Veiled Passages (18 page)

“Well, yes,” Tracey said. “But shouldn’t I be asking you that?  I heard about the bomb scare at the police department yesterday.”

Mary leaned against the doorstop. “You really do have a good information network.”

Tracey shrugged. “Well, you know, small towns, lots of relatives,” she said. “It’s Freeport’s version of Headline News.”

“Okay, but why are you here?” Mary asked.

“Well, to help you figure this out,” she replied. “We can put Peter’s case on hold while we deal with this one.”

“Tracey, I really appreciate your offer…” Mary began.

“Before you tell me I’m just a writer,” Tracey interrupted. “I’d like to remind you that in order to be a believable mystery writer you need to be able to consider all kinds of plot lines or motivation.  You need to be able to do research, pull random points together to create a viable story and understand human nature.  What is the difference between being a mystery writer and being a private investigator?”

Mary thought for a moment. “I can carry a gun.”

Tracey laughed. “Okay, other than a gun,” she acknowledged. “Really, Mary, I want to help.”

Mary sighed and moved out of her way. “Well, thank you,” she said. “I appreciate the help. Why don’t you go in and tell Ian we’re going to need more pancakes.”

Chapter Thirty-nine

 Two hours later, Bradley came down the stairs after a solid nap and found Ian, Tracey and Mary gathered around the kitchen table. 

Mary looked over when she heard him. “Hi, are you hungry?” she asked.

Shaking his head, he wandered to the refrigerator, pulled out a cold can of diet cola and opened it.  He took a sizable drink and then put it down. “No, I just needed a kick in the pants,” he said. “What are you up to?”

“Well, Ma is with Rosie addressing invitations,” she explained, “while Stanley is watching guard over them.”

“Don’t I have a patrol car watching their house too?” Bradley asked, running his hand through his hair and disheveling it in a way that made Mary want to run her hands through it too.

“Yes, you do,” she said with a smile, and then imitated Stanley’s voice. “But iffen Bradley thinks I’m a gonna let some young recruit watch over my Rosie, he’s got another thing coming.”

Shaking his head, still trying to wake up, Bradley looked down at Mary. “But Officer Killoran is forty-two years old.”

“Well, it’s all in your perspective, isn’t it?” Ian said with a grin. “Forty-two is a mere babe in arms for Stanley.”

Lifting the can, Bradley took another shot of caffeine. “I can’t even go there right now,” he said, walking over to the table and sitting down. “So, what are you up to?”

“The four of us are reviewing Copper’s case to see if there is anything we might have missed or if we can identify some kind of pattern,” Mary said.

Bradley looked around the table, confused. “The four of you?” he asked.

“Oh, sorry,” Mary replied and put her hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “Peter is a ghost.”

Bradley lifted his head and watched as the ghost slowly materialized in front of him. “Nice to…,” he began, “What the hell? Mary’s he’s naked!”

“Yes, we try not to notice,” Ian replied, biting back a grin.

Turning to Mary, Bradley pointed in Peter’s direction. “Mary, this ghost is naked,” he repeated. “There is a naked ghost in your house.”

“You die in a bathtub and see what you’re wearing,” Peter complained. “I didn’t ask to come back naked.  As a matter of fact, I didn’t ask to be murdered.”

“Peter is the ghost from the hotel,” Mary explained.

“You mean where they’re going to cook our food?” Bradley asked, a look of disgust on his face. “They let naked ghosts hang around areas where they’re cooking food?”

“Well, it’s not like he’s going to drop a hair in something,” Ian said.

“Oh, gross,” Tracey said. “Thanks for the visual, Ian.”

Ian turned to Bradley and casually commented. “Actually, he was sitting in your chair before you came into the room. Naked and sitting in it.”

Bradley started to jump out of the chair, when Mary’s hand restrained him. “He teasing you,” she said. “Ian, be nice.”

Taking a deep breath and another drink of soda, Bradley looked back at Peter. “I apologize,” he said. “Of course it’s not your fault that you’re naked. I’m just not used to seeing naked ghosts I suppose. Please, don’t let me interrupt your discussion.”

