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she was just
settling down. She had a good job- a publicist for a firm in Seattle.
Where she met James. She was just coming around."
"Coming around from what?" I asked.
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"Like I said- she was a free spirit. That was Kathy."
Her parents, Hugh and Christine Kogut, came into the room. I witnessed
the glazed, bewildered shock of people whose lives had been
shattered.
"She was always in and out of relationships," her mother eventually
admitted. "But she also had a passion for life."
"She was just young," her father said. "Maybe we spoiled her too much.
She always had an urge to experience things."
In her pictures- the wispy red hair and dare-me eyes- I could see the
same joy for life the killer had obviously seen in his first two
victims. It made me feel sad, weary.
"Do you know why I'm here?" I finally asked.
The father nodded. "To determine if there was any connection to those
other horrible crimes out west."
"So, can you tell me, did Kathy have any connection to San
Francisco?"
I could see a cast of grim recognition creep its way onto their
faces.
"After college, for a few years, she did live there," her mother
said.
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"She went to UCLA," her father said. "For a year or so she stayed in
Los Angeles. Tried to catch on with one of the studios. She started
out with a temp job at Fox. Then she got this publicity job in San
Francisco, covering music. It was a very fast life. Parties,
promotions, no doubt a lot worse. We weren't happy, but for Kathy, she
thought it was her big break."
She lived in San Francisco. I asked if they had ever heard of Melanie
Weil or Rebecca Passeneau.
They shook their heads.
"What about any relationships that might've ended badly? Someone, who
out of jealousy or obsession, might've wanted to do her harm?"
"Recklessness always seemed like a basis for Kathy's relationships,"
Hillary said with an edge.
"I did warn her." Her mother shook her head. "She always wanted to do
things on her terms."
"Did she ever mention anyone special from the time she lived in San
Francisco?"
Everyone looked at Hillary. "No. No one special."
"No one stands out? She lived there for a while. She didn't keep up
with anyone after she left?"
"I seem to remember her saying she still went down there every once in
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a while," her father said. "On business."
"Old habits are hard to crack." Hillary smirked, with a tightening of
her lips.
There had to be some connection. Some contact from the years she had
spent there. Someone came all the way here to see her dead.
"What about anyone from San Francisco invited to the wedding?" I
asked.
"There was one girlfriend," her father said.
"Merrill," said her mother. "Merrill Cole. Shortley, now. I think
she's at the Hilton, if she's still here."
I pulled out the artist's sketch we had of the killer's possible
appearance. "I know it's rough, but do you know this man? Someone who
knew Kathy? Did you see anyone like this at the wedding?"
One by one, the Koguts shook their heads.
I got up to go. I told them if anything came to mind, regardless of
how small or insignificant, to get in touch with me. Hillary walked me
to the door.
"There is one more thing," I said. I knew it was a long shot. "By
any chance, did Kathy buy her wedding dress in San Francisco?"
Hillary looked at me blankly and shook her head. "No, from a vintage
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shop. In Seattle."
At first, the answer deflated me. But then, in a flash, I saw that
this was really a connection I was looking for. The first two murders
had been committed by someone stalking his victims from afar. That's
why he found them in the way he did. Tracked them.
But this one, Kathy, she had been chosen in a different way.
I was certain that whoever had done this had known her.
Chapter57
I DROVE STRAIGHT TO THE HILTON on Lake Shore Boulevard and was able to
catch Merrill Shortley just as she was about to depart for the airport.
She turned out to be stylish, maybe twenty-seven, with shoulder-length,
chestnut brown hair tied back in a bun.
"A group of us were up all night," she said, apologizing for the
swollen lines around her face. "I'd like to stay on, but who knows
when they'll finally release the body. I have a one-year-old."
"The Koguts told me you live in San Francisco."
She sat on the edge of the bed across from me. "Los Altos. I moved
down two years ago, when I got married."
"I need to know about Kathy Kogut in San Francisco," I explained.
"Lovers. Breakups. Someone who might have a cause to do this."
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"You think she knew this madman?" Her face was clenched.
"Maybe, Merrill. You can help us decide. Will you help?"
"Kathy hooked up with guys," Merrill said after a pause. "She was
always free about things in that way."
"Are you saying she was promiscuous?"
"If you want to see it that way. Men liked her. There was a lot of
energy going on back then. Music, film. Alternative stuff. Whatever
made her feel alive."
I was getting the picture. "Does that include drugs?"
"Like I said, whatever made her feel alive. Yes, Kathy did
recreational drugs."
Merrill, though pretty, had the hard-edged face of a street survivor
who had remade herself as a soccer mom.
"Anyone come to mind who might've wanted to hurt her? Someone who was
overly fascinated? Maybe jealous when she moved on?"
Merrill thought a bit, shook her head. "I don't think so."
"You two were close?"
She nodded. At the same time, her eyes hooded.
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"Why did she move away?"
"She landed a great job. Must've seemed like she was finally climbing
the ladder. Her father and mother always wanted that. The Shaker
Heights thing. Look, I really have to catch a plane."
"What are the chances Kathy was running away from something?"
"You live the way we lived, you're always running from something."
Merrill Shortley shrugged and looked bored.
There was an attitude, a coldness about Merrill I didn't like. She
still surrounded herself with the cynical aura of a dissolute past. And
I had the suspicion she was withholding something. "So what'd you do,
Merrill? Marry the dime-bag mambo king of Silicon Valley?"
She shook her head. Finally, she smiled thinly. "Fund manager."
I leaned forward. "So you don't remember anyone special? Someone she
might've kept up with? Been scared of?"
"Those years," Merrill Shortley said, "I have a hard time remembering
anyone special at all."
"This was your friend," I said, my voice rising. "You want me to show
you what she looks like now?"
Merrill stood up, stepped over to the dresser, and began to pack a
leather bag with toiletries and makeup. At some point, she stopped and
caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Then she looked over her
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shoulder and caught my eye. "Maybe there was this one guy Kathy was
into. Big shot. Older. She said I'd know who he was- but she
wouldn't give me a name. I think she met him through the job. As I
remember, he was married. I don't know how it ended. Or who ended it.
Or if it ever did."
My adrenaline began to flow. "Who is he, Merrill? He might have [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]