“The court case was only about one child, Dany Cavrol. The prosecution usually chooses only one victim even if there are several.”
Eve’s gaze was on the photos in front of her. “Which one is she?”
“None of them. Dany lived in Marseilles.” He reached out and flipped several pages of the album. “This is Dany. I think they chose her because she had a wistful appeal. The bastards wanted to make sure the jury crucified Kevin.”
A newspaper from Marseilles, France, and the little girl couldn’t have been more than five. Dany had tight dark curls framing her thin, solemn face. She was heartbreakingly adorable.
“You see?” Doane asked. “Kevin didn’t have a chance.” His voice was harsh. “Dany’s father, General John Tarther, set it up. What the hell did he care about the kid? She was illegitimate and lived with her aunt. Her mother signed the kid over to Tarther and left for London. Tarther made payments for Dany’s upkeep but rarely came to see her. Kevin thought it was safe to take a chance on punishing Tarther for getting in his way while he was working with the al-Qaeda in Pakistan. And it should have been safe for Kevin. Who would know that Tarther would go crazy? But Tarther stirred everyone up. He hired detectives to find out who had killed Dany. Then he flooded the media with photos and stories, bribed politicians.”
“How inconvenient,” she said unevenly. “Love isn’t necessarily governed by legalities.” She couldn’t look at the picture of Dany Cavrol any longer. She was too beautiful. The thought of that ugliness touching her was too painful. “You skipped a lot of pages to get to Dany. What’s on the other pages?”
“Oh, much the same. Naples, Istanbul, Liverpool. Do you want to see them?” Doane said. “This is the only one that’s at all important. The only case where they charged Kevin.”
“And they executed him?”
“No, Blick managed to bribe a witness, and the case was declared a mistrial. Kevin escaped when they were taking him back to jail. I was so happy. I’d arranged a place for him where he’d be safe until he was ready to take charge of his life again.” His lips twisted. “But I never saw him again. Tarther sent his bloodhound after him.”
“Bloodhound?”
“Zander.”
“A detective?”
“Detective?” His laugh was harsh. “A killer. Tarther called my Kevin a killer, but then he sent that snake after him and told him to make sure that Kevin never faced another judge who would let him go free.” He was looking down at the album, but Eve knew he wasn’t seeing it. “Kevin and I had arranged to meet in Athens. I’d hired a captain to take us to Istanbul. Kevin had contacts with a terrorist group who operated out of there. He never showed up, never met me. Blick called me and told me that Kevin had been shot in an alley near the wharf. Zander butchered him.”
“How do you know who did it? A child killer has a world of enemies. Anyone in that courtroom would have been enraged when Kevin was let loose without being punished. I probably would have killed him myself.”
“Yes, you would. Because you’re like Zander, aren’t you? Filth. Pure filth.”
Ignore insults, find out as much as you can. The more she learned, the more weapons she had against him. “Blick knew who killed Kevin?”
“No, Kevin was picked off by a shot from a shop across the alley. It was an excellent shot. Straight to the heart. Zander’s so good he didn’t bother with a safe head shot. Blick ran like a scared rabbit, but he crept back later and saw Kevin being picked up by Nalaro Crematorium.” His lips twisted. “I didn’t get there before the funeral director, Guido Nalaro, threw Kevin into his damn furnace, but I saved Kevin’s skull.” He paused before he added with grim malice, “And I threw Nalaro into the furnace to keep Kevin company and burn with him.” He shrugged. “I shouldn’t have done it. I was in a rage, and I wasn’t thinking of anything but Kevin. I should have waited to kill Nalaro until after I’d questioned him about the man who murdered my son. I ransacked his office afterward, but I couldn’t find any clues to who had done it.”
“Then how did you find out it was this Zander?”
“It took years. I couldn’t move right away. When I thought it was safe, I sent Blick back to Athens and told him to question Nalaro’s family. I’ve always found that sometimes you can get what you want by going through the people surrounding the prey. Nalaro was a secretive bastard, and his wife and children didn’t know anything about his being bribed to get rid of the body or who bribed him. But his father knew, and Blick found out. Would you like to know what Blick did to him to make him give us Zander’s name?”