Chapter 36
CHAPTER
With a satisfied groan, Soneji rolled off his wife around ten p.m.
He’d seen her scowl as they’d started to make love, but he didn’t care. He’d just turned her facedown so he didn’t have to see her dissatisfaction.
Missy got up without looking at him and went to the bathroom. He closed his eyes, expecting their evening together to be done.
He’d needed the release. He’d read the story about the DC cop who theorized that he was copying Berkowitz. PhD in psychology. Profiler.
It doesn’t matter, Soneji told himself. He’d mastered Son of Sam, and he was restless, ready to move on.
Now I just have to make it until Monday to—
“You are not going to sleep on me, Gary Murphy,” Missy said.
He opened his eyes, saw her standing at the foot of their bed, nude, arms crossed, rage flaring in her eyes.
“What now?” he asked. Blond cow, he thought.
“You come home, spend half an hour at best with Roni, then disappear into your office to do God only knows what. You didn’t even kiss your daughter good night, you shit. And then you just get in bed and jump my bones.”
Soneji gazed at Missy dispassionately, had a fleeting fantasy of killing her naked.
Everything she’d said was spot-on. He’d come home to their perfect suburban house, a two-story white brick gingerbread Colonial on Central Avenue in Wilmington, and played with his toddler daughter, but there wasn’t really a connection between them. At least, he hadn’t felt one. Ever.
And he’d had to go into his home office to phone the Charles School and see about more opportunities to substitute-teach in the coming week.
Headmistress Jenny Wolcott had gotten on the line herself and informed him that there were no subs needed at the Charles School, but she’d heard there might be a longer-term substitute position opening up at Washington Day School. A teacher there was going on maternity leave.
His response to Wolcott was noncommittal, but afterward he’d immediately researched the school. It was an elite private school, an academy that catered to the children of the powerful, the celebrated, and the wealthy.
The Washington Day School, he’d thought excitedly. It’s perfect. I mean, we’re talking Lindbergh-baby territory. Who knows who walks those hallowed halls?
He knew his real résumé would not be enough to score the gig.
He’d need academic credentials and references.
But luckily, he’d already created a fictitious background for Gary Soneji.
He had forged documents claiming he’d received undergraduate and graduate degrees from the University of Pennsylvania as well as letters of recommendation from three professors and the superintendent of a school system in Delaware.
He’d quickly written a cover letter and faxed copies of everything over to the school.
Then he’d left his office, wanting a drink and sex.
“Say something!” Missy shouted now, breaking into his thoughts. “This is not a real marriage any more than our wedding was real.”
“Okay, here we go!” Soneji shouted. “Our wedding was real. We have a marriage certificate, Missy.”
“It was shotgun,” she said, and she burst into tears. “No one but us and some drunk stranger for a best man. Everyone told me not to go through with it. And now you won’t even look at me while we make love.”
“Who wants to have sex with someone who’s always angry at them?” he spat back.
“I have reason to be angry! You’re gone all the time. And when you’re here, you’re Mr. Secrets.”
“I have a job with your family’s company that requires me to be on the road five days a week.
Ask your brother. But you know what? You’re right.
I’m sorry that I have to be gone five out of every seven days.
But that’s the job, and you knew it when I took it.
You encouraged me to take it, remember? I wanted to teach. ”
She said nothing.
“Remember?” he said again.
She shrugged and started to cry.
“Ah, Jesus,” he said, wanting to kill her again. “Now what’s the matter?”
“Since my dad passed last year,” she said, sniveling, “I’ve just been wanting to make it real, you know?”
“Make what real?”
“Our marriage, Gary,” she said. “I want a real wedding with all my friends and family and a beautiful reception. The way it should have been at the start.”
They’d met her senior year at the University of Delaware. He’d swept her off her feet and into bed within three dates. Three and a half years ago, after finding out she was pregnant, they’d eloped to Atlantic City.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“C’mon, Gary,” she said. “I know you hate crowds and all. But this will put us right, give us a new beginning.”
“You think having a big wedding is going to change things in our marriage?”
“It could be a start,” she said, wiping at her tears. “A restart?”
Soneji didn’t mind crowds as long as he was anonymous. But he did hate being the object of other people’s attention. Scrutiny made his skin crawl.
The members of Soneji’s own family were all long dead. But Missy had a huge extended family. Their tribal get-togethers always made him feel claustrophobic and cornered.
The idea of a wedding involving the entire Kasajian clan was sheer misery as far as Soneji was concerned, and he groped for a way out.
“But we don’t have the money for a big wedding. You know what I make.”
“My mother has money, and I’m going to inherit lots of it when she dies anyway. She could give me an advance on that.”
“You’ve talked with your mom about this?”
“A little.”
“And?”
“She’s for it,” Missy said, coming over and getting back into bed. “As long as you are, Gary.” She rolled into his arms. “Okay?”
He kissed her. “Tell you what—I’ll sleep on it.”
Missy stiffened as if to fight. He gazed at her neck, imagining what he could do to it if provoked further.
She sighed, shut her eyes, and rolled away from him, leaving Soneji with a different perspective on dear Missy’s neck. And in that moment, the student of homicide and kidnapping geniuses knew whom and what to study next.