A Twisted Ladder (57 page)

Agent Gorman’s gaze burned on her. Madeleine was certain he knew she was lying. Ethan listened, sleepy-eyed.

Gorman said, “Why would he go to a place you know about? Knowing you might tell us?”

“Like I said, I may be wrong. I’m sorry to have gotten you up in the middle of the night.”

This was true; Madeleine could be wrong. She almost hoped she was wrong. She was placing a tremendous amount of credibility on something that was either a phenomenon or madness. But she knew better. Severin and her briar patch had revealed the truth.

Gorman continued to stare, expressionless. Madeleine did her best not to squirm.

“All right. We’re checking it out. Anything else I should know?”

She flinched, remembering one other thing: In the vision Severin had showed her, Zenon had not been alone. She’d seen another male figure within the darkness of the industrial plant, about Zenon’s height, broad-shouldered, chewing on a toothpick or something and wearing a porkpie hat. But how could she possibly tell Gorman that Zenon had an accomplice in such a way that Gorman would trust the information? Already he seemed to sense she was lying about how she knew about the plant.

“I can’t think of anything else,” Madeleine said.

“I trust you’ll be available if we need you?”

She shrugged. “I’ll be here.”

HOURS LATER, AFTER MADELEINE
had given up entirely on sleep and had made coffee while Ethan showered, she called Agent Gorman to find out whether they’d made any progress. He informed her that they’d picked Zenon up early that morning, and he was now in custody. Madeleine felt such relief that tears coursed down her face. Perhaps now she could stop focusing on the horrible murder and figure out what was going on with herself. Perhaps. Once she was sure they had a strong case against him. Then she’d be able to relax.

Gorman had, however, refused to divulge where they had found Zenon, citing case confidentiality. Madeleine suspected that he was just being obnoxious, though; no reason why he couldn’t tell her whether they found Zenon at the industrial plant in Beaumont. She suspected he was playing mind games because he had guessed that she’d lied about how she knew the place.

Her stomach churned. She wanted so very badly to know whether what Severin had showed her was real. It would be one more piece of evidence to support the argument that she was not crazy. That something else was going on.

She caught a glance of herself in the mirror, already dressed for work in navy blue slacks and a white button-down. Even the bruises were faded. Almost normal-looking. The sound of Ethan’s shower was soothing.

She switched on the TV and surfed until she found the news. They showed images of an armed robbery caught on a security camera. Madeleine chewed her lip, watching. And then came the next headline, “Manhunt Ends,” and Zenon’s face flashed. The reporter divulged that he’d been picked up early that morning at an industrial plant near Beaumont, Texas.

Confidentiality, my butt
.

Madeleine listened carefully to every word, but no mention of a second man. She was worried, but what could she do about it? She sank onto the couch.

“Severin.”

“Yes?”

“What about my father? Can you tell me where he is?”

“Another little look?”

“I’d rather you just told me.”

“Ah! Would you just? Why would that be pleasing to me?”

“What is it that you want?”

Severin smiled, a slow, malicious expression that made Madeleine’s blood grow cold. “A little sport. A game or such.”

Madeleine didn’t want to think what she meant by that. She recalled the way Severin had been toying with the rat in Bayou Black—her version of a game.

Severin pouted. “If we wish to see the father we must go have a look in the dark caves.”

“I have to go to work in a few minutes. I’d better not.”

“Yes, the ward. The people touched in the head. They love to listen to the whispers.”

Madeleine stared at her. “You realize you can’t come with me, don’t you?”

Severin gave her a nasty look. “I come when I like!”

“Who are you talking to?”

Madeleine looked up, surprised, and saw Ethan dressed and ready for work.

Madeleine gestured a little unsteadily at the television. “They got him.”

Severin was saying, “Touched in the head. We whisper to one to bite the other. A fun game, yes . . .”

The room grew darker as the bramble advanced.

“I . . . I think I’m going to stay home today after all,” Madeleine said.

Ethan was looking at her with concern. The television rambled and Severin kept going with her nasty words. Madeleine couldn’t make out what Ethan was saying. She wanted so badly to talk to her father about all of this. All her years of education and research seemed suddenly irrelevant. She needed to hear him speak about his experiences, and she would be listening with a new set of ears.

Madeleine said, “I have a headache. Can’t concentrate.”

She was barely aware when Ethan kissed her good-bye.

AGENT GORMAN SUMMONED HER
to the FBI’s Louisiana headquarters on Leon C. Simon Boulevard. Usually, he would come to her place or call her if he had questions, so the request to come to their offices was an unusual one. She wondered if he asked her there as a means to intimidate her.

