illustration on the package and tasting like the cardboard. I ate about half and tossed the rest away.
I fell asleep in front of the television until I was awakened by the insistent ringing of the telephone.
I don’t know what kind of dream I was having but I remember being grateful at being jarred back to consciousness. I glanced at my watch. It was just a few minutes after one o’clock.
I presumed it would be some husband or wife in the midst of a domestic dispute. Reluctantly, I picked up the phone.
“Yes?”
“Charley, it’s Sue. Can I come over?”
“Are you in trouble?”
“No. Nothing like that. I just need to talk. I know it’s late.”
“Never too late to see you. Come on over.”
“I’m really sorry to be a nuisance.” Her voice had a sad, keening tone, the kind of sound she got after a few drinks.
“I can pick you up,” I said.
“No. I’m a block away, calling from a pay phone. I’ll be right there.”
I put on some coffee while I waited.
When she arrived, we kissed. I could smell the gin, but she wasn’t drunk. She held me in a long embrace before letting go. I thought I felt her tremble.
She took the coffee I poured and sat down. “I feel like a fool, Charley, barging in at this hour.”
“You’re not. Bad case, eh?”
“In a way yes, but in a way no.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She sipped the coffee and smiled weakly. “I suppose that’s apparent, isn’t it?”
“Tell me about it.”
“A little boy,” she said slowly. “There was identification on him. His name was Lee Higgins, a kid from Hub City. Eight years old. He didn’t come home from school. His parents had called the Hub City police and they had taken a report, but that sort of thing happens often—kids stay at friends’ and forget the time, so no one except the parents really got excited.”
“How was he killed?”
“Asphyxiation. The medical examiner thinks he may have been suffocated with a pillow. There were no marks or bruises. The blood work won’t be back until tomorrow, but the doctor thinks he may have been sedated. There was no sign of a struggle. Just a dead boy, a beautiful boy. He looked like a sleeping angel.”
“Raped?”
“Apparently not. There were no signs of sexual abuse. He was a small little boy. No anal penetration. Nothing to suggest oral contact, although it’s possible.”
“No murder is gentle, but this one sounds relatively shock free. How come it shook you up so?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, honestly. I think it was that he was so beautiful and so young. The parents, of course, were in shock, but they described him as a perfect little kid.”
“How did they find him? I would have thought the snow would have covered him up?”
“A motorist saw him on the side of the road. Whoever dumped him must have done so just minutes before. The motorist stopped and walked all around the body. Other people stopped to see what happened. Tire tracks, footprints, everything is pretty much screwed up, although we’ll get some.”
“There are a lot of crazies out there, Sue.”
She nodded. “This one especially.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The medical examiner says whoever murdered the boy washed the body and the clothes afterwards, then redressedthe dead child. He was wrapped in plastic wrap, the kind you buy at any grocery store.”
“I suppose the killer was counting on the snow to cover up what he had done.”
“Not really. The body was set out there on the roadside as if the killer wanted him found.”
“Well, don’t worry, Sue. The sick ones usually are the first caught.”
“Sometimes.” The word was just a whisper.
“You’ll get this guy, whoever he is.”
She stood up. “Hold me, Charley?”
“Sure.”
We ended up in bed, but not for sex. She fell asleep almost instantly, her arms wrapped tightly about me. Her breathing, at first troubled, became even.
It was the first time since I’d known her that a case had
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