Resurrection Day (42 page)

The rain had eased. The dark woods were still lit by powerful arc lights, and a half-dozen more unmarked cars had arrived. The FBI teams had moved rapidly: forensic experts re-examining the crime scene, while a specialist group from the WMD unit got to work with their 'sniffer' equipment — hand-held chemical monitors probing the homicide scene and the surrounding woods for traces of chemical agents.

As the teams worked away in the drizzle, Collins sat in the front of the Ford, Morgan beside him, Kursk in the back. Collins had the map of Maryland out. 'OK, let's go over what we think we've got. After the Wentworth, the guy switches to a motorcycle, drives out here. Why? If he's got a safe house in or near the District, and he's sensible, he's going to head there after the shoot-out and stay low. So a detour all the way out to Maryland isn't exactly logical. Unless he's stashed something in the woods he needs to retrieve or check up on. Or else, for some other reason, he's decided to stop en route to wherever it is he's going. Which might mean the safe house he's headed for isn't in DC. You agree, Major?'

Kursk nodded. 'It's possible.'

'We figure the killer had a head start of twenty minutes before the alert went out. But the guy's a professional and he's going to be careful, because he doesn't want to attract attention to himself by speeding. So let's say he's doing sixty miles an hour, tops. That puts him out almost twenty miles from here, say even twenty-five, maximum, before the cops start looking for him. Where could that put us on the map, Lou?'

From his notebook, Morgan tore out a blank leaf of paper, folded it over neatly. Using the paper as a rule, he placed it against the map's scale, and with his pen marked off a line on the top and then one at the bottom of the paper. The four-inch gap between the two lines represented a scale often miles. Collins shone the torch on the map as Morgan used the paper rule to mark off four points, each point twenty-five miles distant from the Maryland woods, then ran his pen around in a circle, touching each of the points.

Collins tapped a finger on the enclosed circle. 'I figure there's a chance our guy's still somewhere in here.'

'We're talking about a pretty big area, Jack.' Morgan studied the map. 'All the way from southern DC in the north to Prince George's County in the south. And from Alexandria all the way out towards the Chesapeake coast.'

'The killer could have gone farther,' Kursk suggested. 'Or escaped the police search, or changed transport. You will need to check if any vehicles were stolen within the circle.'

'We'll do that,' Collins answered.

'Or he could have taken a bus, a taxi or train.'

'We'll check that out, too. And I'll have a bulletin put out on the bike, see if it turns up abandoned. But my guess is he was heading away from DC, otherwise why come this far? Unless he'd got a stash here somewhere in the woods that he needed to retrieve. The nerve gas maybe, or weapons, whatever.' Collins turned back to Morgan. 'We'll need to get lists of rental properties houses, apartments, even trailers — within the ring. Hotels, motels, guest-houses, too. These people could be staying anywhere. We'll keep it within the twenty-five miles to start with. Expand it out from there if we've no luck.'

Morgan looked despondent. 'That could take a long time, Jack. There's got to be thousands of rental properties alone, within a twenty-five-mile radius. Never mind hotels and stuff.'

'It's got to be done.'

'What about Islamic terrorist supporters, those living within the circle?' Kursk said.

'I'll have Murphy detail our people to go through the lists we've got, see what they can come up with. Doctors, too, with Middle Eastern or Chechen backgrounds.' Collins felt worn out, frustrated. It was another mammoth job, and Murphy would have to assign hundreds more men to carry out each of the tasks.

Kursk nodded beyond the rain-beaded windscreen, where the FBI teams were working the crime scene and searching the surrounding woods, the powerful beams from their torches knifing the darkness. 'I presume your men will let us know if the bloodstains are all from the victims?'

'Don't worry, Kursk, if there's any DNA trace suggesting that Gorev was here, we'll know about it.' Collins reached for his cellphone. 'I'll fill in Murphy, get things under way.'

'I sure could do with some rest. What do you think, Jack?' Morgan rubbed his eyes, exhausted. They had been working since eleven the previous night without sleep. Kursk had been awake even longer, almost forty-eight hours. Collins saw that the Russian could barely keep his eyes open.

'Soon as we're done here, we'll try and grab a couple of hours' rest.'

7.50 p.m.

'I got the feeling I was being watched after I left the office this evening.'

'Watched by whom?'

'I don't know, Nikki.' Stelman had a worried look as they sat in the booth in the Old Ebbitt.

