He looked at her with open hostility. She revolted him.
‘Okay, I’ll give you more. I had a tooth missing. They get a match on those marks on his neck, they’ll be able to verify it was my teeth — not your dog’s, but mine.’
He wouldn’t look at her.
‘You don’t like hearing me talk this way? Well, why don’t you get Steven down here? Why don’t the three of us discuss just how much it’ll take to buy me off, maybe to send
me
to France and forget I was ever attacked.’
‘You’d do that?’
‘Sure. You wanted to know why I was here, well, now you do.’ Brad was so obviously out of his depth she felt almost sorry for him, sorry to have to be so hard, but she had no option. In some ways she wanted him to throw her out, wanted him to be straight and honest because she liked him so much.
‘How much?’ he said gruffly, not even looking at her.
She inhaled and let the smoke drift out slowly, then rested her chin on her hand. ‘A million. You can afford it. But I want it in cash, used notes.’
He made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. ‘A million.’
‘And I guarantee that I’ll disappear, any charges will be dropped. Suddenly he didn’t look like your brother, suddenly I guess I was just mistaken. He’d never even have to go to court.’
‘I doubt if he will, anyway,’ Brad snapped.
‘You want a bet? Because if they don’t press charges, then I will take out a private prosecution. I’ll have every feminist group backing me up. You wouldn’t believe the stink I could create. You and your precious brother and your beloved mother would be hounded by the press. You won’t buy out of that but you can buy me out now. Go talk to Steven. Is he in?’
Brad made it to the doorway, his fists clenched. He wanted to grab her by her hair and throw her out bodily. He had never felt such loathing for another human being — let alone a woman.
‘Oh, I can see I got you real angry. Well, it’s up to you, I think I’m being fair and square. What’s a million to you, rich boy?’ He moved so fast, one moment in the doorway the next at her side. He slapped her face hard. She held her cheek. ‘That make you feel better, rich boy? It’s just gone up another ten grand. Touch me again and, so help me God, I’ll walk out of here and start screaming my fucking head off. Now go talk to your sick pervert of a brother — better still bring his ass down here. Let’s hear what he has to say.’
He walked out. She was shaking all over — he had really hurt her. She rubbed her aching jaw and checked her face in her compact mirror. Her cheek was inflamed but otherwise she looked better than she had in years. She snapped the compact shut, moved to the hall and looked up. Brad was nowhere in sight. She went into the empty drawing room.
‘He’s gone upstairs, I’m now in the drawing room.’ She said it softly, tilting her head down to the tiny gold heart.
Lorraine heard footsteps and leaned against the piano, as if she was looking over the framed photographs.
‘He’s agreed, a million, but he can’t get it for at least a couple of months.’
Lorraine propped both elbows on the piano. ‘No deal, I can’t wait that long. I want it today. Why don’t you pay me? You got the dough, haven’t you?’
‘This has nothing to do with me. I wouldn’t pay you a cent.’
‘No, but you’d stand up in court and tell a jury that your dog bit him on the neck, your mother would say on oath that her son was with her all day and all night on the night he nearly killed me. You’re sick, you know that? Well, fuck you and fuck your brother. I’m getting out of here, I can make enough selling my story to the press.’
Brad stood across the door. ‘He doesn’t have that amount of cash and nor do I. Everything’s tied up in property, trust funds. I can’t get that amount of money released in a day, it would be impossible.’
‘I don’t believe you and I wanna talk to your brother. You’re a pain in the butt.
Steven
!’
She heard footsteps; he was coming down the stairs.
Steven Janklow walked into view and stood in the hallway.
‘Hi, you remember me, don’t you, Steve? You said you needed to be sucked off in a public place, twenty dollars. We drove to the garage in the shopping mall. Sure you remember. Look at him, Brad, he remembers me. Maybe it’s my scar.’
Janklow’s face twisted in rage. ‘I don’t know you. Throw her out of here, Brad.’
Lorraine remained where she was. She felt safe with Brad between her and Janklow. ‘Fine, Brad, you throw me out, but first fill him in, tell him what the deal is. If you don’t have the cash, then I’ll take a couple of items belonging to your mother. Art Mathews said he was getting good prices for the stuff in Europe.’
Janklow looked as if he would attack her but Brad gripped him. ‘Just calm down, Steven. Have you ever seen her before?’
