jungle.
The trial didn’t start until Kimberlain’s two-month stay in the hospital had ended. He emerged still in a neck collar, part of a kidney ruined, with a staple in his shoulder and a pin in his wrist. All told there had been four operations, with another two in the offing. The Ferryman took the stand and eyed Winston Peet the whole time he spoke; Peet was chained and under armed guard even in the closed courtroom.
Kimberlain testified as an expert witness that Peet was the most malevolent criminal he had ever encountered, his capacity for violence exceeded only by his willingness to commit it. His testimony mesmerized the court but did nothing to sway the judge. The judgment of the court was that Winston Peet was totally incapable of distinguishing between right and wrong, and he was sentenced to The Locks until such time as he was deemed fit to stand trial again or reenter society a cured man. One day Winston Peet could conceivably be released, and the Ferryman knew the killing would start again. But they would never catch Peet again because he wouldn’t let himself be caught as he had before, and it would be Kimberlain’s fault because he hadn’t shot him.
And now, three years later, he found himself facing the monster again from six feet away.
“I’ve been expecting you, Ferryman,” Peet said. “You’ve come about the murders.”
Chapter 6
“I KNEW THE LETTERS would draw you here,” Peet said. “I knew you couldn’t turn your back.”
Kimberlain wondered how David Kamanski might have accepted the news that he had actually done his research into Turan and Rand after Peet’s letters had called attention to their killings. The giant had sensed something in the murders before anyone else. Perhaps Peet was sensitive to the trail of another so much like himself. Or perhaps he was jealous and desperately wanted the perpetrator to be found. Why else would he have contacted Kimberlain?
“There’s been another murder,” the Ferryman said.
“I know. Jordan Lime. The details were sketchy.”
“A step beyond the others. I want to know what you think about this. I want you to tell me where you think I should look.”
“What’s the weather like outside?” Peet asked suddenly.
“Cold and snowing.”
“First snow of the season?”
“Maybe.”
“Rebirth, Ferryman. Virgin white coating a land in need of renewal.”
Peet rose to his feet. He was naked to the waist and wore khaki pants that barely touched his sandaled feet. His huge muscles rippled with every breath, fleshy bands pulsing even through his neck. Kimberlain couldn’t help but gawk. Memory didn’t do the monster justice.
“I believe that men lie in wait of similar renewal, Ferryman.”
“Dr. Vogelhut seems to think you’re well on your way to yours.”
“He is easily fooled.”
“And is that what you’re doing to him?”
“Only in letting him believe his therapy is to blame for my renewal.” There was a pause in which Peet eyed Kimberlain with naked intensity. “It was you, Ferryman, back there in that town. That was where my rebirth started.” He looked over at the huge stack of coverless philosophy books against the back wall. “My friend Nietzsche wrote that a man has much to learn from his enemies. You didn’t kill me in Kansas. I found that interesting.”
“We all make mistakes.”
“I won’t praise you for your compassion, since I know that had nothing to do with it. The trophy was more meaningful when brought in alive. Killing me would have reduced the pleasure of your victory, so you spared my life. It was then that I realized we were the same, you and I.”
“Your wounds must have made you delirious.”
“Denials are pointless. Your soul is no stranger to me. But still I found the fact that you spared my life upsetting. New thoughts were spurred. I began to see that fate had spared me for a reason.”
Peet held his eyes closed as if meditating, and Kimberlain used the time to gaze around his
The trial didn’t start until Kimberlain’s two-month stay in the hospital had ended. He emerged still in a neck collar, part of a kidney ruined, with a staple in his shoulder and a pin in his wrist. All told there had been four operations, with another two in the offing. The Ferryman took the stand and eyed Winston Peet the whole time he spoke; Peet was chained and under armed guard even in the closed courtroom.
Kimberlain testified as an expert witness that Peet was the most malevolent criminal he had ever encountered, his capacity for violence exceeded only by his willingness to commit it. His testimony mesmerized the court but did nothing to sway the judge. The judgment of the court was that Winston Peet was totally incapable of distinguishing between right and wrong, and he was sentenced to The Locks until such time as he was deemed fit to stand trial again or reenter society a cured man. One day Winston Peet could conceivably be released, and the Ferryman knew the killing would start again. But they would never catch Peet again because he wouldn’t let himself be caught as he had before, and it would be Kimberlain’s fault because he hadn’t shot him.
And now, three years later, he found himself facing the monster again from six feet away.
“I’ve been expecting you, Ferryman,” Peet said. “You’ve come about the murders.”
Chapter 6
“I KNEW THE LETTERS would draw you here,” Peet said. “I knew you couldn’t turn your back.”
Kimberlain wondered how David Kamanski might have accepted the news that he had actually done his research into Turan and Rand after Peet’s letters had called attention to their killings. The giant had sensed something in the murders before anyone else. Perhaps Peet was sensitive to the trail of another so much like himself. Or perhaps he was jealous and desperately wanted the perpetrator to be found. Why else would he have contacted Kimberlain?
“There’s been another murder,” the Ferryman said.
“I know. Jordan Lime. The details were sketchy.”
“A step beyond the others. I want to know what you think about this. I want you to tell me where you think I should look.”
“What’s the weather like outside?” Peet asked suddenly.
“Cold and snowing.”
“First snow of the season?”
“Maybe.”
“Rebirth, Ferryman. Virgin white coating a land in need of renewal.”
Peet rose to his feet. He was naked to the waist and wore khaki pants that barely touched his sandaled feet. His huge muscles rippled with every breath, fleshy bands pulsing even through his neck. Kimberlain couldn’t help but gawk. Memory didn’t do the monster justice.
“I believe that men lie in wait of similar renewal, Ferryman.”
“Dr. Vogelhut seems to think you’re well on your way to yours.”
“He is easily fooled.”
“And is that what you’re doing to him?”
“Only in letting him believe his therapy is to blame for my renewal.” There was a pause in which Peet eyed Kimberlain with naked intensity. “It was you, Ferryman, back there in that town. That was where my rebirth started.” He looked over at the huge stack of coverless philosophy books against the back wall. “My friend Nietzsche wrote that a man has much to learn from his enemies. You didn’t kill me in Kansas. I found that interesting.”
“We all make mistakes.”
“I won’t praise you for your compassion, since I know that had nothing to do with it. The trophy was more meaningful when brought in alive. Killing me would have reduced the pleasure of your victory, so you spared my life. It was then that I realized we were the same, you and I.”
“Your wounds must have made you delirious.”
“Denials are pointless. Your soul is no stranger to me. But still I found the fact that you spared my life upsetting. New thoughts were spurred. I began to see that fate had spared me for a reason.”
Peet held his eyes closed as if meditating, and Kimberlain used the time to gaze around his
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