'Then how can you be so sure?'

'About five, I'm heading home in my car. I notice another car following me close behind, a dark-coloured Chrysler sedan. Then it disappears in traffic and I don't think any more about it. Except ten minutes later I'm at home in my apartment, making coffee in the kitchen, when I glance down on to the street. I see a car parked opposite my apartment block. I'm pretty sure it's the same sedan. I see two guys inside. Then five minutes later, when I look again, the car's gone. So I go take a jog. I can't see the dark sedan anywhere. But jogging back I spot another car, parked farther up the street. Again, two guys inside. Like they're working a relay, watching me.'

'You didn't imagine it, Brad?'

'Nikki, I know what I saw. It was written all over these guys they looked like professionals, either cops or Feds. And let's face it, the Comish's little talk was a warning. For whatever reasons, imagined or otherwise, I was convinced those guys in the cars were there for a purpose. To keep tabs on me.'

Nikki paled, glanced nervously around the restaurant. 'Were you followed here?'

'They tried to, but I shook them off. Parked over in Chinatown, took the subway.'

'They really tried to follow you?'

'Damned right they did. I spotted them behind me on the way through Chinatown. That's when I decided to take the subway, they followed me down. It was the same two guys from the second car.'

'You're sure you lost them?'

'I'm sure, Nikki. I changed stations four times. The last time I saw them was at the Union, half an hour ago, just before I managed to lose them in the crowd. I changed lines twice again after that, to be certain.' Stelman tossed his fork down, his steak hardly touched, dabbed his mouth with his napkin. 'When I spotted the second car, I even began to wonder if my phones were being tapped. So I called you from a neighbour's phone. It's why I told you not to call me at home, just in case. I know it sounds like I'm being paranoid, Nikki. But I'm not, believe me. Just like I know now that you're not wrong about this. Something stinks.'

'I believe you.'

'The question is, where do you go from here?'

'I don't know.' Nikki frowned, shook her head. 'But there's got to be a story in it somewhere. And after what you've told me, my instinct tells me it could be a big one, some kind of conspiracy. Besides, there's something else I didn't mention.'

'What?'

Nikki explained about the army presence across the street from Daniel's preschool that afternoon. 'When I got home, I called the army public affairs office and got through to the Major Craig that the sergeant recommended I talk with. The major was polite, but he said he knew nothing about the exercise, which in his estimation probably meant it was no big deal. When I told him that I noticed the men were wearing no divisional flashes, and queried it, he asked for my name and number and said he'd get back to me by tomorrow if he found out something, or if he learned that the information was classified. But polite as he was, I got the feeling I'm not going to get anything out of him. I know when I'm being fobbed off.' Nikki paused. 'You're sure you don't know anything else about the police exercise, Brad?'

'Nothing other than what I've told you. And if there was something more ominous to it, the police brass are hardly going to tell me everything. I'm way down the chain, Nikki. Just a mouthpiece. Are you going to talk with your editor?'

Nikki thought about it, shook her head. 'No, I'll run with it alone for now. Until I've got something solid.'

'Look, Nikki, I know the last thing I need is to lose my job with the Met. But if you want me to help some more, I'll do it.'

'You've done enough already. I don't want you getting in any trouble.' Nikki smiled, reached her hand across and touched Stelman's affectionately. 'But thanks for the offer, Brad.'

'Still, if the Commissioner knows something — and I figure he's got to the way he reacted — then there's a good chance some of his senior officers know about it, too. Maybe I can dig around a little more.'

'Brad ... '

'I'm still a reporter, Nikki, remember?' Stelman smiled back. 'Curiosity goes with the territory. But don't fret, I'll be careful.'

'What about the men following you?'

'Let me worry about them.' Stelman wrote on a slip of paper, handed it across. 'That's my sister's number over in Arlington. If you need to get in touch, call that number, but don't call me at home or on my cellphone, just in case those guys really do tap my lines. I'll try to get back to you as quick as I can from a pay-phone. Which tack are you going to take?'

'I wish I knew. My boyfriend's with the FBI. I think I'll try and talk with him first. See if he knows anything.'

Stelman frowned. 'Why didn't you do that before now?'

'Jack and I have an unwritten rule, we never talk about his work. But he got a call last night to report to FBI Headquarters — it seemed pretty urgent — and I haven't seen or heard from him since. Now it's made me think. If the cops and the army are involved in whatever this is, probably the Feds are too. Maybe that's why Jack hasn't called. Maybe he's been caught up in it.'

