he decided to correct what he thought of as injustices? He started with Colin Wilson; then the hakker attack pretty much handed him Boyle.” I grabbed my neck again. “Funny, you’d think he’d start with me. Maybe he’s saving me for last. What if there are more out there and he’s planning on going after them, too?”

Misty rushed up and buried her head in my shoulder. “Hess, if it is him, what are we going to do?”

I shrugged, absently patting her back. “Move out of the state.”