They moved out of sight further into the hall. Lorraine had to hold on to the piano top, her legs were shaking so much. She could hear Janklow insisting that he did not know her, that she was lying. She hurtled out and confronted both men. ‘I’m lying, am I? Right, you’ll see, and I’ll see you in court.’
She strode into the kitchen and picked up her bag. She was about to walk past them to the front door, when she heard Brad’s low voice, ‘Give that to me! Give it.’
She turned round just in time to see Janklow with the gun but he hadn’t even got it to waist level before Brad had taken it from him. Then he sank onto the bottom stair. Brad slipped the weapon into his pocket. He spoke to Lorraine.
‘You’ll get your money as soon as I can arrange it.’
‘Well, what about the jewellery? Don’t you have any left? Art seemed to think you had more’n the Queen of England.’
Janklow’s head was in his hands, but he said, ‘He was a thieving piece of shit.’
Lorraine sniggered. ‘Yeah, he was that all right but you got no worries about him talking.’ She was on firmer ground, testing how much she could say. ‘They had him arrested for the murders, didn’t you know? Apparently he even admitted to a couple, then he got scared and killed himself — cut his wrists on his glasses.’
Janklow looked at her with his pale, expressionless eyes. Lorraine held his gaze. ‘You shouldn’t have hurt Didi, though. She was a friend of mine. I know she was into the blackmail with Art, but he forced her to do it.’
Janklow looked up at his brother. ‘There’s nothing left, Brad. I’ve got no money — I can’t pay her.’
‘What about your mother? She’s sitting on a load, isn’t she? How would you think she’d feel if I paid her a visit? It’s all the same to me. Look, I don’t want to walk away empty-handed. If Art and Didi cleaned you out, then why not—’
‘You don’t go anywhere near my mother.’ Janklow’s temper surfaced.
‘Then I’ll just walk out of here. But I warned your brother — you ask him — I’m not gonna let you off. I’ll sell my story to the papers and then she’ll wish she could get up and run because they won’t leave her alone. They’ll dig up every inch of dirt on her, on this family—’
Janklow shoved Brad away and dived at Lorraine, but again Brad caught him before he laid a finger on her. He pushed him up against the wall. ‘Tell me the truth, Steven. Was it you who attacked her?’
He screamed and tried to wriggle out of Brad’s grasp, but Brad thumped him in the stomach so hard he buckled over. Then he yanked his brother up against the wall by his hair. ‘You’d better tell me, Steven, because if what she says is true, then we’ve got to pay her off.’
She pressed her back against the wall. ‘He attacked me and he murdered the others. He did it, Brad! Ask him.
Go on, ask him
!’
‘
Yes! Yes! Yes!
’ screamed Janklow.
Brad released his hold but was still too close for his brother, who was gasping for breath, to try anything on her. Brad looked at Lorraine, then at Janklow. ‘Okay, we’ll pay. I’ll pay you whatever you want.’
Janklow pulled at Brad’s arm. ‘You fool, you pay her and she’ll be back like that other bitch. They’ll never leave you alone. You let her walk out of here and she’ll be on your back like a leech. She’s a leech, a blood-sucker.’
‘What you gonna do, Steven? Kill me like the others?’
Lorraine spat it out and Janklow tried again to reach her. Again Brad dragged him back, shoving him against the wall. He was frothing at the mouth with impotent fury, but Brad was too strong for him to escape. ‘They deserved it! And even if he’s stupid enough to pay you off, I’ll find you, wherever you are, no matter how long it takes.’
She pointed at Janklow and then back at Brad. ‘You did hear that, didn’t you? You’re gettin’ off real light. He’s killed eight women and all I’m doing is asking for a million dollars. I could push for a lot more.’
Brad looked first at her then Janklow as the implication sank in. His face was drained. He hauled his brother slowly to his feet, and stared into his twisted face. Janklow was near to weeping. ‘Is this true, Steven?’ Brad shook him so hard his head cracked against the wall. ‘
Is it true?
’ He gripped his brother’s face in his hands. ‘
Is it true?
’
Deflated, Janklow lifted his hands up like a child to his mother. He was half pleading with Brad to hold him. He started crying, his wet lips hung open as he blubbered and began slowly to slide down the wall. ‘I’m taking him upstairs to his room. You stay down here.’
