CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Paige had never been to an execution before, and she’d never had any desire to witness one. Her instinct, even when it came to killers, was to try to contain and understand them, not to kill them out of some need for vengeance. It was why she hadn’t been able to pull the trigger when she’d had Adam helpless in front of her.
But now, it seemed, she and Christopher had to attend an execution.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked as the two of them arrived at the prison, walking through the small crowd of death penalty protesters who stood outside. Even with a man like Ingram, there were people who didn’t like the idea of him being killed.
“We need to be here,” Paige said.
“You came away last time convinced that Ingram was just playing games with you.”
Paige nodded. “I know, but he also threw out the request for me to be at his execution as a kind of challenge. If I meet that challenge, if I actually show up, he might be impressed enough to tell us something.”
“There’s always a chance that he doesn’t know anything,” Christopher pointed out. “I mean, how many serial killers actually know their copycats?”
Paige could see that he had a point there, but in this case, she thought it was an increasingly likely possibility. “This isn’t just a copycat; this is someone who has been killing almost as long. He’s more like a partner, or a rival. It’s entirely possible that the two made contact at some point, if not while Ingram was killing, then once he was in jail.”
“We went through the call records, remember?” Christopher pointed out.
Paige nodded. “True, but I still think it’s possible. At the very least, Ingram can tell us which kills are his, and which aren’t. A final chance to set the record straight.”
That was the part Paige suspected that he might jump at. She had no illusions now about any part of Lars Ingram wanting to do the right thing, or even hating his rival enough to give him up, but she suspected that his ego might be big enough to make him want to be clear about exactly what he had and hadn’t done. That would make it possible to go through all the crimes that were definitely the copycat killer’s, trying to find some common thread that would lead to him.
The two of them went into the prison, and at the reception desk, Christopher held up his ID. “We’re here for Lars Ingram’s execution.”
“Take a seat, and a guard will lead you through,” the receptionist said.
They sat there waiting, and Paige could feel her nerves building, partly because of the importance of trying to get something out of Ingram, but mostly because of what they were there to see.
A guard came to show them through to the prison’s death row. The prison seemed quieter now than it had been, as if the whole place were holding its breath in expectation of what was to come. The guard took them through to a large viewing room, divided by a glass screen from the space in which the execution was to take place.
That execution chamber held a gurney waiting for Ingram to be strapped to it, along with a doctor who was presumably there to ensure that the lethal injection was set up correctly, and to certify death afterwards.
On their side of the glass, there were a few people there already, waiting in seats that made the whole space seem like some kind of particularly sober theater. Paige guessed that they were people with a connection to Lars Ingram’s victims, or official observers there to make sure that everything proceeded smoothly. She saw a priest there among them, and a couple in late middle age who might have been the parents of one of Ingram’s victims.
As Paige watched, two prison guards marched Ingram into the execution chamber. One was the young woman who had escorted them on their first visit, the other an older man Paige didn’t know.
As he was marched in, Christopher stepped up to the glass, catching the attention of the guards. There was an intercom there; Paige guessed it was so that any last words by the prisoner or their loved ones could be heard. Christopher used it now.
“This is Agent Marriott with the FBI. We need one moment to speak with your prisoner.”
“That’s pretty irregular, Agent,” the male guard said.
“Lives are at stake,” Christopher replied.
Paige was already moving to the intercom. “Lars? I came, just like you asked. Now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the deal.”
Ingram looked over at her. He didn’t look frightened, even now, but he did look resigned, as if he had come to terms with everything that was about to happen to him. The look he gave Paige wasn’t friendly.
“So you came,” he said. “Come to make sure that I’m dead?”
“You know why I’m here,” Paige said. “I want the information you promised me on the man who has been copying you.”
Lars laughed then. “You want something from me? Here? Now? What are you going to do to me if I don’t tell you? Kill me?”
He laughed again, the only person in the room who seemed to find any of it funny. In that moment, Paige really could see the madness in him. This was a psychopath who didn’t fear death, didn’t seem to even care about what was about to happen to him.
“You don’t have anything to offer me,” he said, when he was done laughing. “I told you at the start of this that I wasn’t going to give you information if you didn’t have anything to give me in return.”