To Hope Anew

Chapter Seventeen

"You're wrong on this one, Bennett. You know it, and I know it.This guy couldn't have murdered that kid like that. And his owndaughter? I mean, I've been pretty upset at some of the guys myElaine has brought home, but I've never cracked their heads open witha baseball bat. And I've only managed to ground my daughter into thenext millenium, not strangle her with my bare hands."

Diana closed her eyes and attempted to keep her self control asshe listened to Jimmy ridicule her conclusions. She honestly believedJoe enjoyed watching her and the homicide detective argue every pointof a case out from opposing angles. He seemed to get a perversesatisfaction at pairing them up lately on cases. But, at least he wasassured of a complete and thorough investigation.

Jimmy would pound the beat, corner the informants, pour over alltheir leads with the tried and true methods of old-fashioned,gut-wrecking police work. She would come at the cases through themurky depths of suspects' minds and motivations, reading minutetraces of habit, following them into psychological patterns, andpredicting her quarry's next moves with eerie certainty.

Between the two of them, very few stones were left unturned withinan investigation.

This case, though, was a heart-breaker, as Joe called it.

Two high school sweethearts at a lovers' rondeveaux in a smallneighborhood park had been murdered as they lay in each others' arms.Several weeks later, another couple was attacked near the same area,another two teenagers were dead.

The neighborhood was in a complete panic, fearing that their youngpeople were being stalked by some demented serial killer fixated onyoung couples in compromising situations. Nothing seemed to worktogether on the case, nothing fit.

Until Diana had accompanied Joe to another questioning sessionwith the first girl's father.

Joe let Diana calm down a moment or two longer before he addressedJimmy. "I want that park surveillance to continue, all right? We aregoing to get this guy."

"Whoever he may be." The homicide detective couldn't resist onefinal dig at Diana's theory. She was about to read him down when shecaught Joe's signal to let it pass. He obviously wanted to talk toher alone.

"I swear, Maxwell, this city is not paying me enough to put upwith the narrow-minded, egotistical likes of . . . "

" . . . Whoa, Bennett, time out." Joe closed the door of hisoffice himself, behind the retreating figure of the detective. "Younever used to let it get to you. Come on. You know Jimmy's a good copin his own right. He just needs to do things differently thanyou."

"I don't know why you insist on dragging me into these meetingswith him when essentially we're just working the case on ourown."

"Hey, I said he was a good cop. I didn't say he couldn't use alittle bit of updating on his techniques. Maybe some of your savvywill rub off on him.""Don't hold your breath," came the conclusionJoe knew he was bound to hear.

In actuality, he'd paired the two unlikely partners more forDiana's benefit than Jimmy's updating, though he would never admit itto her. He'd been worried about her lately. It was so easy for her tocompletely bury herself into her caseloads. Joe had hoped thatbringing her a bit more into the traditional line of policeinvestigative procedure could balance her emotional involvement withher work.

He wasn't certain he'd been successful beyond the point of merelycausing her irritation. She still looked like she wasn't sleepingmuch, propably not even eating well. But instead of appearing haggardand put upon, he realized that Diana was looking more and more --

fragile -- her grip on herself shaky at best, as though her spiritwasn't exactly within herself any longer but pulled transparentlyaway from her.

Joe came back over to the enigmatic young woman and handed her acup of coffee from the side board.

"So what do you really feel about this case, Diana? You'reconvinced, right? It was DeSalvo himself that killed his daughter,and those other kids."

"It's him, Joe, I know it."

"Convince me."

Diana took a long draught of the coffee. Joe could almost see herplacing herself into the crime scene, literally. It was almost --spooky -- he thought, the way she worked. But she could see thingsfrom her rather unearthly point of view that everyone else wouldmiss.

"The first murders were obviously a crime of passion, rage. Thatboy's skull was fractured with one blow. It took almost more thanmere human strength to do it. It took human strength fed byrage."

"I'll buy that," Joe commented. "And the girl? His own daughter? Imean, she's his flesh and blood. So she's having a teenage encounter.You'd like to think a father could get past that. I mean, any fatherwould dread it, any father would be angry and hurt, but murder?"

"Rejection could fuel rage pretty well, Joe. Connie was rejectingher father for someone else."

Joe looked at the young police woman in complete disbelief. Howcould someone as honest and hopeful and beautifully featured as Dianacome up with the sordid and ugly truth about whatever she was workingon? But, it would seem to fit.

"You think DeSalvo was jealous, I mean really jealous? He had athing for his own daugher?"

"Look at his history, Joe. His wife left him with a four year oldto raise so she could run off with a co-worker. He never remarried.He's always been strict with his daughter about everything, datingespecially, enforcing rules beyond the norm for a girl her age.

"She may have been rebelling against him for plainly simpleteenage reasons, but she was in love with a young man her fatherdetested, not only because he came from the wrong side of thetracks.

