Memory Man by David Baldacci Page B

good.”
    Decker gripped the edge of his chair and kept his eyes on Leopold. His wife had not been raped. That had been confirmed. But there had been something else.
    “So the light was on?” Decker asked.
    “What?”
    “You said you could see right through her nightie. I was assuming the light was on.”
    Leopold looked unsure. “No, I don’t think it was.”
    “Then what?”
    “I stood over her.”
    “While she was lying in the bed?”
    Leopold looked crossly at him. “Shit, man, can you let me tell it?”
    “Sorry, go ahead.”
    “I had my gun. I put it against her forehead and I shot her.”
    “What kind of gun?”
    Leopold answered right away. “Forty-five. Smith and Wesson.”
    “Where’d you get it?”
    “Stole it off some guy.”
    “Guy have a name?”
    Leopold just shrugged.
    “Keep going.”
    Overhead Decker could hear doors opening and feet trooping around. It seemed some of the cops were returning from the high school.
    “So I shot her. No, wait a minute. She did wake up, come to think. She sat up, she was starting to scream. That’s right. And I shot her. Then the bitch fell off the bed.”
    “Flat on the floor? Her whole body?”
    Leopold looked at him warily. “Maybe parta her got hung up. Foot or arm or something.”
    “What then?”
    This was the critical point. The one that had not made it into the papers. The wound to her head was not the only one Cassie had suffered. It had been discovered during the autopsy.
    She had not been raped. But the outside of her genitals had been mutilated.
    “Knew he had a daughter. I went down the hall to her room. She was sleeping.”
    “So you were done with the woman. Nothing else with her?”
    Leopold just stared up at him. “I told you what I done. I shot her. Dead!”
    “Okay.”
    “Then I went down the hall to the kid.”
    “Wait a minute, the shot didn’t wake the girl up?”
    Leopold looked puzzled again. “I, no, don’t think so. She was sleeping.”
    “Then what?”
    “I took her outta the bed.”
    “Why?”
    “I just did. Wasn’t thinking too clearly then. Took her to the bathroom.”
    “Again, why? Not thinking too clearly?”
    “That’s right. Maybe I had to take a leak and didn’t want her getting away.”
    “Did you take a leak?”
    “Don’t remember.”
    “And she didn’t scream when she saw you?”
    “No. She was scared, I guess. And…and I told her to be quiet.”
    “Then?”
    “Then I strangled her. Put my hands around her neck and just squeezed tight as—”
    Decker put up a hand for him to stop. He looked away for a moment, the most brilliant blue blinding him. The color was so bright he thought he might be sick. It was like he was suffocating in sapphire.
    “Hey, man, you okay?” asked Leopold with genuine concern on his face.
    Decker’s forehead was drenched in perspiration. He slowly wiped it off. “Okay, you killed her, then what?”
    Leopold looked unsure again.
    Decker said, “Did you do anything with the body? Do something with her clothing?”
    Leopold snapped his fingers. “That’s right,” he said, his face beaming like he’d just got the answer right in algebra class. “I sat her up on the toilet and I tied her, uh, whatchamacallit.”
    “Her robe belt?” prompted Decker.
    “Right, her robe belt around her and the toilet.”
    “Why?”
    Leopold just stared at him. “’Cause…’cause that’s what I thought to do at the time.”
    “How’d you get away?”
    “I went out the way I came in.”
    “Did you have a car?”
    “No, I told you I walked!”
    “Anybody see you?”
    “Not that I know of.”
    “What’d you do with the gun?”
    “Trash.”
    “Where?”
    “Don’t remember.”
    “The knife?”
    Leopold shrugged. “The same.”
    “You tell anybody what you did?” asked Decker.
    “Not till now.”
    “So why now?”
    Leopold shrugged again. “They gonna fry my ass?”
    “Lethal injection. Frying comes later.”
    “Huh?”
    “In hell.”
    “Oh, yeah.”