Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix (20 page)

“This man you are after,” the doctor continued, “from what I can tell he does not identify with the entire victim, just the parts he likes about the person, in the same way that a man with a foot fetish cares little about the appearance of the person, he’s just interested in their feet.”

“Ok, Doc,” Tooms replied. “Given this information, where do we start looking?”

The strange medical man turned to them. McCall could sense that an idea was blooming inside that thin skull of his.

“Check men who work at beauty salons and anywhere that guys might have had contact with our victims, especially situations where he could see them partially dressed.” The doc moved closer to the board, and a strange look crossed his pale face that was almost sadness, or perhaps it was remorse.

“You’re looking for someone who has been fixated by the victims for a long time, even years maybe. Look at co-workers who may have played sports with them on occasions. Anyone who has seen them in the flesh. Judging by our victims’ lifestyles that list should be quite short.”

Tony raised a hand once he had jotted the information down. “What about the kid the sister was talking about?”

The doctor’s eyes still stared at the photos of the women as they had been in life.

“It may be a lead, OK, go for it,” McCall instructed him, then turned to the Davidson. “Nice job, Doc,” she said with a smile, the first proper smile she had given him. He returned the smile, but she wished he had not.

It sent a shiver shooting through her spine.

The midday sun burnt brightly, but in the homeless shelter it was cooler. The empty old school building was now was home to the lost, the destitute or those who just didn’t-want-to-be-found. Raggedy people scuffled here and there just to find a hot meal, a bed for the night or both.

The queue for food was long and the seating places in the dining hall were getting shorter, but still, for them even a place on a clean floor could be considered a relief.

Eric and George were buddies, they had seen many cold winters and blazing summers together, and in this world they lived in, a friend to watch your back was never a bad thing. The pair had endured much but still managed to keep cheerful.

“So, have we got another job coming up, Eric?” asked the stockily-built George, as he moved along the queue. George was smaller than Eric was but his build was more that of steel worker: his many years in the navy had given him some bulk. He had seen many wondrous places in far off lands; however, after his life in the services he’d fallen on hard times, and now he roamed the open road with his pal.

“No. It’s kinda strange we haven’t heard from him, don’t you think?” replied Eric. He spoke and carried himself well. In his former life he’d been a distinguished surgeon, but he had succumbed to the urges of drug addiction and lost everything: his job, his wife and kids, everything. Eric was a tall skinny man with brushed back, receding hair; his long thin face was noticeable for its long Roman nose and large mouth, whose broad smile could crack his face apart.

“Shame, we sure could have used the money, oh well,” Eric said, straightening his filthy red tie. Even though he was down-and-out he still insisted on wearing a suit. George found this strange, but Eric had never done him wrong and now he hardly noticed his friend’s eccentricity.

“Work, did I hear you say?” They both turned to find a bearded hunchback next to them, asking a question.

“What of it?” Eric addressed the stranger. “And it is most impolite to eavesdrop, sir, now be gone with you.” Eric turned back to his friend, and the bulky hunchback, who was almost the same height as George, moved a little closer, cupping his hands together, as if he was asking for forgiveness.

“Please, sir, I meant no disrespect to you or your friend, it’s just the thought of work excited me so much, apologies,” The newcomer said.

Eric turned and gazed upon the man who had spoken so politely. His speech had touched something within him.

“You spy upon me, Sir,” continued the man, “as though you wonder what a man of such disposition can possible do for work, but I assure you sir I am as strong as an ox.”

Eric considered things for a moment, patting his bottom lip with a raised index finger. “If we want you to help us, where can we locate you?”

“Under the Williamsburg Bridge, it’s nice and dry there.”

The queue moved forwards.

“Again, I’m sorry,” said the hunchback offering a hand to shake. “I am Pat.”

Eric shook his hand, noting the firmness of his grip.

“This is my work colleague and friend, George, and I am Eric,” he said. The thinner man gave Pat a large smile that chilled him to the bone. They had reached the food serving area at last and held out their trays, awaiting whatever delights were on offer.