She was dismayed to discover that the topic of the interview was Zenon’s hideout in Beaumont. Gorman and another agent asked her to go over what happened in the swamp and how she came to know about the industrial plant. They stood over her, and asked her the same questions over and over again. Hours passed, and she began to feel like a broken record, repeating herself in that closed-in room.

Apparently Zenon had denied ever taking her there as teenagers, which is something she had expected. But, the agents had learned that the plant had not been abandoned until six years ago, when she was already in her twenties.

Oops
.

Madeleine cleared her throat. “Their offices might have been active. But that silo-looking thing was abandoned. The lock has been broken for years.”

A decent lie, she thought. She had no idea what else to tell them. Absolutely no way was she going to tell them about Severin.

Gorman exchanged looks with the other agent. “Why would Mr. Lansky deny having accompanied you there?”

She shrugged. “Zenon Lansky is out to get me. He’d probably say anything to discredit me.”

“That’s true.” Gorman settled himself in a chair opposite her. “Except I don’t believe you either.”

She swallowed. “I can’t help that.”

Silence crushed in around her. She felt the urge to say something else. To prattle on in some wild explanation. But she guessed that’s exactly what they wanted. The more she spoke, the more likely she was to expose her secrets.

She pulled back her chair and stood. “Look, we’ve gone over and over this, and I’ve helped you all I can. Now I’m going home.”

“We’re not finished yet.” Gorman placed a hand on her arm to detain her.

She felt the temperature rise in her blood.

Lie or no lie, you’d think I was the murderer!

“
I’m
finished.” She removed his hand from her arm. “And unless you’re going to arrest
me
, I’m going home.”

The door opened and a woman appeared.

“Please wait a moment, Dr. LeBlanc.”

She had obviously been observing them somehow. She introduced herself as U.S. Attorney Kristen Jameson. Her strawberry blond hair held a tinge of gray, and she wore an expensive suit and very little makeup.

“I know you’re tired, and it seems like you’re repeating yourself,” Ms. Jameson said. “I’ve asked the agents to be very thorough with this investigation.”

She gestured for Madeleine to sit. Madeleine looked at the agents with suspicion, then sighed, and sank to the chair.

Jameson sat next to Madeleine. “We’re trying to build a strong case against Mr. Lansky. But there is a serious lack of evidence. We have tested the blood found in the plantation house in Hahnville, and we have been able to match it to blood samples taken from Angel Frey. She’s been missing for some time, but we still don’t have a body for her yet.”

“Angel Frey?” Madeleine’s heart began to race. “I heard about her. My God. That was her blood in the plantation house?”

“The police are working very hard to come up with something concrete to connect him.”

“Her blood in that house? That sounds like pretty strong evidence to me.”

“It’s a good start,” Jameson agreed. “But Mr. Lansky asserts that he hasn’t been to the plantation property in years.”

“But I saw him there. And my father did too.”

“We are anxious to talk to your father.
If
he can be located.”

Madeleine bit her lip.

Mrs. Jameson said, “But even so, it’s my understanding that your father has mental issues. Not the best candidate for a witness.”

Madeleine swallowed, cheeks burning, and managed to nod.

“But either way, Dr. LeBlanc, right now it’s just you. We can’t prove Mr. Lansky was there. Anyone could have gotten into that old abandoned house. And,” she said, watching Madeleine’s face, “it does seem odd that you’re the only witness we have, and you can put him both at the plantation
and
at the swamp.
And
you located him in Beaumont. You have to admit, it’s quite a coincidence.”

Madeleine’s hands were going numb. “I guess that does seem strange.”

The U.S. Attorney stared at Madeleine’s face. Madeleine refused to move. Didn’t dare flinch. She felt that if she so much as batted an eye, she would lose whatever reserve of calm was left to her and the bramble would take over.

“All right,” Jameson finally said. “I will tell you this: It’s beginning to look like the bulk of our case against Mr. Lansky will hinge on your testimony, and we want to make absolutely sure that you are a credible witness. That’s why we have to ask so many questions.”

“There’s no other connection between Zenon and Anita Salazar?”

Jameson shrugged. “We do have witnesses that can put the two of them together. We were hoping to pull evidence from the victim herself, but due to the extreme conditions her body was subjected to postmortem, anything that might have been there is contaminated. We were hoping for something stronger.”

“And you’ve searched Zenon’s fishing cabin in Bayou Black, and his house in Plaquemine too?”

She nodded. “We found a stun gun and pepper spray at the fishing cabin, but he sells those at his store. It’s looking like we’ve recovered as much evidence as we’re going to get. You will be our key witness, Dr. LeBlanc.”

Ms. Jameson drew a deep, tired breath. “I hope you’re ready.”