"That boy was a rival. DeSalvo was losing control of his daugher,losing her love to someone else. It made him angry. He was going tocontrol her any way he could. He had for most of her life. Only she'dgotten used to it. But Ritchie Alavar made her realize there was moreto life."

Joe pushed back in his chair and uttered a low whistle as hethought the theory through. "He does have that control type attitude,doesn't he? He's a real taskmaster at work from what his employeeshave said."

"Yes, and he especially needs to control women. Any threat to hissuperiority in anything from them . . . "

"Are you sure, Diana? I mean, this was his daughter, for God'ssake. I could maybe see him killing the boy, but his daughter?"

"Joe, he was ready to teach Connie a lesson she would neverforget. Maybe the rage got the better of him. Maybe he really didn'tintend to kill her. But, she'd overstepped, way overstepped herboundaries. And he was going to make certain she knew she was goingto have to pay. Maybe he was killing his wife, showing her the lessonhe never had the chance to, making her pay at last. That's how he'sdealt with the few women who have crossed him over the years,asserting his control. He let me know when we were interviewing himagain today."

The DA straightened in his chair immediately at that lastsentence. He'd picked up on it, too, that morning: The cool,successful businessman patiently answering questions he'd informedthem were only wild conjectures he'd deal with through his priceylawyers. Building up his own formidable defense.

All the while he was undressing Diana with a cold leering starethat threatened far worse if she had the audacity to cross him againwithout her companion.

"You caught it? The attitude he had towards you today?"

"It was a little hard to miss. He let me know, plain and true,that he'd like to meet me in a dark alley some night."

"God, Diana. It's a lot to swallow. But, it does fit. And theother two kids? Just a cover-up, right? The first murders could havebeen acts of passion, but the second couple was premeditated, pureand simple, just to run us off his tracks."

"I think so. He was in the park on both those nights. I know hehas alibis, but we have to punch holes in them somehow. The man is acold, calculating killer."

Joe held the deep green eyes of the young police woman for a longmoment. He couldn't believe she could touch to such darkness and notsuccumb to it herself completely.

For an instant he felt supremely guilty himself. What was he doinghere? Forcing an extraordinary mind, an extraordinary woman to digwithin the bowels of society with her special gifts of insight. In away, he was controlling her, too, making her use her unique gifts,exploit them, without considering the cost to her. How a soul couldlive day after day immersed in the quagmire of violence and madnessthat so much of her work dragged her through was beyond hiscomprehension. She had to have an inner strength of cold hard steelto survive it all.

Yet, he sensed the -- pain -- this particular case was causingher, despite her considerable defenses. It was more than simplyhaving her work ridiculed by a close-minded co-worker. She was inthis case, deeply, dangerously so. He could sense it, the pleadingneed to set it all to right somehow, resurrect the souls of innocentsthat had been profaned in their tenderest of moments together.

And even more than his fear for her emotional and psychologicalwell-being: He'd been startled when Jimmy had shared with him a photoof DeSalvo's runaway wife. The fading, twelve year old photo found inConnie's personal album in her room was of a fair-skinned,green-eyed, redhead. The detective had off-handedly remarked that thesuspect's ex "looked a lot like Bennett."

Joe hadn't thought much of it, but now it screamed out to him inhis mind where all sorts of alarms were going off. Diana had remarkedDeSalvo could have possibly been acting out the murder of his wife inhis rage with his daughter. He'd uncharacteristically lost hisdetachment when Diana had questioned him this morning, making certainshe'd picked up on the unvoiced threat in his unholy study ofher.

"Do you want me to order an extra patrol on your street, Diana?"Joe asked, as she picked up her coat from the chair arm. She justsmiled back at him, a little wearily, he thought. And sovulnerable.

Then and there, Joe resolved that Diana's unique perspectivesneeded to be channeled into another direction, and soon, for her ownsake. The hell with all the byzantine cases that would clamor out forher expertise! Let someone else bust their guts on them. Once thiscase was over, he was going to recommend Diana for her lieutenant'sshield and then get her assigned to the staff of the Police Academywhere she could pass her special insights on to other investigatorsin relatively benign confines.

"I'll be fine, Joe. DeSalvo's not going to do anythingstupid."

"God, I hope so," Joe whispered after Diana as she left.

It had taken another three weeks of work on the case before they'dmanaged to break wide open DeSalvo's alibis. Two girls had seen hiscar in the park the first night. They hadn't come forward becausethey were already in trouble themselves, for being out with a groupof kids their parents didn't approve of.

When the drinking and the questionable pairings off started, thegirls had sensibly quit the group, but had found themselves strandedand forced to walk home. They'd didn't want their parents to knowthey'd been out against their wishes, but Jimmy had blanketed thelocal high school with photos of DeSalvo and his car, and they hadremembered nearly being run down by a speeding vehicle on one of theparkways the night of Connie's and Ritchie's murders.

