Once Shadows Fall (9 page)

J
ack disconnected and was sitting in the crime lab with Captain Kostner and Burt Wiggins. Ben Furman and his assistant had left to meet Beth and Pappas.

“Thanks for the offer, Burt. I think your people can handle it from here,” Jack said.

“Just not as quickly or efficiently as they could with you on board,” Kostner said.

“It’s just that I’m pretty tied up at the moment with my classes and this research paper I’m writing.”

“Demanding job,” Kostner said.

Jack’s eyes locked on the captain, who returned the look calmly. He then turned to Burt Wiggins and said, “I’m not sure I’d be a good fit. I left the FBI under—”

“We know all about the IA investigation,” said Kostner. “Anyone might have lost it under the circumstances. If it were me, I’m not sure I would have let Pell live. You did, and that says something about you. It’s ancient history. Do you really think the killer is going to stop now?”

A long pause ensued before Jack answered. “No . . . he’s just getting started.”

He glanced away and looked at the equipment scattered around the room. He didn’t want to be there. So why, as Wiggins asked, was he? Oddly, he felt composed. Breathing normal. No tightness in his chest. Mouth’s not dry. No desire to escape. So far, so good.

“So you just gonna walk away?” Kostner asked.

“It’s not that simple, Art,” Jack said. “I’ve been out of the profession for a long time.”

“Sure,” Kostner said. “It took you a whole five minutes to figure out the clues that prick left. Give it a while; your timing’ll come back.”

I’ll get you for that, Art. Nice move
.

Jack laughed to himself and was about to offer up a different argument when his eye fell once again on the department’s poster.

“Protect and Serve.”

He pushed the sleeves of his sport coat back, picked up Beth’s file, and sat down to read it.

*

It took the Emergency Response Team more than forty minutes to arrive on site via helicopter. They were led by a Sergeant Kowalski, who was big enough to be a pro wrestler. His head was shaven and his biceps filled his black shirt sleeves to the point of straining. The body armor he was wearing only made his chest seem larger.

Pappas explained the situation while the remaining six men in Kowalski’s squad spread out to make sure the dam was secure. The process took another half hour. When it was done, a corporal came back and reported.

“Everything’s good except for the front gate and the padlock down below. Someone blew ’em to hell.”

“I’m afraid that was me,” Beth said.

“Yes, ma’am. We sorta figured that. I called the base and told ’em to get a repair unit out here.”

Beth asked the sergeant, “Can you have one of your men open the outer door? I need to process the scene.”

Kowalski turned to the corporal and jerked his head toward a small concrete bunker at the end of the road where the computer control was located.

“Nasty business,” Kowalski said. “Both of you going in?”

“No choice,” Beth said.

“Yeah,” Kowalski said. “Give us a few minutes. You got some ear protection?”

“Why?”

“Once the door’s open, the siren goes off. It’s gonna be loud in that chamber.”

“We didn’t bring anything,” Beth said.

“Let me see what I can do.” Kowalski keyed the hand mic on his shoulder. “Brentano, go back to the chopper and bring me two com sets.”

*

Several minutes later, the warning siren began to blare, once again shattering the relative tranquility around them as the massive door slid open. It left a gaping maw that reminded Beth of a painting she’d once seen depicting the mouth of hell. Thanks to Sergeant Kowalski and the Corps of Engineers, she and Pappas were now wearing two headsets and were able to speak with each other. The units were effective at shutting out most but not all the noise.

As they entered the chamber, she saw there were still several inches of water present in the room. Muttering to herself about ruining a good pair of shoes, Beth nodded to Pappas and stepped in. The shock of cold hit her immediately, but she gritted her teeth and kept going.

Why didn’t I stay in anthropology?

Pappas’s voice came over the headset.

“You still want in first?”

“Yeah,” Beth said. “I can see her hanging from the pipe. I’ll take the vic, then walk the grid. You check the entrance to see if anything might have hung up.”

“Fat chance,” Pappas said.

“I know.”

With the siren continuing its mournful blasts, Beth looked around and took several photographs of the victim. She wanted to cover Sandra, but there was nothing to do it with. Inside, the noise was magnified tremendously, bouncing off the walls, making even thinking difficult.

Sandra Goldner hung by her arms from a pair of old-style handcuffs.

