“I think he started out with one set of rules and then decided to change them.”

“His rules or someone else’s?”

“I think the rules were not his at first. Whoever behind the conspiracy to free Waddell first made the decisions. But this guy’s got his own rules now. Or maybe would be better to say that there are no rules now. He is cunning and he’s careful. So far, he’s in control.”

“What about motive?” I asked.

“That’s hard. Maybe it would be better for me phrase it in terms of mission or assignment. I suspect there’s some method to his madness, but the madness what turns him on. He gets off on playing with people minds. Waddell was locked up for ten years, then, suddenly the nightmare of his original crime is revisited. On the night of his execution, a boy is murdered in a sexually sadistic fashion that is reminiscent of Robin Naismith’s case. Other, people start dying, and all of them are in some way connected to Waddell. Jennifer Deighton was his friend. Susan was it appears, involved, at least tangentially, in whatever this conspiracy is. Frank Donahue was the prison warden and would have supervised the execution that occurred on the night of December thirteenth. And what is this doing to everybody else, to the other players?”

“I should think that anyone who has had any association with Ronnie Waddell, either legitimately or otherwise, would feel very threatened,” I replied. .

“Right. If a cop killer is on the loose and you are a cop, you know you may be next. I could walk out your door tonight and this guy’s waiting in the shadows to gun me down. He could be out in his car somewhere, looking for Marino or trying to find my house: He could be fantasizing about taking out Grueman.”

“Or me.”

Wesley got up and began rearranging the fire again.

“Do you think it would be wise for me to send Lucy back to Miami?” I asked.

“Christ, Kay, I don’t know what to tell you. She doesn’t want to go home. That comes across loud and clear. You might feel better if she returned to Miami tonight. For that matter, I might feel better if you went with her. In fact, everybody - you, Marino, Grueman, Vander, Connie, Michele, me - would probably feel better if all of us left town. But then who would be left?”

“He would.” I said. “Whoever he is.”

Wesley .glanced at his watch and set his .glass on the coffee table. “None of us should interfere with each other,” he said. “We can’t afford to.”

“Benton, I have to clear my name.”

“It is exactly what I would do. Where do you want to start?”

“With a feather.”

“Please explain.”