The Anniversary Man (21 page)

′And we are completely ruling out the possibility that the current perp could be any of these,′ Gerrard said matter-of-factly.

Irving nodded. ′I consider that a relative certainty.′

′And Zodiac?′ Vincent asked.

′Last suspected Zodiac killing was May 1981,′ Jeff Turner said. He glanced at Hannah Doyle and smiled. ′I did Zodiac on my research paper, and there are certain characteristics about Zodiac victims that never changed. He killed on weekends in areas near water, always on a full or new moon. Apart from a taxi driver, he attacked couples, primarily young students. It was always at dusk or at night, and he used different weapons each time. Robbery was never a motive and he never sexually abused or molested victims, either before or after killing them. He was credited with killing forty-six people, but in actual fact there were only ever six that were conclusively attributed.′

Farraday leaned forward. ′We′re not dealing with the Zodiac. I think we can safely rule out that possibility.′

There was a murmur of agreement from the gathering.

′So where now?′ Vincent asked.

′Seems obvious that we get a warrant on this Winterbourne group,′ Lavelle said.

′For what?′ Farraday asked. ′For being too fucking smart for their own good?′

′For our own good,′ Lucas interjected. ′Fucking whacko makes us look like a bunch of cunts.′

′Nice,′ Hannah Doyle said sarcastically.

Lucas smiled awkwardly, raised his hand in a conciliatory fashion. ′Sorry. Forgot I was in company.′

′I′ll go back there,′ Irving said. ′They meet tonight—′

′You spoke to this guy, right?′ Lucas asked.

Irving nodded.

′How′d he seem to you?′

Irving shrugged. ′Hell, I live in New York . . . everyone seems crazy to me.′

Murmurs of recognition from the others, then comments were shared and, for a moment, it seemed that Irving′s wisecrack had eased the tension. Until that moment none of them had perceived it clearly, but it was there. Eight victims. They knew very little at all, and they were aware of how close that was to nothing.

′He′s what . . . late thirties—′ Irving began.

′He′s a survivor, right?′ Hannah Doyle asked. ′A survivor of what?′

Irving leaned back in his chair, folded his hands across his stomach. ′Anyone heard of the Hammer of God killings?′

Lavelle raised his hand. ′Early eighties, right. That was where? Jersey City?′

′Jersey City, yes. Guy called Robert Clare. Killed five, all teenagers, courting couples, you know? Beat their heads in with a hammer. Our guy, this John Costello, was the only one who survived. His girlfriend, Nadia McGowan, she didn′t make it. He was sixteen, she was a year or so older. Costello was injured badly, spent some time in hospital, but he came through.′

′They got Clare, right?′

′They got him,′ Irving said. ′December ′84. He committed suicide before the trial. Hanged himself in a psych facility.′

′And your impression of this guy, this Costello character?′

′I only met him once. He figured out where I eat and asked to meet me there.′

′He did what?′

Irving smiled. ′He knew who I was. He knew I′d been assigned to the Mia Grant case. I went over to see Karen Langley at the City Herald, she gave away that he was the one who′d done the research on her article.′

′What the fuck is the deal with this Langley woman?′ Lucas asked. ′She gets a rush doing this shit?′

′Don′t break a sweat,′ Vincent said, ′she′s a newspaper hack. They′re all the freakin′ same.′

′Anyway,′ Irving went on, ′far as I understand, this article is not going to be appearing in the Herald or The New York Times, and I′m not aware of any TV crews turning up at police precincts, or news bulletins or anything going out.′

′Give it time,′ Lucas said. ′Just give it a little time. Once they get an idea we′re collaborating on something they′ll be all over us.′

′We′re getting off track here,′ Vincent said. ′The question is whether or not this Costello guy is in the frame for this.′

′He′s as good as anyone right now,′ Irving said. ′Gut feeling tells me no, but I′ve been wrong before. If he is our guy then he′s seriously good at giving nothing away.′

′So a plan of action,′ Farraday said. ′I propose that due to the fact the Fourth has two separate incidents, whereas the Ninth, Fifth, Seventh and Third have only one each, the temporary co-ordination point be established here. Any disagreements?′

There were none.

