I wasn’t interested in being charmed by this man, but he was handsome and immediately in control. I could see what some women found attractive about him. He motioned us to the couch.
“We were hoping,” I said, “to ask you a few questions.”
“About the bride and groom killings…My assistant advised me. Crazy…terrible. But these acts, so incredibly desperate, cry out for at least a small measure of sympathy.”
“For the victims,” I said, placing his wedding photograph back on the table.
“Everyone always goes to the plight of the victims,” Jenks said. “But it’s what’s inside the killer’s head that puts cash in the account. Most people figure these acts are simply about revenge. The sickest kind of revenge… Or even subjugation, like most rapes. But I’m not so sure.”
“What’s your theory, Mr. Jenks?” Chris asked. He made it sound as if he were a fan.
Jenks held out a pitcher of iced tea. “Something to drink? I know it’s a hot one, though I’ve been holed up in the study since eight.”
We shook our heads. I took a manila folder out of my bag and placed it on my lap. I remembered Cheery’s admonition: “Keep it light. Jenks is a VIP. You’re not.”
Nicholas Jenks poured himself a tall glass of tea and went on. “From what I’ve read, these killings appear to be a form of rape, rape of innocence. The killer is acting in a way that no one can forgive. In the most sacred setting of our society. To me, these killings are the ultimate act of purification.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Jenks,” I said, ignoring his bullshit, “we didn’t come up here seeking your professional advice. I have some questions related to these killings we’d like to run by you.”
Jenks sat back in his chair. He looked surprised. “You make that sound awfully official.”
“That’s entirely up to you,” I said. I took out a portable cassette tape player from my bag. “You mind if I turn this on?”
He stared at me, his eyes shifting suspiciously, then he waved his hand as if it were of no concern.
“So where I’d like to start, Mr. Jenks, is, these killings…Do you have any specific knowledge of any of the crimes other than what you’ve read in the papers?”
“Knowledge?” Jenks took a breath, nominally reflecting. Then he shook his head. “No. None at all.”
“You read there was a third killing? Last week. In Cleveland.”
“I did see that. I read five or six papers every day.”
“And did you also read who the victims were?”
“From Seattle, weren’t they? One of them, I remember, was some kind of concert promoter.”
“The groom.” I nodded. “James Voskuhl. The bride actually lived for a while in town, here. Her maiden name was Kathy Kogut. Do either of those names mean anything to you?”
“No. Should they?”
“So you never met either of them? Any interest you had in this case was just like anyone’s… morbid curiosity?”
He fixed his eyes on me. “That’s right. Morbid curiosity’s my business.”
I opened my manila folder and took out the top photo. He was playing us, just as he had been playing us by leaving dead-ending clues along the way.
I slid the photo across the table. “This might sharpen your memory,” I said. “That’s Kathy Kogut, the bride who was murdered the other night. The man next to her, I believe, is you.”
Chapter 76
SLOWLY, RED BEARD PICKED UP THE photo and stared at it. “It is me,” he declared. “But the lady, though quite beautiful, I don’t recognize. If I can ask, where’s this picture from?”
“The San Francisco opening of Crossed Wire.”
“Ah,” he sighed, as if that classified something for him.
I watched the gears in his brain start to shift for the right response. He was definitely smart, and a pretty good actor.