Death of a Washington Madame by Warren Adler

you blame him?"
    "That would be the last thing I could do," Fiona
sighed.
    "He's right, you know," Dr. Benton said. "In
my view, marriage requires proximity."
    "Why can't you read tea leaves instead of ... dead
people?"
    She popped the last chunk of her bagel into her mouth and
washed it down with coffee.
    "I wish I could, Fi."
    At that moment, the telephone rang. He picked it up.
    "Yes, Gail. It's confirmed. She's right here."
    He handed her the phone.
    "Weird call, Fi." So she was back on Fi, which
was encouraging. "Roy, the faithful retainer. Says he's caught the
killer."
    "What?"
    "I'm quoting verbatim. He has him locked in Mrs.
Shipley's wine cellar."

CHAPTER 6
    Roy was waiting for them in the
front of Mrs. Shipley's house.
    "It was the cross," he said, as he led them
through the corridor to a doorway under the staircase that hid the entrance to
the back stairs. After descending the stairs, they walked through a dank
basement corridor lit at intervals by a series of bare bulbs.
    "I've been cruising the neighborhood," Roy continued. "I had this idea in my head that, whoever he was, he would be wearing
that cross as a kind of trophy of conquest."
    "How can you be so sure he's the one?" Fiona
asked.
    "It took him awhile," Roy said looking back at
them archly, his lips pursed in a tight cryptic smile. "But eventually he
saw the value of a full confession."
    "When did you find him?" Fiona asked.
    "Late last night. There he was hanging out on 14th Street, just five blocks from here, wearing that cross, doing his pimp walk, proud as a
bantam rooster."
    "How did you get him to come with you?" Gail
asked.
    "Believe me, he had no choice."
    "Why didn't you contact us last night?" Fiona
asked.
    "I wanted to be sure he was the one."
    "And now you're sure?"
    "Beyond a reasonable doubt."
    "Where's Gloria?" Gail asked.
    "There."
    He pointed to Gloria who stood in front of a wooden door,
apparently the entrance to the wine cellar. Her hands were folded into the
opposite arms of the cardigan she was wearing. She looked somber and troubled.
    "Gloria's a witness, right Gloria?" Roy muttered.
    She nodded. Fiona and Gail exchanged troubled glances.
    "Why in there?" Fiona asked.
    "No way out."
    Roy reached for a heavy metal ring
on which dangled a key. Fiona noted that although the knuckles of his hands
were swollen and arthritic and part of the little finger of his left hand was
missing at its tip, the hands appeared sure and strong and worked smoothly. He
inserted the key in the lock, turned it and pushed open the heavy door. He
flicked a wall switch. The room exploded in harsh light.
    There were a few dusty bottles scattered through the
shelves, but it was obvious that the room had not been used for years. In a
corner of the room, his face swollen, looking bug-eyed and frightened was a
naked black teenage boy. His body was a mass of cuts and bruises, his genitals
purple and battered. He was seated on a wooden chair, his ankles tied together
with wire. His arms reached behind the back of the chair where they were also
tied together.
    His clothes were strewn in a pile on the floor and on the
pile was what Fiona assumed was Mrs. Shipley's gold cross.
    "This is crazy, Roy," Fiona snapped. "Untie
that boy immediately."
    "That's no boy. That's the monster who did this to
Madame."
    Gloria had come in behind them.
    "I recorded his confession," she said, removing a
tape recorder from the pocket of her cardigan.
    "You were a part of this, Gloria?" Fiona asked.
    She bowed her head and nodded.
    "I don't know what you were thinking," Fiona
said, turning to Roy. "You can't do this."
    "You had no right," Gail said, her anger rising.
    "Don't talk to me about rights," Roy said. He looked at the boy. "Talk to this little bastard about rights, the right
of Madame to be alive today."
    "This is nothing more than a lynching without
trial," Gail pressed.
    "Lynching? He's still alive isn't he? I would have
killed him without a pang of conscience."
    "I'm surprised