"Howard was an arrogant little bastard who thought the world revolved around him. Maybe he's grown up and changed; God knows I have but back in the day, he was a little piss head, always getting in fights, picking on little kids."
It was getting worse. I crossed my fingers, at least mentally, and asked, "Was he around when Annie was abducted?"
"Definitely. There was a big stink about it. His parents were out of town and instead of looking out for Annie; Howard was off drinking the entire night with some older buddies. He didn't come back until morning and there were police cars all over the place. The father beat him near to death, people said."
"They didn't suspect him, did they?"
He shrugged. "I guess if they did, his hoodlum pals gave him an alibi. Besides, the cops only had eyes for me, like the song says."
"Howie must have been devastated!"
"Howard; that's all he'd let you call him. That was just the start. What everyone did to him makes me think of what those Pennsylvania Dutch folks do; shunning is it called? He was an outcast, especially by his mother, though she wouldn't admit it. It was like he didn't live in the house."
I wondered if Howie's loss of memory had deeper roots than his later accident. How could someone change so drastically? I tried to recall the terms Quinn had quoted; dissociative fugue, fugue state, entirely different personality. I had no plans to share with Howie what I'd learned of his previous life.
It was strange sitting here, talking to a confessed rapist, with the sound of what was probably more of them eating dinner behind me. One of them might have even been responsible for Annie's murder.
"You said there were others the police should have questioned. Did you know some of them; the men who did what you did?"
"Rapist? Yeah; I was locked up with bunches of them, most just like me." He answered matter-of-factly, without any sense of embarrassment.
"When you say, 'most like me,' what do you mean?"
"I mean most of us raped women and that was it. Don't get me wrong; I'm not condoning what we did but there were others who were much worse; sicko guys who really hurt their victims; sometimes killed them. That was how they got off; not with sex."
"Was there one of them in particular you think might have been responsible for Annie's murder?"
Willard Humphries rose out of his seat and began to pace. "Funny you should ask. I gave a lot of thought to that question because of all the fingers pointing at me. I figured whoever did kill Annie; it wasn't his first, or his last. There weren't many candidates fitting that description."