She was a tall woman with limp blonde hair. The worst part were her eyes. Beth’s mind began to play tricks thinking that they were following her. She shook off the feeling and continued a methodical inspection. Pappas was right. The rising water had swept away anything useful. All she wanted to do was finish her search and get the hell out of there before she threw up. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and approached Sandra Goldner, gently shutting the woman’s eyes. At nearly the same time, the siren ceased its dirge, startling both her and Pappas.

Kowalski’s voice came over her headset. “Hope that helps. One of my guys figured out how to kill the noise.”

“It does,” Beth said. “Thanks.”

“Your ME and crime tech just showed up. Want me to send ’em down?”

“Give us five minutes,” Beth said. “I’m about to examine the body.”

“Jeez,” Kowalski said. “Will do.”

Now that the noise was gone, she and Pappas pulled off their com units and draped them around their necks. Beth then carefully checked under the victim’s fingernails and then moved on to her hair, combing it for any trace evidence that might have survived the water.

Pappas commented on the scorch marks on Sandra Goldner’s shoulder. “The fucker Tasered her.”

Beth nodded. She took a photograph and continued examining the body. Without warning, a deep groan coming from under the rear door froze both detectives. Beth and Pappas looked at each other.

“I know,” he said. “Place gives me the creeps, too. You finished?”

“Pretty much.”

“Let’s get outta here.”

“What about the cuffs?” Beth said. “I don’t want to leave her like this.”

“Neither do I, but my key won’t work and neither will yours. The cuffs are too old. We’ll have to cut ’em.”

“Wonderful,” Beth said.

T
he killer closed the book he was reading, shut his eyes, and leaned back in his chair. The Mayans had it right. At least this particular sect of their society did. They were called the Eaters of Souls. When a vanquished enemy fell into their hands, the body was dismembered and the pieces passed around to be eaten. The heart was saved for the shaman and the chief. Not really a novel concept. Religions around the world practiced simulated rituals like it every week. Of course, he would never dream of eating anyone. That would be barbaric. Still, the name intrigued him.

The real key was to be in complete control of another human being. To decree whether they would live or die and how. That, he decided, was a rough equivalent of owning their soul.

“Eater of Souls,” he whispered, savoring the phrase, as he ran his fingers over the book. “
Eater of Souls
.”

Still too long. He needed a better name. Something catchy.

The killer smiled.

Soul Eater
. Now that had a nice ring to it.

The killer picked up a little bottle of medicine from the end table next to him and tilted the clear liquid first one way and then the other. Alongside it lay two hypodermic needles and his favorite toy. The Taser was quick, quiet, and efficient. Also on the table were two scalpels. He would have preferred an obsidian flake knife. It was far sharper than any of the new instruments, but sad to say, they were not readily available and their edge began to degrade in the air after twenty minutes or so. It would be nice to try it one day. Traditions were important.

*

“We were so close,” Beth said. “So close. I could see her.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Pappas said. “There was nothing we could have done.”

Beth shook her head and took a sip of the rum and Coke in front of her.

Han Lo’s wasn’t crowded at that hour. Sooner or later the little Chinese restaurant on Buford Highway would fill up with cops. It was Jack’s first visit and he liked it, though no one would ever accuse the owner of putting in too much atmosphere. According to Pappas, the décor hadn’t changed in thirty years and was basically straight out of the seventies. At most there were twenty tables. No tablecloths. Paper napkins. The menu was written on a chalkboard that sat on a chair near the cash register and was basically whatever Mrs. Lo decided to cook that day. A pupu platter consisting of egg rolls, satay chicken strips coated with peanut sauce, and some tempura shrimp and vegetables occupied the middle of their table.

On returning to the office earlier, Captain Kostner informed them Jack would be joining the investigation and that Pappas had been reassigned as Beth’s partner until Leonard Cass was off medical leave. They both received the news well. At least Pappas did. As a detective lieutenant, Jack now technically outranked each of them, which may have accounted for Beth’s cool attitude toward him at the moment. She was pleasant enough, though somewhat distant. It was obvious she wasn’t happy with the situation. Jack wasn’t sure why. Hadn’t she asked him to help? Pappas didn’t seem to care one way or the other.

Beth met his eyes across the table and responded with a perfunctory smile. There were few things, he thought, colder than the icy smile of a beautiful woman.