“OK Pat, welcome aboard,” announced Eric. This time his grin held something different, something sinister.

THIRTY-SIX

McCall’s phone started to ring. Still looking at the monitor she picked up the receiver and hooked it between her head and right shoulder.

“McCall, Homicide, can I help you?” She spoke as she typed something into the database about one of the vics.

“McCall, it’s Steel.”

The phone almost dropped from her grip at the sound of his voice.

“Steel! Where the....?”

“Look, I got a tip,” he interrupted her. “Something is going down under the Williamsburg Bridge tonight to do with the killings. So I would suggest you come heavy and silent.” And with that he was gone, leaving her looking down at the receiver.

Her heart was racing. Was she falling for this guy, she wondered? “No,” she thought to herself. “Don’t even think it.”

She waved to her two colleagues to follow her and they went in to see the Captain. Captain Brant waved them in as McCall knocked on the door. As they entered they waited for him to finish his phone call.

“What’s up, Detective?” he asked, putting down the receiver.

“Steel just contacted me and said he had a tip something was going down under the Williamsburg Bridge tonight. Something connected with the killings,” she said, shifting her posture.

“So do you think he has something?” the Captain asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I hate to admit it, Sir, but he has come up with some useful information at times, so yes I think there may be something to it.”

Captain Brant nodded to himself, realizing that she had made the right call.

“One more thing, Sir,” she said, as she was just about to leave.

“Yes Detective?”

“He suggested we go in heavy and silent.” The Captain looked worried.

“Do what you got to, McCall.” He frowned. Knowing about Steel’s past as he did, his words probably meant that the shit really was about to hit the fan.

THIRTY-SEVEN

The night air was still and cloudless, and the sky was a dark blanket of twinkling beauty. Under the vast metal construction of the bridge sat a hunchbacked man in front of a small fire. As he sang to himself, he poked the fire, causing the flames to rise, and embers to spew up and be carried on the slight breeze like fireflies.

McCall and the SWAT team moved in, and Tooms and Tony followed in behind her. Suddenly the team leader went down on one knee and raised his left fist. The others went to ground, disappearing into cover.

“What’s wrong?” asked McCall softly. The point man indicated a package on the small wall next to him.

“Bring it,” said the team leader. The lead scout picked it up and tossed it. Catching the package, the sergeant looked at it and passed it to McCall.

“It’s addressed to you, Merry Christmas,” he said jokingly. As she opened the package, they noticed there were four earpieces and a recorder which was connected, possibly by Bluetooth. She passed the pieces of equipment to Tooms, Tony and the team leader.

“I guess someone wants to be heard,” the sergeant joked. They all put in the earpieces and the sergeant gave the signal to proceed forward. Creeping past smashed-up vehicles and the bridge’s large supporting metal struts, the cops reached a safe haven where they could observe what went on. Hearing a voice they all took cover. The sergeant asked for a situation report (known as a sit rep) from the lead scout.

“Just some homeless guy, all clear ...wait.” He saw several men approach the homeless man, all dressed in some sort of black tactical gear.

“Hey, old man, have you seen a cop round here?” The new arrival was tall and broad shouldered, and his blond hair was cut short.

“Na, sorry son, just me, what you want him for anyway?” asked the hunchback.

McCall had a bad feeling about the situation.

“We were sent to clear up a loose end, our employer don’t like loose ends, you see.” As the man spoke another man, behind them, was screwing a silencer onto a pistol. The hunchbacked guy saw this and ran towards the river. McCall watched as the shooter let him think he was home free, then put three rounds into his back. Pat was thrown forward from the impact of the rounds, straight into the swirling waves.

“STOP! POLICE! Put down your weapons and put your hands up,” cried McCall, her weapon trailing the obvious leader of the team.

“Sorry, officer, no can do.”

And with that, a blaze of automatic gunfire rang through the night air. Both sides opened up as bullets shattered brickwork and caused sparks to fly off the steel bridge. She dived for cover as a stream of brass and lead flew her way. The SWAT team took down two of the assailants but lost one of their own.

