Doctor." Cole took a deep breath and rose from the chair. "I believe it would be more dignified if I go to the station. Will you drive me?"
"Do you remember killing Bob Kirk?"
"They are looking for someone who buries his victims then forgets them." He tapped the pocket with the tape cassette. "I believe that is my pattern. Shall we go?"
*****
Cole saw Henry Chancellor in his office plucking index cards off a bulletin board labeled Person or Persons Unknown.
The detective who had admitted them to the outer office called out, "Hey, Chancellor, someone here for you."
Chancellor's head whipped round, then jerked back, a double take that would have put Ray Romano to shame. "Brewer! What the hell? And hand in hand with your psychiatrist? What goes here?"
"I've come to turn myself in."
"For what? Bizarre behavior at a funeral? Living in sin with your sweetie? Scoot along home and make your confessions to your shrink. I got more important things on my mind."
"Living in sin?" Brewer repeated, looking a bit muddled by the phrase. "No. No, I'm here about Bob Kirk's murder."
"Yeah? What about it? Have you dredged some memory from that fogbound brain of yours? Let's have it." He reached for a blank index card and his felt tip pen to record the information. "I'll add it to the stack."
"I did it. I killed him."
"What?" A blob of ink oozed onto the card. Chancellor ripped it in half and reached for another
"I murdered Bob Kirk."
"I see." Popping the top back on his pen and tossing it in the side drawer, he rooted for a sharpened pencil stub in the clutter. "And could you describe how the hell that happened? Was that before or after he beat you to a bloody pulp?" He abandoned his search for a functional pencil and stood. "Just a second, let me get a scribe over here. You sure you don't want to have a lawyer here with you, or does this shrink of yours double as a shyster?"
"I'm here because I drove Mr. Brewer here." The doctor drew himself to his full height, which brought him to about Chancellor's breast pocket. "I do not accept or condone what he is doing."
Chancellor motioned him over to the water fountain and leaned over to whisper loud enough for half the room to hear, "Yeah, well, that makes two of us. What's the matter, Doc, you got no better control of your patients than this? Why don't you take him home and work on him a little longer? He don't look like he belongs out in public yet."
Cole knew he looked more than a bit harried and wild-eyed, his face drained of all color except for the green, yellow, and purple rays that radiated across his jaw from the bruise behind his ear.
Chancellor studied him a moment. "Potts, get in here. Bring a pad."
When they were all settled around a table in an interrogation room, Chancellor leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "Okay, Brewer, 'fess up."
Brewer's voice was calmer and steadier than he had expected. "I killed Bob Kirk. We had an argument. We fought. I punched him. And he fell."
"That's it?"
"More or less."
"How about more? What did you hit him with?"
"My fists." Brewer had them clenched on the tabletop. Chancellor wasn't impressed.
"And?"
"And. And a brick from the alley."
"What did you do with this brick when you were done with it?"
"Threw it in a trash bin."
"Anything else?"
"I dragged his body to the cemetery and I buried it."
"How did you get into the cemetery?"
"Under the fence. The dogs must dig."
Chancellor nodded in agreement. "They must, I guess. It's in the nature of dogs. Can you show us this spot where the dogs dig."
"If I can find it again."
"You found it okay that night. In the dark. Beaten half dead. Dragging a body that must outweigh you -- by what -- forty pounds, at least. And the shovel, don't forget the shovel. Where did you get the shovel, by the way?"
"In the garage. It was in the garage."
"Kirk's garage?"
"The one behind his house, yes."
"Could you describe the shovel?"
"What? It was metal, with a wooden handle."
"Very apt. I know just the one you mean now. We'll mark it exhibit one. Go on."
"That's about it. I tried to get away but I didn't make it. I collapsed into the ditch where they found me."
"And did your wife -- did Teresa Kirk know anything about any of this? We know she's not your wife by the way, in case I