Beth said, “I’m going out to Mayfield tomorrow to interview Howard Pell, if that’s all right with you.”

“You don’t need my permission,” Jack said. “It’s still your case.”

“Not according to Captain Kostner.”

Time to fix this
, Jack decided.

“Beth, it’ll be your case and your collar,” he assured her. “I’m just here to help.”

“Probably work to your benefit,” Pappas added.

“How’s that?” Beth asked. “One minute I’m in charge of an investigation, my first as a lead since I joined the department, the next I’m taking orders from our new consultant.”

Pappas took a long breath and let it out. “You’ve got a lot to learn, rookie.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so,” Pappas said. “Kostner isn’t operating alone. There’s a reason Burt Wiggins showed up with him.”

“I don’t get it,” Beth said.

“Think it through. Kale comes out of retirement to help nail this asshole. If he succeeds, great. He’s still a consultant and the department takes the credit for their brilliant move. If we fall flat on our faces, he gets it in the neck.”

Beth looked at Jack, who sat there silently.

Pappas continued, “That’s one reason Chief Ritson wants him to be our front man with the press. It’s a sure bet the story’ll hit the papers sooner or later.”

“I know, but—”

“Ritson’s protecting the department,” Jack said. “He knows it. I know it. And he knows that I know it.”

“But you took the job anyway,” Beth said.

“The killer’s just warming up. If we don’t stop him, more people will die.”

Beth stared at him for a long moment and then at Pappas who raised his eyebrows.

“Shit,” she said. “You must think I’m a bitch.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” Jack said and took a sip of his club soda.

Beth responded by slowly raising her middle finger then excused herself to go to the ladies’ room.

“Well, that went well,” Jack said.

“She wants to prove herself,” Pappas said.

Jack nodded. Both men sipped their drinks quietly for a time and then turned to watch a waitress in a short, black skirt lean across a table to collect some glasses.

Jack said, “Leering is frowned upon in a man of your position.”

“Yeah? So what were you doing?”

“Checking for concealed weapons.”

Pappas chuckled and clinked his bottle against Jack’s glass. “You gonna be able to manage the investigation with your teaching?”

“I took a leave of absence,” Jack said. “Our dean thinks it will bring credit to the university.”

“Let’s hope.” Pappas paused for a beat, then asked, “Mind if I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not in this for the money. And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the glamour of the job that brought you back.”

“Hardly,” Jack said.

“So, just between us, why are you here?”

Jack took a small sip of his soda and then set the glass carefully down on his coaster and centered it.

“The easy answer is I don’t like not knowing.”

“Not knowing what?” Pappas said.

“Who the killer is. Why he’s killing people. Why he’s leaving clues. Why he decided to imitate Howard Pell. The more I think about it, the longer the list gets.”

Pappas digested this for a moment.

“All right,” he said, “that makes sense. How ’bout the hard answer?”

Jack ran the tip of his forefinger around the rim of his glass and didn’t reply immediately. The pause seemed to stretch before he continued.

“When you were in uniform, you ever work an accident?”

“A few.”

“What’s the first thing you did if there was a crowd?”

“Told everyone to keep back. Sometimes I’d have one of them run for a blanket. Maybe call for a doctor if they could get there before the EMTs.”

“In other words, you followed your training and took control of the situation.”

“Sure.”

“You directed people to do certain things, because if you didn’t, they would just stand around believing someone else was taking care of the problems.”

“I guess so.”

“That’s human nature. Psychologists have a fancy name for it,
diffusion of responsibility
, but it comes down to this: people always assume the other guy is doing what needs to be done. That’s rarely the case.”

“No argument from me,” Pappas said.

“And if someone doesn’t take responsibility, things start to unravel,” Jack said.

“Like how?”

“How we choose to live,” Jack said. “Society has a structure—some of it good, some of it bad. The bottom line is what you see when you look in the mirror each morning—one of the crowd, or someone who’s there to stop a predator. When people ignore who they are, they’re just
fooling themselves. Most of the time it doesn’t work out. You do what you’re put here to do.”

Pappas nodded and didn’t interrupt.

“A doctor pal of mine asked why I didn’t tell Beth no when she shanghaied me up to the farm. I didn’t answer him at the time, but I gave it some thought and concluded that’s what I was doing—trying to ignore who I am.”

