By Reason of Insanity by Shane Stevens Page B

“And what’s number two, Jim?”
    “Number two is I don’t think it’s just a theory. I think that’s what happened. And when we catch Mungo you’ll see it.”
    Spanner turned his attention to Baylor. “I don’t suppose Mungo ever had his prints taken either, being he was a regular mental patient.”
    Baylor frowned. “No, I don’t think there would have been any reason.”
    “I see.” He pointed to several objects on the desk. “Are those the things from the body? I should take them along with me.”
    Oates was satisfied. “If we’re finished here I want pictures and a full description on Mungo. I’ll get it statewide by tonight.”
    “Doctor Lang will be glad to get those for you,” Baylor said pleasantly. He started to get up. “If I can be of any further service …” He let the sentence trail.
    Spanner remained seated. “There are a couple of points that bother me a little, Doctor.” He reached for something on the desk. “If you don’t mind a moment more.”
    “Not at all.” Baylor sat down again, vastly annoyed.
    “This wallet, for instance. Mungo kills him and takes the watch and the ring however he can. Then he quickly searches the body. The harmonica is junk, he doesn’t take it. Same with the comb. But why didn’t he take the wallet?”
    “There was nothing in it, Lieutenant.”
    “We don’t know that. But the point is, he already had it out to check. Why take the time in the pouring rain to return the wallet to the body? Unless—”
    “Yes?”
    “Unless the killer wanted us to find the wallet.” Spanner opened it. “Whose picture is this?”
    “I believe that’s Bishop’s mother,” said Lang.
    “He kills his mother and then carries her picture around for fifteen years. Wouldn’t you call that a little strange?”
    “Most of the people here are, as you say, a little strange, Lieutenant.” Baylor, smiling, looked at his watch.
    “Another thing is the murder weapon. Where would he get an axe or a cleaver?”
    “We’re checking the entire staff of course, but I don’t mind telling you that I’m equally mystified.”
    “And why take it with him? Why not just leave it?”
    “Maybe he needed it for his work,” Oates suggested sarcastically.
    Spanner ignored him. “But what bothers me most is the attack itself, the insane fury it took to destroy a face like that. Why?”
    Baylor smiled indulgently. “I think you answered your own question, Lieutenant. You used the word ‘insane.’ Some of these poor devils, when they work themselves into a rage there’s no telling what they’re capable of. The face is often the focal point of their rage. It’s the face that lies to them, deceives them, laughs at them.”
    “Maybe,” Spanner said, unconvinced. “Maybe so.”
    Oates stood up. “I have a question for you.” He looked at Baylor. “What about Mungo? Will he kill again before we can get to him?”
    The director frowned as he too rose from his chair. “I wish I could answer that,” he said quietly. “Disturbed people are like children— they’re unpredictable. I will say only that once an animal has smelled blood …” He spread out his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
    “Any suggestions on where we might look for him?”
    Dr. Baylor thought for a moment. “Not really. I should imagine by now he’s trying to get as far away as he can.”
    “With his face plastered all over, he won’t get very far.”
    Spanner was not so sure. “I got a feeling we might be hearing from him again.”
    Baylor nodded. “Homicidal maniacs, as the press likes to call them, are often very clever people. I shouldn’t forget that if I were you.”
    He opened the door to the outer office and held it for them as they passed through. The woman stopped her typing and watched. For the first time in three hours Baylor felt a sense of relief. “I’m told Bishop had no relatives, so we will bury the body. After the autopsy of course. Is that suitable to you, Lieutenant? Good.