Detective Roger Waters sat on the railing, back to Daniel, feet dangling off the far side.
Daniel took a deep breath. He’d hated having to lie to Laney, but she would never have understood the truth. Never have understood that he had to turn himself in. How could she? No one who hadn’t gone through it would.
Killing Bennett he could live with. Bennett was a monster. But the man in the river basin. That had just been some guy Bennett twisted. The same way he’d twisted the two of them. He’d been a victim.
Which made Daniel the monster.
You are who you choose to be. Be sure you can live with the decisions you make. Daniel squared his shoulders. He said, “I don’t think you’re supposed to sit on the ledge like that.”
“Benefits of the badge.” Waters didn’t turn. “You get to break a few rules.” He patted the concrete beside him. “Have a seat.”
“I’ll stand.” He took a breath. “Listen—”
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The man stared out into the distance. “People say Los Angeles is fake, but that’s not true. It’s just that it’s got no memory. Am I right?”
“I.” What was this? “I guess. There’s something—”
“Reason I asked you out here, I wanted to tell you a story.” The man bulldozed him. “About a guy named Larry Morgan. Larry was born in Reseda, but this story doesn’t start till he was nineteen, when he started selling coke. He wasn’t very good at it. LAPD busted him, he went up for five years. Inside he joined the Brotherhood—you know the Aryan Brotherhood?—probably mostly to stay alive.”
Daniel leaned against the railing. Was this some sort of scare tactic, hit him with tough-guy talk about prison? “This is gritty and all, Detective, but I have something I need to—”
“Somewhere along the line, Larry decided the Brotherhood made good arguments. So when he got out of prison, he decided to align his business and racial philosophies. Went back to dealing, but instead of cocaine, he moved to crack. That way he was selling mostly to blacks. He used kids, all under sixteen. You know why?”
“Prosecuting them is harder?” The writer in Daniel unable to resist.
“That was part of it. Other thing is, kids can sell in schoolyards. Which let Larry expand his interests. See, he’d give the prettier girls credit for a while. But when the bill came due and they couldn’t pay, he’d turn them out. Get them tricking for him.” Waters looked over. “I’m talking little girls, eleven, twelve.”
Daniel swallowed. “Sounds like an asshole.”
“He was.”
“Was?”
“Yes.” The cop looked away again. “Three weeks ago he was shot and killed under a bridge on the L.A. River.”
The city swam in front of him. Daniel was glad he’d chosen to stand. He fought to keep the reaction from his face, wasn’t sure he made it. “Really.”
“Yep. Three bullets, a nine-millimeter.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Waters brushed a speck of dirt off his trousers. “The law is a good thing. It’s what separates us from animals. But sometimes it’s a little strict.” He paused. “No one is going to miss Larry Morgan. The world is better with him not in it. But the law doesn’t care. If someone were to come forward and confess to killing him, that person would be tried for murder. They would lose everything. They would go to prison, which is not a happy place. And it wouldn’t matter that Larry was a piece of shit.”
Daniel stared at the horizon. A thousand thoughts came and went. None of them stuck.
“I saw you on TV the other day. Quite a story.” Waters paused. “Funny you didn’t mention it when we spoke on the phone.”
“You mean when you told me you’d found her body?” The retort came fast and angry.
Waters shrugged. “There’s no law that a detective has to tell a suspect the truth.”
“Convenient.”
“It is, yes.” Waters spun so his legs were above the walkway, then dropped off the ledge. He slapped dust off his pants. “Look. We’re not going to come after you. Your wife isn’t dead, and you’re a media darling. You’re a very lucky man. If I were you, I would count my blessings. And be careful not to mess up what I had. Understand me?”
Daniel stared. Did he? Could the detective actually be telling him . . .
“I’m going back to work. You and Laney do the same.” The cop started away, turned back. “Like I said. A place with no memory.”
Daniel watched him go. His mind tracing the conversation, filling in the gaps. The cop knew about the man he’d killed. And if Waters knew about that, then he probably knew about Bennett, too. Two homicides. But he was letting them go.
On the other hand, maybe he was fishing, hoping that Daniel would reveal the murders himself. Only, Daniel had decided to confess, and the cop hadn’t given him a chance.
You’re missing the point.
It wasn’t what Bennett did to you that made killing him something you could live with. It was what he did to Sophie. That was his unforgivable sin. That justified your actions. When he murdered Sophie, Bennett put himself beyond morality.
Before, in the river basin, you were the one who went beyond morality. You were the monster. At least, that’s what you believed, and why you were willing to turn yourself in. You thought you had committed an unforgivable sin, that you had murdered an innocent man.
But you were wrong. Larry Morgan was as evil as Bennett.
You’ve spent the last weeks trying to become the man you were before. Problem is, that man is dead. You murdered him on a beach in Maine. And what you had rebuilt of him died again when you killed Bennett.
But only so that you could be resurrected.
Who you are now is up to you.
He turned, pushed himself away from the wall. Walked fast to the parking lot. Behind him, the city sparkled in the midday sun. The sky was cloudless and open.
Laney leaned on the front panel of the BMW. Watching for him. He smiled, walked straight to her without breaking stride, put his arm around her waist, and pulled her close. Kissed her like a free man.
“What did he say?”
“He said . . .” Daniel paused. “That I was reborn.”
“Huh?”
“He said it’s over.”
“Really?” She gave him a quizzical look.
“All of it.” He laughed, stepped away, sighed. Shook out his arms. He wanted to jump up and down and holler like a child. He wanted to howl and to cry. But he wanted something even more. “Let’s go to bed.”