Spectrum (The Karen Vail Series) (42 page)

BOOK: Spectrum (The Karen Vail Series)
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“Me? A coward.” He coughed. “Interesting psychology you’re using, Karen. But I did tell you we would meet again, didn’t I?”

“Too bad for you it’s on my terms, not yours.”

Prisco dug the barrel deeper into the muscle beneath her skin. “You’re the one with the gun pressed against your skull. How is that on your terms?”

“You were on the run. I was hunting you. You were the prey. And now I’ve got you.”

Prisco laughed. “You’re either delusional or the Behavioral Analysis Unit is teaching you some real strange shit.”

“You want to know why you’re a coward?”

“Not really. Your opinion carries no weight.”

“Because you tried to pin everything on your brother. Your brother, who wouldn’t hurt a fly unless you told him to.”

“Fucking retard. Useless piece of shit, that’s all he is.”

“You feel that way about everyone in your life, don’t you? You feel that way about your father. Did you feel that way about your sister, before you killed her? What was it like to kill Cassandra?”

“She was my first,” he whispered in her ear. “The first is always special.”

“See, that’s what I mean. She was an object. We’re all just objects to you. Because you lack the ability to
feel
.”

Prisco laughed. “You say it like it’s some kind of disease. But it’s a strength, not a weakness.”

“For killing, it’s a strength. I’ll give you that.”

“I think
you’re
the piece of shit,” Robby said, “not your brother. Dmitri’s made a life for himself despite enormous obstacles. And you? What did you do with your life? You took the lives of others.”

He swung his gaze back toward Robby. “Your point?”

Robby squinted, a look that said, “Huh?”

“There’s no reasoning with him,” Vail said. “He has no moral compass. He knows what’s right and wrong. But he doesn’t care. The rules of society don’t apply to him.”

“They don’t, do they?” Prisco leaned back and appraised her face. “Very good,
Karen
. I couldn’t have expressed it better. By the way, if you’re such a great judge of character, how’d you end up with your deadbeat husband?”

Because, asshole, he turned out to be bipolar and refused to take his meds. Ignore him, Karen. He’s just playing head games with you.

“So tell me something, Niklaus. The logo and letters you draw on the women. You’re numbering your victims, right?”


They
were not victims.
I
was the victim! That was the point.”

That
was
the point, wasn’t it?

“And your assumption, Karen, is very simplistic. I expected better. I was not numbering them, I was claiming them. Keeping track of my kills.”

“Like inventory.”

“See?” Prisco said. “You understand more than you let on.”

“Except the second and third ones—b and c in your ‘inventory’—were missing. Gregor and Alyssa Persephone?”

“Score another for the Fibbie.”

“You shot them to make it look like the Castiglias put out a hit on them. To make sure no one would connect their murders to you.”

“Correct again. Even back then, my execution was flawless.”

“And the r on Crinelli,” Vail said. “R for revenge?”

Prisco laughed. “Did it take you twenty years to figure that out?”

There was a slight rumbling under Vail’s feet.
The train’s coming.

Robby’s gaze drifted off to the tracks.

In the same moment, Prisco’s head swung left. He noticed it too. “The N train. Our carriage awaits! We’re getting on that, Karen. Me and you.”

“The cameras will track you,” Robby said. “You’ve got no way out of this. Drop the gun and I won’t beat your brains in. Deal?”

“There aren’t any cameras on the cars,” Prisco said evenly.

No rise in pitch, no hurried speech.
He was not nervous. This was the type of scenario psychopaths found exciting—an emotion they craved, since they loathed boredom and lacked most other feelings.

“In fact, a lot of stations don’t have cameras, either,” Prisco said. “And yes, I do know which have cameras and which don’t. I’ve got access to police department resources, remember? And I’ve had plenty of time to work this through. All contingencies.”

“If you had this so well planned out,” Vail said, “how come we found your fake passport and ten grand in Canadian cash?”

“Shut up!” Prisco jammed the gun tighter against her skull and nudged her closer to the tracks, twisting her so that her back was to the oncoming train.

The vibration in the platform was getting stronger and a gentle breeze ruffled the back of her hair.

It’s coming.

“How’d you feel about your mother?” Vail asked.

“My mother died of cancer when I was a kid. She’s irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant? What do you think she’d say if she saw you, right here, right now?”