The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place, and Dianafound that she was spending more and more time pouring overblood-curdling crime scene photos, tracing and retracing the victims'movements, and the suspect's, letting every minute detail of the casefilter through her mind for hours without end, hardly pausing forfood or rest.

She desperately needed to break away from the monotony of pain,but for some unexplained reason, the case became more than consumingfor her. There were threads of emotions in the circumstances thatwere painfully familiar to her, a kinship with the victims she foundit hard to break away from.

Given a half-dozen opportunities to replenish her spirit in theUnderworld, she'd simply refused the gentle and concerned urgings ofthose she loved Below. Many nights, she was simply too exhausted toquit her work, falling asleep at her computer where she read and

re-read the case journals that she kept, the bits of informationshe could trace with only insanely abbreviated certainty.

On some nights she didn't sleep at all. She'd find herselfstairing at the photographs on her bulletin board, pictures andnotations that had no right to share the same space:

Fresh-faced high schoolers in yearbook candids juxtaposed withpolice black & white photos of bloodied bodies in obscenelyreduced positions that had begun as expressions of young love;litanies of future hopes in scholarship application essays andbiographical information on future pediatricians and journalists,being crowded off her board by autopsy reports and forensicsinformation.

Diana promised herself that when this case was resolved, she wouldconvince Joe and her captain to give her a couple of weeks off, nostrings attatched. She knew, herself, that she was close to reachingthe limits of her emotional and mental endurance. Only the thought ofallowing DeSalvo one more day of freedom because she couldn't keepherself together long enough to get him behind bars, held her to thebrutal pace of the investigation. But, she knew she had to leave itall behind, soon.

With some time to herself, she could fill her days with thesoothing warmth of candlelight and nurturing hearts Below. It wouldbe her only source of restoration. She missed spending time withMary, and Jacob. It had been probably more than a month that she'dseen the little boy, now an articulate and very mobile two yearold.

And she missed spending time with Vincent.

Their relationship was quietly deepening, and at the same time,never uncomplicating itself. They'd spent a few hours together hereand there, on her rooftop once or twice, when Vincent had unashamedlycome up to check on her, though he'd always only own up to it being acollective concern for her well-being that propelled him to seek herout.

They'd spoken of quietly mundane things Below, of her stymiedefforts with the case, never once touching upon what really had drawnthem together those particular nights:

the overwhelming need to be sheltered in the other's presence.

Though they'd touched upon the breathless physical melding oftheir relationship when she'd been stranded in the Underworld, theweeks and months that had passed since then had found them sharing anunvoiced, but agreed to decision, to leave that portion of their needfor one another to the realm of future risks and hopes. It was tooencompassing a mystery to handle lightly or in haste, still burdenedwith guilt and fear, and now Diana's spirit-draining commitment tothis case.

Instead, they settled ino a comforting depth of emotional andspiritual support that could easily have taken an entire lifetime toforge under less stressful circumstances. That support was blessedlyin place for Diana now that she seemed to need it most, though shewould rarely seek it out. Her total obsession with her case wastaking more and more of her own peace of mind with it, and she knewshe'd never survive having to negotiate the risk-riddled path of amore intimately elevated bonding with Vincent's heart.

She could barely keep her spirit and mind working together now.How could she ever consider even adding to the volatile mix her ownunsteady heart and desires?

The thought of at least a few hours, though, of peace Below, wastoo bewitching to resist one day. Diana knew she simply had to maketime for the visit or risk her sanity. She'd found herself at thatpoint. So she had ventured to the softly-lit confines of therock-chambered walls for a late lunch at the river's edge, and somesoul-restoring moments with the man that held her very essence withinhis heart.

They'd spent time simply enjoying each other's company with thecomforting murmur of the water slipping past them in the background.Jacob had infected them with his breathless wonder, and for a shortinterval of time, life was as it should be for all three of them.

It wasn't long before the little boy's constant activity caught upwith him, along with the hearty-portioned meal, and the mysteriouslyradiant light that diffused itself throughout the cavern. He fellsoundly asleep in Diana's arms.

Soon, she, too, felt herself sweetly drawn into the drowsy comfortof the moment, the sound of Vincent's deep, soft voice very much asheltering lullaby as he read aloud. She left behind herbone-shattering weariness, the ache in her soul that dealing with thefrightful murder case had hung around her spirit for so long. Dianajust let herself drift away.

Somewhere in the soft, sweet moments, the dreamlike impressions oftender nurturing became the reality of Vincent's body gentlysupporting hers, his strong, protective arm cradled carefully overboth her and Jacob, his breath gentle and warm in her hair. It feltso right, so welcome, so -- possible. There was nothing heartstoppingabout it. Life could be so sweet.

The world Above had other ideas, though. Diana could only sparethose few too-short hours to remind herself that there could be adifferent reality to her existence. She longed for it.

But a murdered girl's spirit would not let her rest.