The Tower

For a moment, Jade wasn't sure how to respond. Then he nodded his acceptance. "I know that you and Thomas want to help end this," he said. "However painful it may be, I'm going to need you to open up." Of course, he knew that what he really needed from them involved more than just "opening up," and he had a suspicion that Darby knew, too, but there was a sort of unspoken agreement between them to take things one step at a time.

They locked eyes for a long time as Darby thought. "I will help you," she finally said, "if you promise not to kill him. If you promise to bring him in alive."

Standing suddenly, Jade threw his arms up and walked away from Darby. "Jesus Christ!"

"Look, Jade, I think-" Travers said, but Jade waved her off violently.

He turned and approached Darby, his hands and voice shaking with intensity. "Do you know what that means for an investigation like this?" he asked. "It's like sending me into a war zone with my hands tied." He realized that he was coming dangerously close to pleading.

"Do I know what it means?" Darby asked coldly, her eyes indignant.

Jade's sigh sounded like a growl. He turned and walked toward the fireplace, having a heated dialogue with himself under his breath. He ran his hand through his hair, stopping to grip the top of his head with his fingers.

"Mr. Marlow," Darby said calmly to the back of his head. "I think we both know you don't have much choice. You need our cooperation. We might as well begin."

Jade turned around. "Fine," he said shortly. "Fine. I'll try to bring him in alive."

"You will not try to bring him in alive, Mr. Marlow. You will bring him in alive. Don't equivocate on that point."

"I'll bring him in alive," Jade repeated, feeling like a punished schoolboy.

Darby stood and approached him, her head cocked, looking deeply into his eyes, asking if she could trust him. "Do you promise?"

"What the hell? You have my word. You want me to swear on a Bible?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. She reached out and tapped the outline of the silver chain under Jade's shirt. "On this."

At first Jade thought she was joking, but her eyes were dead serious. He matched her expression and nodded solemnly. "All right." He glanced at Travers, who had a puzzled expression on her face. "I promise."

"His childhood," Darby said, picking up the conversation as if there had been no interruption, "was turbulent, often frightening."

"Let's start with physical disorders. Anything major?"

"No. He got sick a lot, but nothing serious. Just the flu and colds and things. He wet the bed until he was twelve. Does that count?"

Jade wasn't surprised. He knew from his training in psychology that many disturbed criminals had had bed-wetting problems when they'd been younger. Jade figured he'd probe further to see if anything else turned up.

He nodded. "Predictable. Any pyromania?"

Darby looked surprised. "Yes."

"And?"

"He liked to set things on fire," Thomas said. "Toys, shoes, branches. He'd sometimes get mesmerized by the flames and burn his hand. We thought it was all fairly normal 'boys-will-be-boys' behavior until-"

Darby shot him a glare and he stopped mid-sentence. He sat down on the fireplace with a small grunt and began tracing the pattern of the rocks.

"Until what?" Jade asked.

The Atlasias looked at each other. Thomas's eyes implored her to speak. "Honey," he said. "We talked about this."

"All right. Fine." Darby looked at Jade and forced a laugh. "We already agreed that if I could exact my promise from you, we'd try to help. More. More than we have in the past."

"I… well… good," Jade said dumbly. Travers looked at him affectionately. He could have killed her for it.

"So what happened?"

"I came upon him one time in the backyard," Darby said. "I remember I was all dressed up-a silk outfit. We were heading to the symphony benefit dinner. It's something we did every year as a family. It was really important to us, still is."

"And?" Jade asked impatiently.

"Just because we're trying to share these things with you does not mean they're easy, son," Thomas said. "Give her some time. She's-we're trying."

"We're sorry, Mrs. Atlasia," Travers said.

"Please, hon. It's okay," Thomas said to his wife.

"And what was he doing?" Jade asked.

"Well, he had cornered a squirrel on the porch, right against the house. I think it had a broken leg or something, and he-" She took a deep breath. "Allander," she said. "Allander had trapped it against the house." Her voice was getting shaky. She looked angrily at Thomas. "Oh, Jesus, do I really have to do this? Is it really so important to bring this up now?"

"It could be," Jade said. Virtually any childhood story might help him understand Allander better. But more important, it established trust with the Atlasias and got them talking. He was just paving the way.

"Sweetheart, please," Thomas said.