“Damn it, Steel, where the hell are you?” swore McCall, making pot shots as she and Tooms tried to get round the side of their opponents. As they edged round into the open her earpiece activated.

“McCall! Above you!” Instantly she leapt for cover, and at that moment the ground exploded where she had been standing. Tooms and Tony trailed their weapons up and took down the sniper. He fell from his hiding place just under the bridge. The support harness stopped him from falling all the way, but they knew he was dead. The firelight came to an end as most of gang lay injured or dead on the ground.

“OK, you two, get up with your hands on your heads,” screamed McCall to the two who lay on the ground spread-eagled. All the cops stepped forward, weapons trained on the crew.

“McCall, get the hell out of there,” a voice screamed as one of the uninjured men got up. There was a CLINK as the distinct noise of a grenade safety was released, and seconds later the noise of gunfire as the SWAT team took the man down just before he was able to throw it. A loud explosion echoed through the metal beams and the ground shook as the grenade activated, sending deadly shards of metal in every direction.

“Is everyone OK?” asked the voice in their earpieces.

“Yeh, we are fine, thanks,” replied McCall. There was a pause.

“Uhm, can you give me a thumbs up because this thing is only one way? Sorry.”

“Asshole,” she said, raising a fist with the middle finger standing out straight.

“Yeh that will do,” said the voice with a chuckle.

The area had been sealed up tight and CSU were having a field day marking all the bullet strikes and collecting evidence. The SWAT sergeant, McCall, Tooms, and Tony were debriefing the Captain on the events that had taken place.

“Steel never showed up but led us into a war zone instead,” said McCall, angry that she had trusted him.

“Well, your boy was right, something was going down, plus who’s the cop they were after? You?” asked the SWAT leader, looking at McCall.

“What cop?” asked the Captain. He looked concerned, wondering if Steel had lied to everyone.

“One of the guys asked the homeless guy ‘where the cop was’, I don’t know any more than that.” McCall was tired and annoyed.

“Could Steel have led us into a trap?” asked Tooms. “I mean, the boy’s not here, is he?”

“Couldn’t be him, he was telling us where the sniper was, and he alerted us to the guy with the grenade,” interjected the sergeant. “No, he saved your butts. All of our butts actually.”

“I want to know where Steel is, Captain.” Detective McCall was really mad. “I mean, he led us here but where is he? He’s just a voice. So, no, I don’t buy it.” The thought of John Steel being dirty was ripping her up, after the way he had been leading her on.

There was a rustle of undergrowth and then they saw a hunchback moving slowly towards them, his arm outstretched, making a silent cry for help, just before he collapsed. Tony and Tooms rushed forward, the medical teams not far behind them. Tony put two fingers on the man’s neck: there was no pulse.

“He’s gone,” said Tony, standing up. “Why did they have to kill the guy? He was no harm to anyone.” Tony kicked an empty can that lay on the floor, sending it sailing across the open area.

“I will get him back and see if he’s got any evidence on him,” said Tina with a sympathetic smile.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Normally Tina would have music playing while she worked but today felt different, something sad was in the air, but she didn’t know what to ascribe it to. McCall had followed the transport and was now sitting on the swivel chair waiting for the body of the homeless guy to be brought in.

“So what happened out there?” asked Tina as she stirred her coffee.

“Don’t really know,” Sam replied. “We got a call from Steel, who said that something was going down, next thing we know we are at the OK Corral.”

“So where was Steel in all this?” asked the puzzled ME.

McCall shook her head, “Don’t know, but he was talking to us. God, it was weird, it was as if he set us up but couldn’t go through with it.”

Tina frowned. “I can’t believe he set you up.”

“I know, you’re right after everything that has happened.”

“No, I mean I CAN’T believe he set you up, there has to be more to it.” Tina hadn’t spent that much time with the mysterious detective but she was good at reading people. And what she read in him was goodness. He was a little messed up maybe, but nevertheless a good man.