The parks and pools identified the day before had not resulted in any progress toward finding Anna. After a long morning of Lewis trying and failing to get more out of Zelinsky, Hathaway was taking his turn in the interview room, Lewis observing from behind the glass.
"You know, I believe you and I have something in common."
Zelinsky's eyes flicked up, interested. "Whatever could that be?"
"We both like to see fear in other people's eyes. That's why intimidation doesn't work on you, isn't it? You understand the psychology of fear." He articulated the last three words carefully.
Zelinsky smiled slyly. "I thought there was more to you than mere brute, Sergeant."
Hathaway continued. "See, my guv, the Inspector, he's a . . . nice man. A gentle man, at heart. He doesn't understand the power of fear, when it's done well."
"He likes young girls, though, which I somehow imagine you don't."
"Yeah, it's a weakness of his. He likes to touch and play with them, but not to scare them. Which leads me to the one thing I don't understand." Hathaway seemed analytical. "How can you derive satisfaction from frightening little girls? Such an easy target, I should think. Not much challenge there."
"You have experience, I expect."
Hathaway waited for him to answer the question.
Zelinsky settled into his chair. "It's not merely frightening a girl. It's making her life unpredictable. Treat her like a princess, then treat her like a whore. Stroke her hair, then twist it up tight in your fist. Make the tears come out. Surprise her with little gifts, then surprise her with pain. A little pet, a kitten or rabbit, let her play with it, then crush it with your heel, or break its neck. Do things for her, then make her do things for you."
"Things? What sort of things?"
The suspect grinned lasciviously. "Everything you're thinking, Sergeant. All of that."
Hathaway pulled on his lower lip thoughtfully. "So, you become the only thing she has, the centre of her world. And because she never knows what exactly she's going to get, she does her very best to please, to be a good girl, to get you to be the giver instead of the killer." His eyes seemed to glow with desire.
Zelinsky leaned forward, eagerly. "They have the softest hands, you know? And the softest lips."
"Mister Zelinsky, please keep your hands on the table where I can see them." Sharply.
A flicker of wrath across his face, but he brought his hands onto the table.
There was a long period of silence.
Zelinsky studied the table. "They scream so exquisitely, young girls. You really should try one."
Hathaway said nothing for some time. "Maybe I will."
Lewis watched from the observation room, fascinated. Hathaway had progressed phenomenally in his interview technique and, had he not known the man so well, he would have found Hathaway's portrayal of a sadist disturbing.
However, despite continued questioning, Hathaway extracted nothing more of substance from him. But Lewis could tell by the end of the session that the climate had changed between the sergeant and the suspect.
They called it an early evening. Both men felt as though they had been beaten up and they had no more capacity for continuing their roles beyond six o'clock.
Lewis put his hand on Hathaway's shoulder. "Doctor Hobson has offered to buy the first round. Are you coming?"
Hathaway did not answer but he followed as Lewis strode down the street in the direction of the White Horse.
They sat sipping their pints in silence. Doctor Laura Hobson looked from one man to the other for most of the first round.
"Are you boys alright? I get more conversation from the bodies in my morgue than you two are providing tonight."
Hathaway exploded unexpectedly. "No, Doctor, we're not alright! We've just spent the better part of three days trying to work our way under the skin of a very sick man. It's not a place I want to be, but there you go. It's the only chance we have at saving the girl he abducted weeks ago, so we have to do it." He was breathing heavily by the time he finished his rant.
Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. "Sorry, James. Really, I am." An awkward silence followed.
"I'll get this round." Hathaway collected the glasses, stood up and made his way to the bar.
Laura looked intently at Lewis. "Robbie. He needs you. He needs your help."
Lewis shook his head. "I can't, Laura. I'm drained. I have nothing to give him. I'm only just keeping meself from falling apart completely." He saw her frown. "I wish I could help him, really."
Hathaway returned with the drinks. Laura was amazed at the change in the two men this evening. Normally, they would tease and joke, or else quietly make fun at the expense of other patrons of the pub. Tonight they were tense and there was nothing between them: not a word, not a glance. It seemed that each man was in his own cell, a complete stranger to the other. It was eerie.
She turned to Hathaway. "James, if this is troubling you so much maybe you should see someone about it."
At first he stared fixedly ahead. Then he whirled, grabbing her jaw with one hand, his thumb digging into her cheek. "I don't need anyone telling me what to do or how to handle this, okay?" The people at the next table stopped their conversation to see if some sort of situation was going to develop.
He seemed to be trying to crush her jaw. Lewis, stunned, finally reacted to the fright in her eyes, leaping up and pulling Hathaway away from her.
"Hathaway, man, what the hell are you doing?"
James's eyes went from one to the other as if he'd never seen them before. Then he strode from the pub.
Lewis, half in shock, turned to the Doctor. Startled tears welled in her eyes.
"Laura, are you alright? Look what he's done to you." He gently brushed the angry red mark on her cheek.
"Don't fuss over me, Robbie, go after him."
Lewis collapsed into his chair. "I can't, Laura, I've just said. Anyway, he'll be long gone by now." He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "God, I wish Val were here."
He flinched when Laura put a hand on his back. "Robbie?" She spoke quietly, directly into his ear. "This case is changing you both, and not for the better. How is that happening?"
"It won't be permanent, Laura. It's just . . . for now. Y'know? We're trying to get this depraved . . . beast to open up to us. I play at being a paedophile and James pretends to be violent." He checked to see if she understood the enormity of what they were being required to do. "Val always helped us with this kind of thing. She knew exactly what to say—well, what to not say, if that makes sense."
Laura took his hands in hers. They were shaking.
"I'm sorry, Laura. Here I am, going on about Val. It's only, without her . . ." He raised his eyes. They glistened. But he met hers squarely. "We're just two men, lost at sea, miles from shore. It may be that he'll drown on his own. But I have only enough strength to save m'self. If I try to help him, we're both lost. Both lost." He repeated.
She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it. "You're right to take care of yourself, Robbie. But are you certain James knows he's supposed to be pretending? What he did here tonight . . . it was so out of character. And yet it seemed so genuine." She lowered her voice. "He frightened me. And it almost seemed as though that was what he wanted."