Naked Cruelty by Colleen McCullough Page A

rapes, except maybe his fist, but that’s a part of his body. It interests Delia and me that the most strenuous tussles he had with his victims were before he put socks on their feet and cut their nails. We think he’s taking precautions for later in the night, when he might flag a little himself. Those long, huge erections must take a heavy toll. I mean, sex is a pleasure, but it’s also something you have to work at, especially the man.”
    â€œHas anything further turned up about the books? It seems weird to me that the victims don’t remember a title,” Carmine said.
    What a pertinent way to change the subject, Helen thought. The boss could see my frankness made Nick uneasy, so Carmine to the rescue of a fellow man.
    Delia answered. “The smallest library held three hundred books, and all of them contained at least a hundred novels. Most of the novels were old and hadn’t been read in years. All the victims could have named a purloined textbook, but an old novel? They knew one had gone because the shelf held a gap where no gap had been before.”
    â€œThat says it wasn’t a beloved novel, like Little Women —its absence would have been noticed,” said Helen.
    Carmine caught the gleam in Nick’s eye and got in first. “I estimate that we have a little over two weeks before the Dodo rapes again. If, that is, he sticks to his three-week cycle.”
    Helen jumped, suddenly very excited. “Captain, what if I set myself up as a lure? He might go for it.”
    The shake of Carmine’s head was emphatic. “You’re not thinking straight, Helen. This guy doesn’t choose at random, he’s working from a list he’s already drawn up. It’s not impossible that you’re on it, but nothing indicates that. He’ll know you’re a cop, and I would have said that’s not a profession he’d deem worthy of his attention.” He grinned. “Sorry, but it’s a fact.”
    She subsided. “Yes, Captain, you’re right.”
    â€œIf the Dodo also happens to be a Gentleman Walker,” Delia said, looking businesslike, “then he can’t be rostered for walking on an attack night. So I took all Mark Sugarman’s rosters and went through them.” She grimaced, revealing lipstick on her teeth. “No correlations, Carmine—not a sausage. I could have skimmed through the lot in less than thirty minutes if Mason Novak didn’t do a good half of them— untidy ! But there’s nothing to find, except that I suppose nothing is something.”
    Carmine grinned, black brows flying high. “Who’s a nothing that could be a something, Deels?”
    â€œSixty-one names that never occur on a Dodo night. However, some are bigger somethings than others,” said Delia, smiling. “I mention Mark Sugarman and his two companions—er … Arnold Hedberg and Gregory Pendleton, and Kurt von Fahlendorf and his two—Dapper Dave Feinman and Bill Mitski. The list is on your table. Would you like me to try fishing for alibis?”
    â€œFor the moment, no. It’s negative evidence at best, and the only guys who’ll be able to supply alibis are the diarists. Work with the victims, you have their trust.”
    â€œWhat about me?” Helen demanded.
    â€œYour schedule says you’re with Lieutenant Goldberg and the armed holdups,” said Carmine, sounding adamant. “It’s suddenly gone state wide and is being worked from Hartford with Lieutenant Goldberg in command, so it will be invaluable experience.”
    â€œWhat about you?” Helen asked, then bit her lip: it had come out far too insolently. Oh, damn cops and their armed services style protocols! Why couldn’t a person ask?
    No change in Carmine’s expression occurred, though Nick looked annoyed. “I have the Big Three to worry about,” he said levelly. “Sugarman, Novak and von