Lorraine watched as Brad half carried his brother upstairs. There was no fight or anger left in him: he was crying more loudly — she could hear him — he sounded like a little boy. ‘Brad,’ she said flatly. Half-way up the stairs, he stopped. ‘You’d better stay with him. Will you put the gun down that you took from him?’
They both looked towards her, as different as Dilly Fellows had said, like chalk and cheese. Brad took the gun out of his pocket and for a split second she thought he was going to fire it straight into her head, but she said calmly, matter-of-fact, ‘I’m wired up, Brad. Every word we’ve said has been recorded. Just put down the gun.’
He let it drop and half carried, half lifted Janklow into his room. As the door closed she went to the intercom in the hallway and said they should come in and that he was in the top right-hand front bedroom. She pressed open the gates and went to wait on the porch. The truck was now pulling up outside. Rooney was first out and gave her the thumbs-up. Next out was Bickerstaff. Lorraine had turned away to look over the beautiful gardens, the flowers, the swimming pool, the tennis courts. It was so perfect, so incongruously peaceful. The sound of squad cars arriving cut through the silence. Lorraine joined Rooney. She removed the wire from her neck and asked if she could go home. She was told by Bickerstaff that she must return to the station.
Brad Thorburn was led out between two uniformed police officers followed by Steven Janklow handcuffed between another two. Janklow began to sob out a wretched, sickening confession inside the vehicle, and two hours after he was arrested, admitted to six murders, but seemed vague about Holly and Didi, and one of the as yet unidentified victims. The other two remained unidentified because Janklow didn’t know their names but agreed when shown the photographs that he had killed them. He said one was called Ellen and the other something like Susanna but he hadn’t known their surnames.
Lorraine did not get home until late that night. Rosie was waiting expectantly to hear all that had happened. She gave her friend a bear hug and was disappointed when Lorraine didn’t want to go out for a celebration dinner.
‘But it’s all over, isn’t it?’
Lorraine sighed, exhausted. ‘Yes, I guess it is, but I don’t feel like celebrating.’
The next few days were long and drawn out. She was asked to be on call should they require her at the station. Something nagged at her but she couldn’t pin it down. In the end she put it down to the possibility that she still might be used as a prosecution witness.
The good news came at the beginning of the following week. Janklow would plead guilty — which meant Lorraine would not have to take the stand — to five counts of murder.
A month after his brother’s arrest, Brad Thorburn left Los Angeles to escape media attention, but remained in touch with his brother via their lawyer. Lorraine followed the progress of the case through Rooney, or by dropping into the station. Money was tight, and Rosie kept up her daily check of want ads, but their financial situation put paid to the prospect of starting up their own agency.
Rooney was the one to tell Lorraine that her theory had been wrong although so had everyone else’s. Further interviews with Steven Janklow elicited that he had been blackmailed by Art Mathews for much longer than they had thought — almost nine years — but he had only met Art once. Didi had made the calls and collected the money and the jewellery. Janklow had always liked Didi, he said, because she fixed his wigs and make-up. The other women had been murdered because they were like his father’s whores, dirty hookers he had brought home to flaunt in front of Janklow’s beloved mother. There was no blackmail link to the dead women, only Didi. Norman Hastings had been killed because, as he was being blackmailed himself, he felt that he and Janklow could help each other out — even go to the police to press charges. Janklow had not wanted anyone to know about his private life; he was disgusted that a fat middle-aged man like Norman Hastings could ever think that they were alike, so he killed him. When pressed for further details on the murder of Angela ‘Holly’ Hollow and David ‘Didi’ Burrows he said that he couldn’t remember and he supposed he must have killed them.
Janklow also admitted attacking Lorraine, again saying that she was just like his father’s whores and he had been right to attack her as she was now his brother’s whore. His obsessive love for his mother had so twisted him that half the time he believed that he was her, and when he eventually admitted everything he had done, did not hold it against her that she had not come to see him.
To his surprise Rooney was called in to see his chief and given a big bonus; a whip-round from all the officers had paid for a gold travel clock and leather case. He hated the thought of retirement but his part in tracking down Janklow had made good press coverage, and he grudgingly thanked Lorraine but then said that if the truth be known she should thank him.