CH 6: New Players in Town – Welcome to Boston
The man swept the house from top to bottom, and he made damn sure everything was immaculate. There was no room for error. But on the up side, he was in a fabulous mood. He whistled a joyful tune, as he combed every last room. When he was finally satisfied, he returned to the living room, and set the final piece of the puzzle in motion. He turned off the ceiling fan, and gave it a gentle yank. And that was it.
On his way out, he peeled off a sticker by the window, and he closed the door.
And now, it was on to act two.
- o -
"You! Go grab Dr. Isles, now!"
The uniform rookie didn't dare question Jane; he did as he was told, and ran for dear life.
Frankie made an attempt to grab the head, only to have his hands swatted away.
"Don't even think about it! Not until Maura gets here."
"But —"
"No. Jane's right. It's crucial we preserve whatever evidence is available by limiting our contact."
"Why's she in pigtails?"
Barry had his eyes adverted the entire time. But when his curiosity got the best of him, all it took was one look, and he gagged.
"Not here, Frost!"
Barry distanced himself from the gore. "I'll pull up the lobby footage. Maybe our cameras caught a glimpse of the courier."
It wasn't long till Maura came rushing in. "I got your message, Jane, what's the…is that a human head?"
"Someone sent this to BPD, and forwarded it to me. We did our best to prevent any further contamination, if any."
"What do we know about the victim?"
"Not much at this point. Only that she's female. And that the package is definitely not from Amazon."
Maura, with a pair of blue latex gloves, carefully extracted the head from the tight confines of the cardboard box. She gently traced the outer edges of the wound.
Everybody, except Frost, watched on intently.
"Rigor mortis hasn't set in yet. She couldn't have been dead for more than four hours."
Maura continued the inspection, and moved on to the orifices.
"I've got the footage."
"Pull it up."
The monitor showed a man, in a water blue USPS uniform, enter the lobby. The courier took his time, and was smiling and chatty throughout the entire interaction. He even waved when he left.
Korsak noted, "Unless the man is the world's dumbest killer…"
"…or he isn't our guy."
"Oh, my. You might want to see this."
"What is it?"
The parched lips squelched as it was parted. They watched as Maura used a pair of forceps, and she extracted something from the victim's mouth.
"There appears to be a note, of sorts, inserted in the victim's airway. It was lodged in her pharlynx, but just before her larynx." Maura inspected the note closely, "It appears to be done post-mortem."
Frankie asked, "You can tell all that from a piece of crumpled up paper?"
"If this had been inserted while the victim was alive and conscious, her pharyngeal reflex would've caused her airway to spasm and clamp shut. This was wedged much too deep to be done ante-mortem." Maura brought the note to her nose, and she sniffed it. "There doesn't appear to be any signs of gastric acid. So that strengths my origin resolute."
"Woah." Jane made a face, "You did not just smell that."
"How else was I supposed to determine the presence of gastric acid?"
Korsak carefully inspected the tiny note, "The killer wants to send us a message."
"No." Jane corrected, "The killer wants to send me a message."
"Read what it says."
"I travel the world, but always stay in a corner. What am I?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Someone's obsessed with the new season of Gotham."
Maura repeated the riddle beneath her breath, as her mind processed the possibilities.
"We don't have time for riddles. We'll run the victim through facial recognition —"
"I know!" Maura jumped, "A stamp! I'm a stamp!"
Those words struck Jane harder than a bullet ever could. The uncut sheet of stamps! Jane grabbed the box, and she gently flayed the postage from the surface. And there, written on the underside, was an address.
"666 Emerald City Avenue."
Frost said, "I'll call for back up."
"Let's move!"
They rolled out of BRIC at lightning speed, but it didn't slip Jane's mind. "Maura, you'll ride with me. This is your first case as Chief M.E, and I want you close by."
Maura appreciated Jane's thoughtfulness. But she knew that wasn't the whole story. Much like Jane, she, too, had a bad feeling about this.
- o -
The room was void. The sound of hoarse grunts filled the depths of the tiny room, and the reverberation was felt by the two parties. The air was musky. The scent of human ripeness overpowered the underlying musk. And it was disgusting.
Finn threw his hips back, and he pounded his manhood mindlessly against immobile hips. She might as well be unconscious, or dead, for the sex was one-sided. She barely moved, or participated. She was intent on saying as is: bent over a shabby desk.
Every once in a while, when Finn was a bit too rough, tiny blobs of blood clots would discharge from the girl, and ricochet onto his jeans. But that did little to deter his tenacity. It would take him another fifteen minutes to get off. It wasn't easy either. He had to take his mind elsewhere.
Finn shoved the girl's face flat against the surface, and he came in her. He didn't even bother to pull out. Finn threw his hips up, and he contacted his abs. Each droplet that parted brought a tiny wave of shivers. He didn't stop till every last drop was dispensed.
Finn pulled his pants up, and he lit up. He paid the girl no mind. She remained bent over, and lifeless, as she had been for the past half hour. He pulled the door back, and rejoined the group.