Mary leaned over and placed a kiss on Bradley’s cheek. “You’re a good sport,” she said, and then she turned back to the other members of the group. “Okay, we know he’s been seen at the school, at the courthouse and at my house, several times.”

“Has he ever tried to break in when all of you were home?” Tracey asked.

Thinking for a moment, Mary nodded. “Well, he snuck in right after Clarissa and I had been out shopping. We were all upstairs because Bradley was painting Clarissa’s room. I heard the doorbell and came downstairs to find a note.”

“But he never tried to attack you when everyone was home?” she asked.

Bradley shook his head. “No, he doesn’t seem to operate like that,” he said. “He generally incapacitates his victims, or he kills them in a one-on-one situation, and then only if they are elderly or weak.  He’s a coward.”

Tracey sat back in her chair and tapped her pencil on her lips, thinking. Finally, she sat up and aimed her question at Mary and Bradley. “So, why would he randomly break into your house the other night? How could he know that only Margaret and Clarissa would be home?”

“Damn, he’s been watching us,” Bradley said. “He knew we were out.”

Nodding, Mary agreed. “But he didn’t attack right after we left,” she said slowly. “We were ready to order when Mike appeared. So, what took him so long?”

“Well, my guess is that he followed the two of you,” Ian said. “And when you weren’t an easy target, he decided to try the house.”

Shivering, Mary rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “He was following us,” she said. “Why didn’t he…”

“Valet parking,” Bradley said, turning to Mary. “We used valet parking, so there wasn’t a clear shot where it wouldn’t be noticed.”

“If this is true, I’m going to bronze those high heels,” she replied.

“Chief Alden,” Peter said, interrupting. “Do you have this man’s description at every hotel and motel in the area?”

“Yes, we have his mug shot and possible disguises all around the area,” he replied. “Even in the bed and breakfast homes. Why?”

“Well, I assumed that was the case, but I wanted to be sure,” Peter replied. “So, if your culprit is following you, if he knew enough about the downtown to evade your officers after planting the bomb and if he has been seen several places around town, one must assume that he has either rented a home or apartment somewhere or is living in an abandoned domicile in town.”

“We’ve had officers check abandoned homes and even apartment buildings,” Bradley replied. “But I hadn’t thought about renting a place.”

“Is there a central database of rental units in your town?” Peter asked.

Mary shook her head. “No, there’s the local paper and there’s also online sites.”

“We should compile a list of all of the places that were for rent last month and now have a renter,” Tracey said, reaching into her briefcase for her laptop. “I can start working online.”

“Aye, I’ll join you,” Ian said. “I’ve my laptop on the coffee table.”

“I’ll go down to the paper…” Mary started.

Bradley put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll call one of my officers to pick up old copies of the paper,” he said. “And they can bring them to you.”

“You should also check recent obituaries,” Peter suggested.

“What? Why?” Bradley asked.

“Well, if our Mr. Copper is as deadly as you claim,” he said. “He wouldn’t have wanted to leave any loose ends.”

Chapter Forty

Sean pushed away from his desk and walked over to the window of his office that overlooked downtown Chicago. He laid his forehead against the cold glass panel and stared, unseeing, into the distance.  He was out there, somewhere, plotting his next kill. Stalking his next victim. He closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer.
I can’t do this on my own
, he prayed,
I need your help.  Please, I need to stop this demon.

Placing his hand on the casing around the window, he opened his eyes and looked out again, this time seeing the city below.  He loved this city.  He loved the noise, he loved the neighborhoods, and he loved the melting pot culture that allowed a Swedish bakery to be next door to a Japanese sushi place that was next door to a Middle Eastern restaurant. This was his city, dammit, and no one was going to get away with killing the people he was responsible for.

Pushing away from the window, he went back to his desk and picked up the file that was getting thicker as the days wore on. He flipped open the cover and pulled out the stack of crime scene photos Maria had taken.  There had to be something there he’d missed.  He fanned the photos out over his desk, creating a horrific collage of death, and bent over them, trying to find something...anything.