Robby started waving his hands at the subway’s operator, no doubt trying to signal him to keep moving past the station.

“Don’t do that!” Prisco said. “You tell him not to stop and I’ll shoot her. Blow her brains all over the goddamn place. I’ve got nothing to lose. And if I’m leaving this world. I’m gonna take her with me.”

Robby tensed his jaw.

“So your mother died when you were young,” Vail said. “Were you close to her?”

The subway was approaching. Vail heard the rattle of the wheels.

I can’t get on that train with him. At some point after we board, he’ll have no use for me. I’ll never see Robby again. Or Jonathan.

Robby brought his Glock up higher, lining up the sights.

Vail knew he was trying to decide if he could get off a reasonable shot. What was the right call here? What would she do? Shoot left-handed?

“Karen,” Robby said, locking eyes with her. “Do
not
get on that train.”

The rumble increased. The subway was yards away.

Maintaining eye contact with Robby, she jerked her chin up and to the right. Robby understood, because he pointed his SIG at the sky and fired off two rapid shots.

The moment Prisco flinched, Vail shifted her weight onto her left leg and rammed her right boot heel into his kneecap, hyperextending the joint and forcing him to recoil in pain. It gave her just enough space—and moved the barrel away from her head.

Vail grabbed his jacket and spun, turning clockwise, using momentum and all her body weight to propel him toward the tracks—much like a shotputter spinning and then hurling the ball through the air.

Prisco tried to stop himself, but the damaged knee buckled and he went over the platform’s edge at the exact instant the subway pulled into the station. He slammed against the front of the car as the operator screeched its wheels on the track, emitting a high pitched squeal as the train skidded to an ear-piercing stop.

Robby ran ahead and leaped down onto the tracks. He shielded his eyes from the headlight and peered underneath.

Vail joined him at the edge of the platform and got down on her knees. “You see him?”

“Yeah. I see him. Well, what’s left of him.”

65

>USS INTREPID

Pier 86

West 46th Street & 12th Avenue

Manhattan

Present day: July 19

Karen Vail and Robby Hernandez stood dockside looking up at the massive attack carrier, USS
Intrepid
. “That’s one big dude,” Robby said.

Vail elbowed him in the side. “Takes one to know one.”

The former World War II naval ship’s gray hull was lit from below, thick white ropes stretching from apertures in its bow and port side across the water to somewhere below the pier.

They ascended the glass elevator to the top level, then walked across the gangway to the flight deck. They strolled along the battleship gray tarmac past the fighter planes and helicopters on display, headed toward the building at the stern of the ship.

The last time I was on an aircraft carrier it was the USS
New York
off the coast of England. And here I am in New York, on the
Intrepid.

“How are the heels?” Robby asked. “Still feel too high?”

“Don’t be silly. They’re pumps.” She stopped and twirled in the middle of the tarmac. “How do I look?”

“I think you were right. About the white blouse.”

Vail play-slapped him on the shoulder as they entered the pavilion and moved down the corrugated steel corridor.

“You look stunning,” he said. “Seriously, they better have automatic defibrillators onboard or all these old farts are gonna be in trouble.”

They emerged in a room that housed the stark white and charcoal gray space shuttle
Enterprise
, spotlit from below and above against a blue ceiling.

“Now that is the definition of cool,” Robby said, craning his neck to take in the craft. “No matter how many times I saw the shuttle take off and land on TV, I never got the sense it was this big.”

Wait staff dressed in black suits were wandering the floor with trays, handing out champagne flutes. Robby took two and handed one to Vail as they made their way to the front of the shuttle. After ascending the stairs, they stood nose to nose with the spaceship. It was a foot away from them—close enough to touch.

“It’s very odd looking,” Vail said. “In a cute sort of way. I mean, is it me, or straight-on does it look like Snoopy?”

“Snoopy.” Robby turned away from the nose of shuttle and looked at Vail. “When was the last time you took a Rorschach?”

“The Rorschach test is for analyzing inkblots—”

“Whoa. Who the
hell
is that?”

They turned and saw Russo and Proschetta standing there in tuxes, glasses of champagne in their hands. They looked like they were on their third helping.

“Sorry, miss,” Russo said, his eyes wandering her body from head to toe. “You must be in the wrong place. This party is for law enforcement personnel only.”

“Very funny.”

