“I am rather fond of a drink. Every now and then.” The suspect’s eyes burned toward Ness’s. “You’ve known the comfort that comes from a bottle yourself on occasion, haven’t you?”

Ness’s forehead creased. “Are you joking? Me?”

“The self-righteous often have the most to hide.”

“Let’s get this conversation back on track. Why is your cousin supporting you?”

“I lost my position. And my license. You know that.”

“Why are you staying at the Sailors’ Home?”

“I believe the thinking was that the good woman running the place might be able to help me.”

“Was she?”

“No. Problem is, she wants to help me in a way that doesn’t interest me. She’s a very energetic woman for her age.”

“Why don’t you move?”

“A deal was brokered. I have to remain at the Home, at least for now. My dear cousin was able to avoid a great deal of trouble by telling the folks at the hospital that I had been institutionalized.”

“But Detective Merylo tells me you’re free to leave whenever you please.”

“Shhh!”

“And Mrs. McGovern says you sometimes disappear for days.”

“A man’s got to have some fun every now and then.”

“So what do you do when you’re having fun?”

“Haven’t you ever wanted to cut loose, Mr. Ness?”

“Funny you should use the word ‘cut.’ ”

“Nothing funny about it.”

Ness pushed himself out of his chair and began pacing, wringing his hands. “You were fired by the hospital administrative staff.”

“Busybodies.”

“What did you do?”

“Didn’t they tell you?”

“No. They said it was confidential. Involved doctor-patient confidences.”

“How deliciously unhelpful of them.”

Ness’s lips thinned. His face flushed. Merylo thought he was becoming visibly frustrated and angry. “Why do I get the impression you’re not taking this seriously?”

“Possibly because I’m not.”

“You should. Do you understand why you’re here?”

“Apparently you think I’m the Torso Murderer.”

“I have a lot of evidence that tells me you’re the Torso Murderer.”

“Then I guess it must be so.”

The room fell dead silent. Ness and Merylo exchanged an uncertain look.

Ness leaned in close. “Did you just confess?”

“All I did was agree with what you said. I’m sure you wouldn’t mislead me. If you say you have evidence, you must have evidence.”

“I do.”

“May I see it?”

“No.”

“Have I been charged?”

“Not yet.”

“If you have so much evidence, why haven’t I been charged?”

“That’s really none of your business.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“No.”

“Well now, this is perplexing. All this evidence against me, but you haven’t arrested me or even charged me. Does my cousin know I’m here?”

“No.”

“When he finds out, this party will end. You’ll be lucky to keep your job.”

“Is that a threat?”

“I’m just saying. Maybe the smartest thing would be to call him now. Offer to turn me over to his custody. Apologize for the inconvenience.”

“You really must be crazy.”

“How will you explain keeping me prisoner when you’re not prepared to proffer charges?”

“I like to take things slow and careful.”

“Ah. Is it entirely legal to hold a man against his will for several days without charging him or arresting him?”

Ness did not reply. A phone rang. Chamberlin took the call. A few moments later, he turned on the tabletop radio, but kept it down low.

“This is all very strange,” the suspect continued. “Perhaps I should have gone to law school rather than medical school. I think I’d like to retain a lawyer.”

“You don’t need a lawyer. You need to tell me the truth.”

“I’m done talking to you. You’re no fun.”

Ness’s face tensed up so much Merylo thought he might explode. “Have you been sending me those postcards?”

Merylo’s lips parted. What?

“Why would I send you postcards? I haven’t been on vacation.”

“Did you?”

“Is sending postcards illegal?”

“Trying to interfere with an ongoing investigation is illegal. Threatening law enforcement personnel and their families is illegal.”

“Did any of those postcards actually threaten you?”

Ness’s eyes narrowed. “You did send them.”

“And even if I did, would that prove I was the Torso Killer?”

“Why did you send them to me?”

“You might as well ask why someone would kill and dismember ten people.”

“Okay, why?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“I know a doctor who thinks this has to do with a warped childhood. That you get some kind of… gratification out of killing.”

“How deliciously Freudian.”

“Is it true?”

“I doubt it. Haven’t the victims been of both sexes?”

“Yeah.”

“Was there any sign of sexual activity?”

“No.”

“Well then. It doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

“Then why did you kill those people?” Ness barked. “What did they do to you?”

“You always act as if being killed is some sort of punishment, even though you know those people were the lowest of the low. Did it ever occur to you that the killer might have been doing them a favor?”

“How would killing anyone be doing them a favor?”

“What did they have to live for?”

“No one deserves to die. Especially not the way you do it.”

“Some people are much too tied to the flesh.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Pimps. Prostitutes. Con artists. Flesh peddlers. No chance of advancement or maturity.”

“Is that why you’re so obsessed with Kingsbury Run?”

“Man is the most dangerous game. And these are the killing fields.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Many Eastern religions talk of achieving a higher plane. One must leave the flesh behind and become all spirit. Pure soul.”

“And killing them accomplishes that?”

“Many African tribes perform blood rituals. Ceremonies. Sacrificial rites. To help troubled souls ascend.”

“And the person performing the rite?”

For the first time, the suspect’s eyes widened. The tiniest flicker of light shone within. “He becomes a god.”

Ness didn’t know what to say to that.

The silence was shattered by Chamberlin’s voice. “Eliot?”

“Did you hear what he just-”

“I think you need to listen to this. On the radio.”

“Are you kidding? He just-”

“It’s Walter Winchell.”

Chamberlin turned up the volume on the radio. The announcer spoke with a clipped dramatic urgency.

“… the unsolved torso murders in Cleveland may result in the apprehension of someone connected to one of Cleveland’s most outstanding citizens. This is what I’ve heard from a source inside the police department whose name I promised to withhold. A medical man with great skill is allegedly responsible for the gruesome crimes in which all the murdered were dismembered. My source tells me that Cleveland’s famed safety director is currently interrogating the suspect in a secret hideaway far from the prying eyes of the city and its citizens. Attention, Cleveland, Ohio. This could mean that at any moment, a breakthrough…”

Ness turned to face his suspect.

He was smiling.

“That’s it then,” Sweeney said, with a voice both elated and eerily suggestive. “The party’s over. Now it’s time to pay the tab.”