Maria Draper looked up from her paperwork before she knocked on the doorjamb that led into Sean’s office and her hand froze mid-air.  Through the open door she studied him as he stared down at the photos on his desk.  She knew what he was seeing; she had nightmares about them.  Usually, when she took photos of a death scene, the lens of the camera would distance her from the remains on the ground.  But not this time.  This time she had been pulled in by the brutality and senselessness of each death.  No money was taken, no jewelry was missing, laptops, smart phone and expensive watches were all within a few feet of the murdered victim. There was no reason for the deaths…except enjoyment.  And that’s what chilled her heart.

Sean looks tired
, she thought and wondered if he too were experiencing nightmares over this case. She had always admired him. He was tough, but fair, he was hard-working, but could relax with the rest of them when the time was right.  And he was devoted.  Devoted to his family, devoted to his job and devoted to his city.

He finally looked up and saw her. His smile was weary. “Maria, tell me you’ve solved the case for me,” he said. “Then I’ll retire and give you my job.”

She smiled back and shook her head. “No thanks,” she replied. “I’ll keep working with the dead bodies; you can have the live ones. But I did find something that might be useful.”

“Anything,” Sean said, standing up and stretching, “Because I’ve got nothing here.”

Moving into his office, she found a small clear spot on his desk and placed a photo on it. “I found this,” she said.

Sean bent down again and studied the photo. “You found mold?” he finally asked, looking at the magnified picture of white and green dots.

“
No, I found
Blarneya hibernica
,” she replied. “I found trace amounts on the clothes of all of the victims.”

“All of them?” he asked. “So this is no coincidence.”

She shook her head. “No, this isn’t a coincidence; the killer must have been carrying it somehow and it brushed off on his victims.”

Sean nodded his head, a smile growing on his face as he picked up the photo and studied it. “This is excellent,” he said, with a deep sigh of relief. “Really excellent. We are finally getting a break on this case. So, where does this…Blarneya stuff grow?”

Her silence caused him to lower the photo and turn in her direction. “Maria,” he said slowly. “Where does this grow?”

“Well that’s the only weird thing about it,” she said.

“What’s weird,” he asked, his smile disappearing and an intuitive feeling of dread filling his heart.

“It’s only found in one area of the world,” she said hesitantly. “The old woodlands of Ireland.”

Chapter Forty-one

“Well, that’s the tenth call I’ve made about online rentals,” Tracey said. “And I’ve had no luck so far.  How about you?”

Ian shook his head. “Nothing so far,” he said. “And I’m amazed at how many of these adverts are just bait and switch deals. They don’t have an apartment for rent; they want to sell you a house.”

Mary looked up from the paper she was reading, a pencil in her mouth, and shook her head. “Nothing,” she mumbled before returning back to the stack in front of her.

She slipped the pencil from her mouth and made a note on the legal pad in front of her. “What we need is a profiler so we can narrow down the area he would be interested in,” she said. “He could be in any of the small towns in the area, or even as far away as Rockford. We are searching for a needle in a haystack.”

“I did some profiling work once,” Peter said. “And I was actually quite good at it.”

Mary discreetly rolled her eyes and sighed softly.  

“Okay Peter,” Ian said. “Give it a go.”

“What? What did Peter say?” Tracey asked.

“He’s done a bit of profiling,” Ian said, “so he’s going to see if he can figure out where Copper would have rented.”

Tracey stood up and grabbed her purse. “While you two talk with Peter, I’m going to run out and get us all some lunch,” she said. “I’ll pick up sandwiches at the deli in the mall. Okay?”

“Sounds great,” Mary said. “Thank you.”

“Aye, a corned beef sandwich would hit the spot,” Ian said.

“Mary?” Tracey asked.

“Turkey,” Mary replied.

“Got it. I’ll be back soon.”

“She didn’t ask me,” Peter complained. “I would have liked a ham on rye.”

“You keep forgetting you’re dead,” Ian said. “A sandwich wouldn’t do you much good.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he replied. “I do keep forgetting. But a ham on rye still sounds delicious.”

“Peter,” Mary said impatiently. “Profiling…”

“Ah, yes, back to profiling. We know he bought a disguise, so he does realize that people are looking for him. So, I don’t think he’d rent in a small town because too many people would notice the new person in town, especially law enforcement. He’d want a bigger town, so he could hide.”

“That makes sense,” Mary agreed. “So, we have Freeport, Rockford and, even Monroe, Wisconsin, as possiblities.”