Proschetta nudged Russo aside and held out a hand. “I’m Izzie Protch. Have we met before?”

“All right, all right,” Vail said. “Down boys. You have no idea how much foundation I needed to cover those pepper spray burns.”

“I don’t think they’re looking at your face,” Robby said near her ear.

Russo moved his head sideward, catching the light. “I’m wearing my burns as a badge of honor.”

Vail pretended to admire them. “Actually, it looks like a bad day at the beach, where you only applied sunscreen to certain spots.”

“This is a captain you’re addressing,” Proschetta said. “Show him some respect.”

Robby cleared his throat, then extended a hand. “Robby Hernandez.”

“So you’re Robby,” Proschetta said. “Much bigger than I expected.”

Vail nodded. “Kind of like the space shuttle.”

Proschetta looked to Robby for an explanation.

“You don’t want to know,” he said. “But congrats. To both of you.”

Proschetta chuckled. “Karen made sure my send-off into retirement had some spice to it. None of this riding into the sunset. I went out with a bang. And a boom.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Karen,” Russo said, tears welling up in his eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but if there was one good thing about Hades, it’s that he somehow kept bringing us together the past twenty years.”

“Then we’ll have to find a reason to meet up,” Proschetta said. “I haven’t been to DC in ten, fifteen years. And I’ve got a lotta friggin’ time on my hands. I have a feeling retirement’s gonna suck.”

“Either way,” Robby said, “I think we’ll be seeing you two in the very near future.”

“Oh yeah?” Russo asked. “Why’s that?”

Vail lifted her left hand.

“Holy shit.” Russo grabbed her wrist. “Did you steal that out of the property room? I’m gonna tell the commish—”

“Mazel tov.” Proschetta moved to tip Vail’s glass—and almost missed. “To both of you.”

“I hope you didn’t pay retail,” Russo said. “Because I got a guy in the diamond district—”

“Russo, you’re so New York.”

“So are you, my dear. Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Russo elbowed Robby. “You realize what you’re getting yourself into? This engagement?”

Robby laughed. “How do you mean?”

Vail tilted her head. “Yeah, how do you mean?”

Russo shrugged. “With Karen around, life tends to be a lot more … I don’t know … exciting.”

Robby raised his glass. “I’m counting on it.”

They talked about their plans for the wedding, which somehow degenerated into Russo telling stories of when he and Proschetta were cops in Vice. Vail did not mind—she loved hearing these tales, even though she had heard them at least three times before, many years ago … in a somewhat different form. They seemed to get a little more polished, a little more impressive, with each successive telling.

But in that moment, in reflection on closing the Hades case, something that had dogged her for two decades, she reflected back on her life, the things that shaped her, the experiences that made her the cop she is. The people who made her the person she is.

She was concerned she would eventually lose touch with Carmine Russo and Isidore Proschetta, because that’s what often happened with old friends when you moved away and didn’t have a reason to visit. But she would have to make sure that never happened. Because when it came right down to it, cases came and went. But friends were what mattered.

Friends were forever.

Acronyms Used in Spectrum

ASAC: assistant special agent in charge (FBI)

BAU: Behavioral Analysis Unit (FBI)

BSU: Behavioral Science Unit (FBI)

CI: confidential informant

COD: cause of death

CFO: chief financial officer

CPA: certified public accountant

CRV: critical response vehicle

CSI/CSU: crime scene investigator/crime scene unit

DAS: domain awareness system

DD-5: complaint follow-up report (NYPD)

DOA: dead on arrival

EOD: Explosives Ordnance Division

ESS: Emergency Services Squad

ETA: estimated time of arrival

FAA: Federal Aviation Administration

FDNY: Fire Department of New York

ESU: Emergency Service Unit

INS: Immigration and Naturalization Service

LEO: law enforcement officer

One PP: One Police Plaza (NYPD headquarters)

ME: medical examiner

MO: method of operation

NCAVC: National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime

PAA: police administrative aide

PBAU: Profiling and Behavioral Analysis Unit (FBI)

PDA: personal digital assistant

RFID: radio frequency identification

SWAT: special weapons and tactics

TARU: Technical Assistance Response Unit

TDU: tactical duty uniform

TRACS: tactical radiological acquisition and characterization system

UNSUB: unknown subject

VICAP: Violent Criminal Apprehension Program

Y2K: year 2000

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