answered the question without looking at me. She raised a thin hand and stroked Flynn’s cheek. The hand showed her age even if the face did not. How old? Sixty? Seventy? Surely not.
“I tried to save him,” she said. “My beautiful boy. My Michael. I tried to give him the greatest gift. To be with his father.” Her mouth turned down and anger filled her voice. “But that woman came and took my little angel away.” She held out her arm. Small arc-shaped scars decorated her skin from wrist to elbow. “I bit down hard. I didn’t scream. He hurt me, but I didn’t scream. No one should know.” She glanced around as if to see who was listening, then whispered, “I was so quiet.” Elise caught Flynn’s hand with her own. “But when he came out, he cried. I tried, but I couldn’t stop him.”
She huddled closer to Flynn and said, “I have a secret. The child you seek. Your moon child.” She stared over his shoulder. “You must . . .”
Two women marched across the room toward us. One wore pale blue nurse’s scrubs and the other a gray suit so tailored it could be armor. The one in scrubs had a needle in her hand and she hurried toward Elise.
We stood to face the armor suit. The woman had drawn her hair so tight into a bun that it stretched pale skin across her cheekbones and narrowed her eyes to dark slits. The female guardians of this hellhole had an unwholesome lack of grace and humanity. I wondered if they were that way when they came, or if the place leached the warmth out of them over time.
The ID badge pinned to the suit gave her name as ANITA COHEN, DIRECTOR.
“Get out.” Cohen’s hands curled into fists. “You do not have permission—”
In a surprising move, Flynn offered her his badge. He stood tall and straight. He mastered intimidation on a cold, forceful level I couldn’t match.
“That does not impress me,” Cohen snarled.
“I’m not here to impress you, Director Cohen. I’m following leads in an active investigation and I will go where they take me. Hindering that investigation is a felony.” Flynn pocketed his badge. “And since you’ve incapacitated the person I was interviewing—” He nodded at Elise. The nurse in scrubs was withdrawing the needle from her arm.
“Leads? This patient?” She sneered at Elise. “They locked her in here twenty years ago. She could not possibly have any information for you. I’m going to file a complaint with your superiors and—”
“Hey!” I said the word with a little more force than I’d intended. “This patient? This woman is a human being, not an animal.”
The anger in Cohen’s face faded, replaced by a neutral mask. “Technically, you’re quite right. She’s not an animal. But I doubt if you could make the parents of the infants she strangled in their cribs believe it.” She stared at Flynn. “You’re the cop. How many were there before they caught her?”
I started to speak, then gave up. There was nothing to say.
“I want to see her records.” Flynn’s hands clenched into fists.
“Get a warrant.” Cohen called his bluff.
Two men arrived, men so bulky you knew they did some serious bodybuilding.
“Show Detective Flynn and Ms. Archer out,” Cohen ordered. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at us.
“Elise?” She watched me with vacant eyes. Hopeless. I knelt beside her. “I’ll talk to Michael. Maybe he can fix it so we can see you again.”
Flynn and I left, escorted by the two steroid boys. Neither of us spoke until the car moved onto the street and the wind blowing through the windows cooled it down to a hundred and ten.
“Wow.” I’d never had an experience like that one.
“Bullshit!” Flynn spit out the word. “You think I wouldn’t have heard of strangled babies? I know guys who have been on the force over twenty-five years. They’re always ready to lay a crime story on anyone who will listen.”
“Money buys silence. How much money to keep parents quiet? A million? Two
“I tried to save him,” she said. “My beautiful boy. My Michael. I tried to give him the greatest gift. To be with his father.” Her mouth turned down and anger filled her voice. “But that woman came and took my little angel away.” She held out her arm. Small arc-shaped scars decorated her skin from wrist to elbow. “I bit down hard. I didn’t scream. He hurt me, but I didn’t scream. No one should know.” She glanced around as if to see who was listening, then whispered, “I was so quiet.” Elise caught Flynn’s hand with her own. “But when he came out, he cried. I tried, but I couldn’t stop him.”
She huddled closer to Flynn and said, “I have a secret. The child you seek. Your moon child.” She stared over his shoulder. “You must . . .”
Two women marched across the room toward us. One wore pale blue nurse’s scrubs and the other a gray suit so tailored it could be armor. The one in scrubs had a needle in her hand and she hurried toward Elise.
We stood to face the armor suit. The woman had drawn her hair so tight into a bun that it stretched pale skin across her cheekbones and narrowed her eyes to dark slits. The female guardians of this hellhole had an unwholesome lack of grace and humanity. I wondered if they were that way when they came, or if the place leached the warmth out of them over time.
The ID badge pinned to the suit gave her name as ANITA COHEN, DIRECTOR.
“Get out.” Cohen’s hands curled into fists. “You do not have permission—”
In a surprising move, Flynn offered her his badge. He stood tall and straight. He mastered intimidation on a cold, forceful level I couldn’t match.
“That does not impress me,” Cohen snarled.
“I’m not here to impress you, Director Cohen. I’m following leads in an active investigation and I will go where they take me. Hindering that investigation is a felony.” Flynn pocketed his badge. “And since you’ve incapacitated the person I was interviewing—” He nodded at Elise. The nurse in scrubs was withdrawing the needle from her arm.
“Leads? This patient?” She sneered at Elise. “They locked her in here twenty years ago. She could not possibly have any information for you. I’m going to file a complaint with your superiors and—”
“Hey!” I said the word with a little more force than I’d intended. “This patient? This woman is a human being, not an animal.”
The anger in Cohen’s face faded, replaced by a neutral mask. “Technically, you’re quite right. She’s not an animal. But I doubt if you could make the parents of the infants she strangled in their cribs believe it.” She stared at Flynn. “You’re the cop. How many were there before they caught her?”
I started to speak, then gave up. There was nothing to say.
“I want to see her records.” Flynn’s hands clenched into fists.
“Get a warrant.” Cohen called his bluff.
Two men arrived, men so bulky you knew they did some serious bodybuilding.
“Show Detective Flynn and Ms. Archer out,” Cohen ordered. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at us.
“Elise?” She watched me with vacant eyes. Hopeless. I knelt beside her. “I’ll talk to Michael. Maybe he can fix it so we can see you again.”
Flynn and I left, escorted by the two steroid boys. Neither of us spoke until the car moved onto the street and the wind blowing through the windows cooled it down to a hundred and ten.
“Wow.” I’d never had an experience like that one.
“Bullshit!” Flynn spit out the word. “You think I wouldn’t have heard of strangled babies? I know guys who have been on the force over twenty-five years. They’re always ready to lay a crime story on anyone who will listen.”
“Money buys silence. How much money to keep parents quiet? A million? Two
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