′Okay, as far as forensics and crime scene analysis is concerned, who out of you lot has the most years on this?′

Turner raised his hand. He was visibly the oldest of the group.

′Right, any objections to Jeff Turner as acting controller for the forensic and crime scene analysis issues?′

Once again, there were no disagreements with Farraday′s proposal.

′Okay, so we have what we have. Irving and Turner pool their resources. I send a briefing to Chief Ellmann tonight. We get a silencer on this Karen Langley at the City Herald, and we establish an agreement with The Times that they do nothing on this Zodiac letter while there′s an ongoing investigation. Any press queries, requests for statements or conferences come directly to me . . . and don′t even be smart and say ′′No comment′′ to anyone. If you say ′′no comment′′ they know we′re into something. Anyone asks what this was about it was a meeting regarding security for the Mayor′s re-election walkabouts. The key to this is to keep it quiet, keep it discreet. We′ve worked to keep this thing under wraps so far and I want it to stay that way. Newspaper headlines I can do without, you understand?′

′And John Costello?′ Lavelle asked.

′I′ll follow up on Costello and this Winterbourne group,′ Irving said.

Farraday rose from his chair. ′I suggest our line of investigation works through all known serial killers for the last fifty years. We get a database organized and establish the dates of all past serial killings that occurred between now and Christmas. I know that it′ll be a nightmare. I understand that there is no way of predicting whose killing he might replicate next, but if we know that there was no killing that fell between, for example, now and next Tuesday, then we at least have some breathing space.′

He paused for a moment, looked at each individual present. ′Any questions?′

There were none, and almost immediately people stood up, moved around to talk to each other. The hubbub of discussion grew to such an extent that Ray Irving could barely hear Farraday when he said, ′Make this thing go away, for God′s sake . . . can you do that for me?′

Farraday didn′t wait for an answer. He merely straightened his jacket, circumnavigated the crowd of detectives and CSAs, and left the room.

Irving stood there for some time, trying to remember what his life had been like prior to June 3rd.

′Y
ou got the envelope?′ John Costello asked. He stood on the sidewalk outside the Winterbourne Hotel on 37th Street. He smiled at Ray Irving as if this was the unexpected reunion of old and important friends.

′I did.′

′Shawcross, right?′

′Right.′

′Expect that rattled some cages.′

Irving nodded. He stood there for a moment and looked at John Costello as if he was seeing him for the first time.

Costello was of average height, perhaps five nine or ten. He dressed well - had on a smart pair of pants, a sport jacket, a clean, pressed white shirt. His hair was professionally cut, he was clean-shaven, his shoes were shined. He looked like an architect, a writer, perhaps an advertising executive who′d made his name with successful campaigns and now devoted his energies to consultations.

He did not look like a serial killer who spent his time replicating earlier murders and then wrote newspaper stories about them.

But then, Irving thought, who did?

′Are you making progress?′ Costello asked.

′What do you want me to tell you, Mr Costello?′

Costello glanced back down the street and as if there was something he expected to see. ′I don′t know, Detective . . . I suppose I′m still hopeful that you people will always be one step ahead of the other people.′

′The other people?′

′The Shawcrosses and McDuffs and Gacys of this world. Is it not frustrating always to be in a position where you are chasing those who have done terrible things, as opposed to getting to them before they do it again?′

′Maybe you have to look at it from the viewpoint that those we apprehend have been prevented from doing further terrible things. We can′t undo what′s happened, but we can save future lives.′

Costello closed his eyes for a moment, and then smiled resignedly. ′If you hoped to see who else was attending our meeting I had them leave by the back way. I′m not in good favor at the moment.′

′Because?′

′Because I have broken a cardinal rule of the group.′

′Which is?′

′That everything stays inside the group.′

′That doesn′t seem to be a very responsible attitude.′

′Depends on your perspective,′ Costello replied. ′I am the only member of the group whose attacker did not attack again. The man who attacked me—′

′Committed suicide, right? Robert Clare.′

′Yes, Robert Clare. The others all survived an attack by someone who then went on to kill again.′

′So there is no love lost between your group members and the police,′ Irving said matter-of-factly.

