“You were a baby when your mother died. You were not directly affected by the trauma she caused your father.”

“You’re asking why I don’t mind killing?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if Gene would want me telling you that shit.”

A revealing remark. He only did what his brother allowed.

“Gene won’t mind you talking to a dead woman,” she said.

He snickered. “All right, shoot. What’s your question?”

“Your childhood. How did your brother influence you? What kind of stuff did you guys do together?”

“You mean, weird stuff?”

“Yeah. Did you torture animals? Other kids?”

“Sure.”

“Tell me about it. Tell me about the kids. When was the first time?”

He scratched his head. “I was about six. There was a girl who lived two blocks over. Her name was Brenda—she was ten or eleven. Gene and I talked her into going to an abandoned barn with us. She was kind of wild. I think she wanted to kiss my brother. Anyway, when we got to the barn Gene slapped her around a bit and then we did her.”

“What did you do to her?” Gene would have been sixteen at the time.

“We fucked her and then we killed her.”

“You were six. How did you fuck her?”

His eyes flashed with anger. “That’s none of your business.”

“How did you kill her?”

“Stuck a needle filled with vinegar in her heart.”

Kelly repressed a gasp. She had not forgotten the needle in her pocket. But she had overlooked it while driving to the house, preoccupied as she was with her analysis of the Acid Man’s psyche. The cap had fallen off, and as a result, the metal portion of the syringe had punctured the bottom of her pocket and was now pressing against her bare leg. The half-filled plunger was still in her pocket. Had the needle not poked through the material and sunk deep into her pocket, Michael—Scott—probably would have noticed it.

“How many girls did you kill?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Six or seven. Usually, Gene would borrow our dad’s car and put their bodies in the trunk. We brought them here. We weighed them down and dumped them in the pond. That’s why Gene bought this property when he got older. It had been abandoned for some time.”

“Did Gene dump the five women he killed with acid out there?”

“Sure.”

Kelly understood. Gene had refused to reveal the whereabouts of the bodies because it indirectly pointed a finger at his brother, who refused to leave the land.

“Did you ever stick a needle in a girl yourself?” she asked.

“He let me when I got a little older.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Sure.”

“Gene taught you that it was a fun thing to do?”

“It was fun. He didn’t have to teach me.”