“Hutchinson’s teeth, mulberry molars, optic nerve atrophy,” said Sylvia as she stared at the young man’s photo. “Yet how did Remmy contract syphilis?”
“From her husband. He was contagious either when he impregnated Remmy with the twins or had intercourse with her during the first or second trimester of that pregnancy.”
“And syphilis can cross the placenta,” said Sylvia in a hushed tone.
“Exactly. Bobby Jr. eventually became brain-damaged and suffered the other effects because it wasn’t treated. He later died from cancer, but I’m sure the syphilis had severely weakened his body.”
“But why wasn’t it treated?” asked Sylvia.
“I’ve had a very awkward conversation with Remmy about that. She said that when her son started exhibiting strange symptoms, Bobby refused to take the boy to the doctor. He wouldn’t even acknowledge he was ill. He probably wouldn’t even admit to himself he had syphilis, because apparently he never went for treatment either. Anyway, by the time Remmy sought medical help, it was too late. The disease had done irreversible damage. Remember, this was over thirty years ago, and the level of medical knowledge wasn’t nearly as far along as it is today. She’s lived with that guilt for years.”
“It’s hard to believe a woman like Remmy wouldn’t have taken her son to a doctor immediately,” said Michelle.
“
That’s exactly what I was thinking,” said Sylvia.
“I think there’s a lot we don’t know about Remmy and her relationship with her husband,” said King. “A woman who talks with adoration and pride about her husband but doesn’t wear her wedding ring and doesn’t care if she gets it back? Those are some deep waters we’ll never plumb entirely.”
“But they had Savannah years later and she’s okay,” pointed out Bailey.
“Bobby was no longer contagious by then, and Remmy had received treatment for syphilis years before.” King put the photos away and continued. “Now, historically, one major way the disease is spread is through sexual intercourse with prostitutes. As we know, Bobby had the reputation of consorting with such women. He contracted the disease from a prostitute and passed it to Remmy, who unwittingly passed it to Bobby Jr. He and Eddie weren’t identical twins, but fraternal, so they didn’t share the same amniotic fluid. That’s probably why Eddie wasn’t infected.”
“And Eddie found out about this?” asked Bailey.
“Yes, although how I’m not sure. But I think he’s been harboring this knowledge for a long time. A powder keg waiting to blow. I think Eddie too felt enormous guilt. He knew it was only by luck that he escaped that same fate. From all accounts he loved his brother very much.”
“So Rhonda Tyler was—,” began Williams.
“Eddie’s way of symbolically punishing the prostitute who’d infected his father all those years ago and thus doomed his brother. Tyler had the great misfortune to come across Eddie at some point.”
“The unusual wrinkling on Bobby’s aorta and the brain lesions,” said Sylvia. “All that points to syphilis,” she said in a very chagrined tone, putting a hand over her eyes.
“You weren’t really looking for it, Sylvia,” said King kindly. “And those things could be caused by other diseases as well.”
Michelle picked up the explanation. “Steve Canney had to die because his mother had an affair with Bobby that produced Steve. His mother was dead, so Steve had to be sacrificed in her place.”
“Eddie is devoted to Remmy,” said King. “I’m sure he saw the bastard child as a direct slap against her. Janice Pembroke was simply in the wrong place, wrong time.”
“One tick off,” said Bailey.
“Right. Same with Diane Hinson. One tick off, to cover his tracks and to further break the connection between the victims.”
“And Junior Deaver?”
“Eddie thought he’d stolen from his mother. That was enough. When he found out he’d been wrong, he took it out on Sally. You can see his sense of fair play and justice, however twisted. The mud prints in their foyer should have told me it was him. Savannah said she never moved away from the doorway, but there were muddy prints all over. They were from Eddie’s boots, not Savannah’s. He was cutting it tight. He had no idea when Dorothea would come out of the drug’s effects, and he had to take the morphine too. He probably didn’t even notice the mud. As we could tell from the beating he gave Sally, he was slightly crazed.”
“Slightly!” exclaimed Williams.
“And then he set up Harold Robinson to take the fall. Why he picked him I don’t know.”
“Wait a minute. The man the little boy saw was Eddie?” asked Michelle.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t Eddie just kill him too?”
“He might have thought if the boy believed it was his dad, it would help to seal Robinson’s fate further. That actually happened. Or maybe despite all he’s done, he couldn’t bring himself to kill a child. As I said, Eddie is a very complex man.”