′I think it would be safe to say that.′

′How many are there?′

′Aside from me, there are six. Four women, two men. Seven of us in all.′

′And who heads the group, who founded it?′

′A man called Edward Cavanaugh.′ Costello smiled. ′Strictly speaking, what he started and what it became were not the same. Cavanaugh was not a victim, his wife was. He saw it as a means by which he could get some support and assistance from people he thought might understand how he felt. His wife was murdered some years ago, and he started this as a sort of bereavement group, for support, for fraternity if you like. The people who responded to his advertisement were people who had themselves survived attacks, not their loved ones or relatives.′

′And Cavanaugh is one of the male members you mentioned?′

′No. He committed suicide some time ago.′

′And how did you find out about it?′

′I was in touch with someone on the internet, back in 2000. She and I maintained a relationship, just e-mails, a few phone calls, you know? There was nothing between us except a degree of friendship. She found out about the group, wanted to go, but didn′t want to go alone. She asked me to accompany her and I did.′

′And she′s still part of the group?′

Costello shook his head. ′No, she actually met someone and got married, moved to Boston. I don′t speak to her anymore. She was one of the lucky ones.′

′How so?′

′She got through it. She dealt with whatever she had to and she was able to start another life. I think she even had children, you know?′

′Let′s go inside,′ Costello suggested. ′Let′s go get a cup of coffee or something. I can imagine that this is one of those unofficially official conversations, and if I tell you I have to go home then you′re not going to be happy.′

′I do need to speak to you, Mr Costello,′ Irving said. ′I think what you′re doing is important, and I want to know everything that you′ve learned.′

Costello smiled. ′I′m flattered, Detective Irving, but I think you might be disappointed with what I know.′

They walked a block, found a diner on 38th and Tenth. Costello wanted black, no sugar. Irving asked for decaf.

′I don′t sleep so good as it is,′ he told Costello. ′Coffee makes it worse.′

They sat for a while in silence, and then Costello asked Irving what he felt would happen with his case.

′It might not be my case tomorrow,′ Irving said.

′How so?′

′Because you have five different precincts involved, and each precinct has a captain, and each captain has a workload and a number of resources, and the Chief of Police will assign as he sees fit. The whole thing may be turned over to someone else entirely.′

′But for now?′ Costello asked.

′For now? Well, to tell you the truth, everyone involved in this is very interested in who you are, Mr Costello . . . and who your group is, and what they might have to do with this thing.′

′Which is understandable,′ Costello replied, ′but I can assure you that no-one in the group has any direct connection with any of these murders, and their interest is purely academic.′

Irving smiled. ′You know that, Mr Costello, and I might be prepared to accept that, but—′

Costello raised his hand and Irving fell silent.

′There are a great many reasons for doing what we do,′ Costello said. ′The common denominator has something to do with our willingness to face what frightens us. It′s not complicated, and it certainly isn′t a new idea. We talk about dying, and we talk about people who are capable of killing other people, and sometimes people talk about their nightmares, you know? That′s what they do, and when they get over their initial anger and fear they start to look outwards a little . . . to consider the possibility that there might be a life beyond what they′ve experienced. Like people who are released from prison or who have been tortured, or been through war . . . something like that. After something like that it feels for a while as if that′s all there is to your life, and when you speak to other people who′ve gone through the same things, well, then you start to think that maybe there is something beyond it.′ He smiled wistfully. ′You′re basically talking about a group of people, each of whom believe that they should be dead, but they′re not . . . and that′s a hard thing to deal with.′

′I get all that,′ Irving said, ′but where does the amateur detective stuff come into it? Where does that figure into the equation?′