“You mean a monster,” said Williams.
“Does Dorothea know?” asked Sylvia.
Bailey nodded. “I told her. Remmy and Savannah joined me in giving her the news. That’s one stricken family, let me tell you.”
“But why did Eddie impersonate famous serial killers?” asked Williams.
King inclined his head at Bailey. “I think that was directed at you, Chip.”
“Me?”
“It would make sense if he wanted to flaunt his superiority. Beat you at your own area of expertise.”
“But why? We were friends. I saved his life.”
“No, you blew his kidnapping scheme out of the water.”
Bailey came right out of his chair. “What?”
“I’m convinced he arranged his own kidnapping. He hired the man you killed. He wanted to punish his father for the death of his brother two years before, and the only way the twenty-year-old college student could think to do that was by smashing him in the wallet to the tune of five million dollars. I’m sure he was the one who was burning the money after you killed his partner. He didn’t want his father to get it back. But he ran out of time. He had to tie himself back up and play dumb when you got there. I told you he’d been harboring this hatred for his father a long time.”
“Unbelievable,” said Bailey as he slowly sat back down. “That’s unbelievable,” he said again. “And all these years he’s pretended everything was great and he was really hating my guts?”
“Eddie is a consummate actor and liar. And let’s put it this way: consider yourself very fortunate you weren’t found with a watch around your wrist.”
“Jesus!” the FBI agent said.
“But, Sean,” said Williams, “it’s been twenty years between the kidnapping and all these murders. What set Eddie off?”
“I believe it was his father’s stroke. Perhaps he felt Bobby would die before he could show him his version of justice. I don’t know that for sure, but the timing I think is beyond coincidence.”
“So what now?” asked Michelle.
Williams answered, “Eddie’s being arraigned tomorrow at the courthouse.”
“No doubt his trial will get a change of venue,” said King. “If it goes that far.”
“What, you mean insanity?” asked Williams. “No way. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.”
“In a way he was exorcising demons that have been with him most of his life,” said King. “I’m not excusing anything he did, and if he gets the death penalty, so be it. But if he hadn’t had Bobby Battle as his father, I don’t think any of this would have happened.”
They all looked at each other in silence.
“And there but for the grace of God go I,” said Sylvia in a very low voice.
CHAPTER
88
WHEN EDDIE BATTLE WAS
driven over to the courthouse the next morning in a special convoy provided by state police and uniformed FBI agents, the crowd of townspeople and media was so enormous the convoy couldn’t get through. Indeed, fueled by the national attention the story had received, seemingly everyone from a five-state area had come to watch. And there was an angry look to the throng.
“Shit,” bellowed Chief Williams as he stared out at the crowds from the lead van. “I was afraid of this. We’ve been getting death threats against Battle ever since the story broke about his capture.” He eyed the mobs in their way. “No telling if somebody out there has a gun either.” He scrutinized a group of tough-looking men standing beside pickup trucks with building materials in the beds.
“That’s probably a bunch of Junior’s good old boys, and they don’t look like they’re here to pat Eddie on the head.”
“Isn’t there an underground entrance to the courthouse?” said Bailey, who was in the rear seat behind Williams.