“Mirror’s a tough critic,” Pappas said.

“Very,” Jack replied.

“Glad you’re in,” Pappas said, holding out his hand.

“Thank you,” Jack said as they shook.

The detective’s next question wasn’t entirely unexpected. Jack was tempted to tell him he said only one question when they began.

“Are there any . . . ah, issues I should know about?”

“Not really,” Jack said.

“There was some stuff in your file about separating from the feds for medical reasons.”

When he got no response, Pappas held his hands up in a peace gesture and said, “I’m not tryin’ to get in your business. It’s just I don’t need you droppin’ dead of a heart attack or something in the middle of the case.”

“You can rest easy. It’s nothing to worry about. You have my word.” He then shifted the topic and asked, “What’s the story with Detective Sturgis?”

“Everybody in the department had the same question. You ever hear of William Camden?”

“The author?”

“She was married to him. Normally, she doesn’t say much about herself.”

“Understandable. She seems like a private person.”

“She worked for some fancy travel magazine up in New York as an editor or something. I don’t know. Her dad’s a cop up in Charlotte and a real decent guy. I’ve met him a couple of times. So no big deal for a kid to follow in her father’s footsteps, right?”

“Sure.”

Pappas took a sip of his drink.

Jack said, “That’s the official version, right?”

Pappas glanced around before he continued. “I hear she had a baby sister who hanged herself. Apparently, the kid was bullied in school
pretty bad. Beth was the one who found her. She was like fourteen at the time. I figure that had something to do with it.”

An image of what that must have been like flashed into Jack’s mind. He shook his head to clear it.

“She told you that?”

“She told Lenny Cass. That’s her regular partner. Poor schmuck’s laid up recovering from a hernia operation. Sometimes you tell your partner stuff you don’t tell anyone else. Keep it quiet, okay?”

Jack told him he would.

“Bottom line is she’s a little rigid in her views but she comes down on the right side of things,” Pappas said.

“How do you know it’s the right side?” Jack asked.

“That’s the side I’m on.”

Jack nodded. “So she became a cop.”

“Did real good at the academy, I’m told. Smart as a whip.”

“I can see that. We’ll need all the help we can get. She mentioned she’s new to Robbery-Homicide.”

“Also true,” Pappas said. “You’re on probation for six months after you transfer. Before landing here, she was making cases against polluters and toxic dumping in Environmental Enforcement.”

Jack screwed up his face.

“Right,” Pappas said. “That’s why she’s so hot to prove herself.”

“And right out of the box, she gets stuck with me as the APD’s poster boy. I can see why it doesn’t sit well.”

Pappas lifted his beer bottle in a toast.

“Crap,” Jack said. “I’ll make sure she gets credit for everything.”

“Proving you belong to the bosses is one thing. Proving you belong to yourself is something else.”

“For a big dumb jock, you’re pretty insightful.”

“I have my moments.”

They broke off their conversation as Beth returned. Several men at the bar tracked her progress.

“You boys have a nice talk?” she said.

“Yeah,” Pappas said. “We bonded.”

Puzzled, Beth frowned and looked at Jack.

“There’s something I’d like to ask you,” he said.

“Okay.”

“What were you feeling when you were at the scene?”

“Feeling?”

“Right. What was going through your mind?”

Beth glanced at Pappas to make sure she wasn’t the subject of a joke. The detective raised his shoulders. Around them, the murmur of conversations and restaurant sounds blended into a white noise.

A long moment passed before she said, “I remember feeling sad.”

“Why sad?”

“That piece of dress we found in the pipe. It was a cocktail dress. I thought it was so sad that she went out hoping to have a nice time and it ended like this.”

“And what else?”

Beth frowned. “There’s nothing to base this on other than your comment that we might not be alone, but that just brought it together for me. As soon as you said it, I definitely had the feeling we were being watched.”

The seconds seemed to stretch as Jack held her eyes.

“I need you to keep right on thinking that way every minute until this case is over. We’re dealing with an incredibly dangerous individual. Do not let your guard down even for an instant.”

Beth and Pappas looked at each other.

“Are you trying to scare me?” Beth asked.

“Absolutely.” There wasn’t the slightest trace of humor in his face when he said it.