“So go find the few there are and talk to them.”

“Why? You think anyone is going to admit they killed eight or nine people just because I show up? No, talking will never do the job. I need to catch someone in the act. Someone capturing a victim, kidnapping. Or I need to follow them home and discover evidence of mass slayings.”

“All right. Do that.”

“As a cop? Not possible.”

The light slowly dawned in Ness’s eyes. “That’s why you’ve grown the beard. You want to go undercover.”

“Why not? Those people are much more likely to talk to a fellow bum than a cop. Plus, made out like a vagrant, I might attract the killer’s attention.”

“Don’t undercover operations have to be approved by Chief Matowitz?”

Merylo nodded. “He told me to ask you.”

“It’ll be dangerous.”

“What isn’t, on this job?”

“I couldn’t bear the publicity if you were-”

“I’ll take my gun. I can hide a thirty-eight under my tramp costume. No one will ever know.”

“I don’t want you to get killed.”

“I know how to take care of myself.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you want this creep caught or not?”

“You know I do.”

“You said you wanted me to do anything that might help. I’m a lot more likely to figure out who this guy is if I can blend in with the vagrants and bums and everyone else living out near Kingsbury.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Ness, let me do this. I’ll find this guy.”

“Sure. And while you’re at it, why don’t you locate Judge Crater and Amelia Earhart?”

“Come on. You chewed me out because I haven’t caught the killer. Let me go find him.”

Ness thought for a long time. Merylo wondered if he was really considering turning down the request, or just wanted to make a show of deliberation.

“All right, I’ll authorize it. But only for a few days. Then you report in and tell me what you’ve got.”

Merylo stretched out his hand. “Thank you. You won’t regret this.”

Ness took the hand but gave him a stern look. “Take care of yourself. I don’t need any more bad publicity.”

“Aw, the press hates me.”

“Doesn’t matter. If you get killed you’ll become a martyr. I can see the headlines now: COP KILLED ON NESS’S UNTOUCHABLE GOOSE CHASE.”

Merylo grinned. “That won’t happen.”

“Good. Bring me home that killer.”

Merylo gave him a tiny salute. “Yes, sir.”

After Merylo left, Chamberlin took the chair in the center of the office. He and Ness spoke in hushed tones.

“Think I did the right thing?” Ness asked.

Chamberlin shrugged. “Who knows? At least now you’ll have something to tell Burton when he makes his daily ranting phone call to check on the progress of the case.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“And when it’s over, you can tell the press about it. It’s got just enough dash and romance to turn a favorable article or two. COP WALKS

AMONG THE DOWNTRODDEN.”

“That thought occurred to me also.”

“And you need to be doing something you can… discuss with other people.”

Ness raised an eyebrow. How much did Chamberlin know about the Unknowns? They worked closely together, but Ness had always kept that operation from him, or tried, anyway. Just in case there was trouble, he wanted Chamberlin to be clean. Not that the Unknowns had produced any more leads than anyone else so far. Despite the thousands of dollars Cleveland ’s businessmen had poured into the operation, so far they had produced no killer. Not even a promising lead.

“Think Merylo will find the Butcher?”

Chamberlin thought a moment before answering. “Honestly? At this point, I’m not sure I believe he’ll ever be caught. If there’s a way to do it, we don’t seem to know what it is. It won’t be by conventional police means, that much is certain. The important thing, from a political standpoint, is that you appear to be doing something, pushing forward. It’s the politics of motion. Not results.”

“I want this blemish off my record, Bob.”

“I know you do, but-”

“Once this is out of the way, I can get back to what I was brought here to do. There’s still a lot more work to be done with those labor racketeers. And I hear there’s a new bunch of rumrunners gathering around the Cuyahoga, looking for a way into the city.”

“I know that, but-”

“You think the Great Lakes Exposition was big news? I think there’s a chance I can get the national Boy Scout Jamboree here next year. Wouldn’t that be something to see? The best boys from all across the nation, right here in Cleveland.”

“That would be swell, sir, but respectfully-”

He was interrupted by the pounding on the door. Without even waiting for a response, Ness ’s receptionist rushed in. Chamberlin couldn’t think of a time when she hadn’t waited-sometimes a good long while-for Ness to tell her to enter.

“Mr. Ness, there’s a message for you.” Her face was stricken, pale.

Ness and Chamberlin exchanged a glance. It was obvious what they were both thinking. “Not another one,” Ness groaned.

She blinked. “Another-? Oh, another victim? No.”

“Thank goodness. Then what is it?”

She walked the message she was holding over to his desk. “It’s from the county sheriff. The one who replaced Potts.”

“O’Donnell? What does he want?”

“He says-” She swallowed hard, then started again. “He says he’s caught the Torso Killer.”

Both Ness and Chamberlin rose to their feet. “What?”

“That’s what he says.”

A thousand conflicting emotions raced through Ness’s brain- hope, relief… and something else, as well. “How can he know? How can he be sure? He’s probably just picked up some bum, hoping to get a little publicity and-”

“According to the sheriff,” she said, handing Ness the message, “the man they’ve captured has confessed.”

41

By the time Ness and Chamberlin arrived at the county sheriffs office, the press conference was already under way.

“… and so my men began looking for links between the victims- the three that the Cleveland police have managed to identify, at least tentatively-looking for someone who might have known them and might have had some reason to kill them. This was no easy chore, but perseverance and hard work always pay off in the end, and this case…”

Ness made his way forward, trying to get close enough to see what was going on without attracting the attention of the reporters. He did not want to appear to be basking in reflected glory; in fact, in this instance, he’d just as soon not be noticed at all.

The county sheriff, Martin O’Donnell, stood behind the podium reading his report in a deep gruff voice. The fact that he mispronounced several words suggested to Ness that he’d gotten someone else to write it. He was a middleweight man in a beige uniform that almost blended into the podium, but his shock of white hair glimmered in the noonday sun like a halo.

Just behind him, six of the sheriffs men flanked a seated man who clearly was not a member of the sheriffs department. He looked dirty and tired. His hair was greasy and he sagged forward in the chair, almost limp. He hadn’t shaved for days. Ness noticed that his shirt was torn and soaked with sweat. Perhaps even more telling, he was clutching the right side of his rib cage.

But the most noticeable attribute of the man was his stare-straight ahead, penetrating, but at the same time, strangely vacant. He reminded Ness of a hypnotist he had once seen on vaudeville. As creepy as his expression was, it was difficult to look away.

“… and so I sent my men to a bar at the corner of East Twentieth and Central frequented by all three of the identified victims, as well as a horde of other prostitutes and pimps and petty criminals. One of my agents learned of a person named Frank who supposedly knew all three. In fact, he once lived with Florence Polillo. Expert investigative work soon led him to the man we now have in custody-Frank Dolezal.”