Free Naked Cruelty by Colleen McCullough

began to sit up straighter, murmur among themselves.
    â€œYou’ve saturated the district between six and seven-thirty,” Delia said, “which is particularly important now that the days are drawing in. Do women ever approach you to walk with them?”
    â€œThe last couple of days, yes,” Gregory Pendleton said.
    â€œThat’s a trend will increase,” Carmine said. “Believe me, the women of Carew are grateful for the Gentleman Walkers.”
    â€œIs there anything we can do to improve our technique?” Mark Sugarman asked.
    â€œYou could split into two shifts, the second one from seven-thirty until nine, but it’s not going to affect the Dodo.”
    â€œIs that his police tag?” Bill Mitski asked.
    â€œIt’s what he calls himself. Didus ineptus. The old Latin name for the Dodo. We’re using the English form, Dodo.”
    Mason Novak scowled, displeased. “The media will love it.”
    â€œTrue, and that carries some advantages, Mr. Novak. We’ll get publicity when we need it because the name is catchy. That may be why the Dodo picked it.”
    â€œHe’ll get publicity too,” said Arnold Hedberg.
    â€œIf by that you’re assuming the Dodo is a publicity hound, sir, you’re wrong,” Carmine said, fighting to remember his name. “The Dodo has been plying his craft in absolute secrecy for nearly seven months, which I think says loud and clear that he doesn’t want publicity. Maggie Drummond was a mistake, Professor Hedberg, but he had no way of knowing how brave she is. He couldn’t frighten her into silence. Now the police are aware of his activities, and his earlier victims have found the courage to speak up. Life is getting harder for the Dodo.”
    â€œShould we disband?” Mason Novak asked, despondent now.
    Carmine looked surprised. “Now why would any cop want to disband a gentlemen’s walking club? Haven’t I already indicated what a good job the Gentleman Walkers are doing? Let’s hear no more about disbanding, please.” He’s mercurial, Carmine was thinking as he spoke the soothing words; Mason Novak isn’t quite stable, but luckily Sugarman knows it, and can handle him.
    He spoke aloud again, but in a different voice: this one was stern, minatory, expressive. “I want all of you to remember one thing, sirs. The Dodo is not a peeping Tom, an underwear thief, or a simple stalker. He’s the big cat of sexual predators—cunning, awake on all counts, innovative, and silent . There’s a great deal more to him than meets the eye. The person his colleagues, friends and acquaintances know is usually impossible to associate with rape, torture and murder. I don’t mean that you ought to look at everyone you know differently, I mean that sooner or later this extinct bird will crash because of a small mistake. If you think you’ve found a contradiction in someone that plain doesn’t make sense, tell us.”
    â€œWhen may we see Maggie?” Arnold Hedberg asked.
    â€œNot for a while, sir. We’re taking her into protective custody. We don’t think she’s in any real danger,” said Delia, who looked like a barber’s pole tonight—diagonal red and white stripes, “more that there’s no virtue in taking chances.”
    â€œThe Chubb Medical School has one of the world’s top rape psychiatrists in Dr. Liz Meyers,” Carmine said as the meeting broke up some time later, “and she’ll be running a special clinic for the Dodo’s victims.”
    Kurt waited for Helen to come down from the podium.
    â€œI didn’t expect to see you,” he said, ranging himself alongside her as the crowd moved toward the door.
    â€œSince I’m a detective in the Captain’s own team, why wouldn’t I be here?” she asked in a discouraging tone. Now was not the moment for Kurt to assert ownership—in front of