“When you were young—after killing the half-dozen girls—did you and Gene stop killing for a while?”

“Gene did. He didn’t start again until he went after those rich cunts. But I lived in New York for a spell. I got around.”

“How many did you kill?”

“I don’t know. A few.”

“Did you always use a needle?”

“No. That was Gene’s thing. I cut them up. Whores, they were all whores.”

“Are you a graduate student in literature?”

“Yeah.”

“Were you also a chemistry major?”

“I have a master’s in chemistry, like my father.”

“You made the acid.”

“Gene wanted the stuff. I made it for him.”

“Did you kill your father today?”

“Yes. Smothered him.”

“Why?”

“He knew too much.”

“Did you try to kill Matt’s girlfriend last night?”

“The guy walked in on me. He was a tough sonofabitch.”

“Why did you want to kill Amy?”

“Gene told me to. He said she was no good.”

“You followed them from Amy’s house?”

“Yeah.” He acted bored. “It’s getting late.”

“What made Gene start killing again?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“He said it was because Julie had an affair with you.”

“That was why he did it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Michael was restless. He stood and waved his gun.

“I’m tired of these questions. We’ve got to move things along. You were hung up on where we put all the bodies. Now you get to hang with them. How do you want it? I can shoot you in the head or you can drown. It’s your choice.”

“How about you let me go?”

“That’s not an option.”

“Then I would prefer to drown. Are you going to kill Julie as well?”

“Yes. Got to do it.” Keeping the gun on her, he backed to a desk and pulled out a roll of duct tape. Using his teeth and his free hand, he yanked off a two-foot piece. “Stick out your hands.”

There was no point in arguing with him. His eyes had gone remarkably flat. He could have been a six-foot-tall insect for all the emotion he showed. He could shoot her in the head and not blink. She stuck out her hands. He was as skilled as his brother. He wrapped them tight without disturbing his aim. He went to cover her mouth and she shook her head faintly.

“That isn’t necessary,” she said.

“All right.” He glanced at Julie, who had toppled sideways on the couch. “I better take care of you first. Stand up. You run and I shoot you in the lower back. Then you die very slowly. Understand?”

She stood. “Yes.”