'Do you honestly think he'd talk if he was?'

'I guess not. But Jack's a straight and honest guy. I'd know if he was trying to mislead me, or cover something up. Even that could be a start.' Nikki wanted to make the call to Jack there and then, but she'd wait until she got outside. She checked the time — 8.20 — and reached for her bag. 'I've got to go, Brad. My mom's got a bridge club game at nine she can't miss. She's looking after Daniel until I get back — I couldn't get a baby-sitter at short notice. Thanks again for your help. I owe you. Look after yourself, OK?'

As she reached for her purse, Stelman put a hand on hers. 'Dinner's on me.'

'Then the next time's my treat.'

Stelman gave a hopeful smile. 'I'll hold you to it.'

Nikki stood, gave him a peck on the cheek. Stelman's hand touched hers, his voice full of concern. 'Just be careful, Nikki. And if you think you're getting in too deep, or there's trouble, you call me, OK?'

Maryland 8.20 p.m.

'The tests were all negative.'

'So that means the stuff wasn't here?'

'No, just that we can't detect any evidence of chemical, Jack. It could have been so well sealed that there wasn't a chance of even the slightest leakage. With the kind of nerve gas we're dealing with, that's highly likely, unless these guys want to risk killing themselves instantly. It's usually kept in binary form, and if you ask me they've got the two components kept separate and hermetically sealed in special airtight containers, or something like toughened glass. Maybe both, so there's no risk.'

Collins listened as the agent from WMD explained the results of their search of the woods. Beside him stood another agent, a forensic technician. They were all huddled around the Ford, including Morgan and Kursk.

'So it could have been here?'

'If you're asking for a professional opinion, Jack, I'd say no. Apart from animal burrows, we didn't find any earth disturbed in the woods, no secret hiding holes where the stuff might have been stashed. Not yet, anyway. But we'll carry on searching.'

'What if they kept it around here, well sealed, maybe inside something like a camper, but moved it on?' Morgan directed his question to the forensic technician. 'They'd need four-wheel transport to move so much liquid weight, right?'

'We found some tyre tracks fifty yards from here, but we've pretty much established they belonged to the witness's fourwheeldrive. We didn't find any others, Lou, apart from the motorcycle.'

'Has any other evidence turned up?'

The technician shook his head. 'Zilch. The local guys did a pretty good job. Didn't miss a thing, far as we can see. We're only going over their ground. But we'll carry on, just the same. Let you know if we find anything.'

'Thanks.'

'Sure.' As the two agents moved away, Morgan climbed into the driver's seat, Kursk into the back. Collins joined them in the front. 'What now?' Kursk asked, his voice weary, heavy with lack of sleep.

'You've got me there, Major. There's not much more we can do tonight.' Collins stared over at the grim crime scene, then nodded to Morgan. 'OK, Lou, let's get out of here and get some rest.'

Ten minutes later, Collins' cellphone buzzed. They were on Highway 4, heading back towards DC, Morgan at the wheel, Kursk in the back, already dozing. Collins, trying to rest, jolted awake. He flicked on his cell, heard the familiar voice. 'Jack ... ?'

'Nikki ... sorry I didn't call, but I've been busy as hell ... '

'Jack, we need to talk.'

Collins heard the urgency in her voice, wondered whether it was some kind of emergency. 'What's wrong, Nikki? Are you OK? Is Daniel OK?'

'Daniel's fine, so am I. It's something else, Jack. But it's important. We need to meet tonight.'

Exhaustion flooded Collins' body. He ached for sleep, could barely stay awake, the highway lights a blur. 'Can't it wait until tomorrow, Nikki? I'm dead beat, honey. It's been a long day.'

'You sound like you haven't slept.'

'I haven't.'

'Since you left last night?'

'I guess not.'

There was a pause. 'I'm sorry for bothering you, Jack. I'm sure whatever you're doing has to be important ... '

Collins heard concern in her voice, then there was another pause on the line, and when he didn't answer Nikki came back. 'But it can't wait, Jack. It just can't.'

'Nikki ... please ... tomorrow. We'll talk tomorrow.'

'It's got to be now, Jack. It's got to be tonight,' Nikki insisted. 'I'll meet you anywhere you want, but it's got to be tonight.'

Washington, DC 8.15 p.m.