They were joined by a special guest today. An Armenian fellow by the name of, Ashen Bogdani. News of the Doyle clan gaining a strong foothold on Southie has spread like wildfire. And those that seek an alliance, and protection, knew they had to put on their best dog and pony show to impress the clan.
"Well?"
"She's tight. But inexperienced." Finn added, "And a virgin, too."
"What can I say? I only offer the highest quality of girls money can buy. That one was free. But no more freebies. If you want seconds, you'll have to pay."
"What's your asking?"
"Twelve girls. $50,000, each."
It was a no-brainer. Finn didn't even have to contemplate the offer. "No."
"What are you offering?"
"$30,000."
Ashen Bogdani was insulted, and it showed. "The only reason I tolerate you is because of your reputation as a businessman. But do not, for a second, take my kindness for weakness."
Finn took a particularly long drag. And with a deep sigh, he exhaled. "I'll go as high as $40,000. And I'll give you a 10% referral fee, for every John you throw our way. One year exclusivity. The more we make, the thicker your wallet gets. Take it, or leave it."
This was interesting. And it definitely piqued his interest. Ashen Bogdani knew a good deal when he heard one. "Deal."
Finn shook the man's hand, and sealed the deal.
When the tension had eased, and the parties settled, Ronnie couldn't hold his tongue anymore. "Hey, Finn. You mind if I take one for myself?"
Finn eyed Ashen Bogdani.
"Be my guest. They're your girls now."
Finn nodded.
Ronnie squealed harder than a child on Christmas morning.
"You want one, too, Tomlin?"
Tomlin declined, "No."
"Now that we have a deal, tell me the truth." Finn leaned forward, and snubbed his cigarette. "Just how old are these girls?"
"Have a sudden change of heart, and want to help these poor lost souls, Richard Gere? This isn't 'Pretty Woman'. There won't be a happy ending."
"I couldn't care less." Finn said truthfully. "I want to know what the turnover rate will be. Girls like these, they burn out fast. I want to know I'm getting the most bang for my buck."
"Fair enough. They're mostly fourteen. One or two, maybe, sixteen. Who knows? I certainly don't."
Ronnie returned moments later with a treasured prize of his own. The girl was tall, and frail. She didn't have an extra pound of meat on her bones. She was stained with tears, and fear and despair.
"Please! I have family here. They'll pay you!"
Ronnie heard not a single thing. He made a beeline for the tacky room, and he shoved her in. The door slammed shut. The girl's screams were muffled, but they weren't extinguished.
They overheard everything. And they didn't do a damn thing about it.
- o -
Ding dong.
The doorbell rang.
It didn't take long for the homeowner to come to the door.
"Hello, Ma'am." The man held up his ID card, "I'm with Rapid Security Systems. I'm here to conduct a monthly timer test."
"Oh. But I didn't schedule any appointments today."
"This isn't a scheduled visit. Your alarm panel is sending the station undefined signals, and it's affecting your alarm. I assure you, Ma'am, that this is fairly standard. It's to ensure the alarm signals from your residence reaches our monitoring station, in cases of genuine burglaries and emergencies. It'll only take a few minutes for complete peace of mind. And it's free of charge for our monthly subscribers."
The woman hesitated. She then gave the ID a good hard look. "Theodore Bundy."
"Yes, Ma'am." The man pointed at his van, with the company logo etched on the side, in bold black letters. "We're your service company. I'll be in and out, real quick."
It was broad daylight, and in the middle of the afternoon. With a shrug, the woman said, "Sure."
The technician closed the door behind him. He then peeled off a sticker on the side window, and he carefully pocketed it.
This was way too easy.
- o -
The TSA agent motioned for the next in line.
The man slowly approached window #7.
"Passport. And declaration."
The man handed both items over.
The TSA agent did a quick visual confirmation that the gentleman was indeed one in the same person as the passport photo. He then scanned the barcode. "What is the nature of your visit?"
"I'm here to visit family."
"Do you have items, or merchandises, that exceed the personal exemption of $800 USD?"
"Nope. I traveled light."
The TSA agent gave the man one last fleeting glance. He stamped his passport, and handed it back.
"Welcome to Boston, Mr. Giovanni. Enjoy your stay."
"Thank you. I most certainly will."
- o -
They had their weapons drawn.
"Ready when you are, Frost."
"Really put your shoulder into it."
"If I go on workers' comp, it'll be all your asses' fault."
"Excuse me." Maura interrupted, "If I may: the 'For Sale' sign up front is a dead giveaway. Might I suggest you try the doorknob, firstly?"
Neither Korsak, Frankie, nor Frost seemed particularly convinced, but there was no harm in trying. And to their surprise, the front door was unlocked. But that did nothing to quell their anxiety. In fact, if anything, this had them on edge, even more so.
Korsak had his hand on the knob, "One, two, three!"
They charged in single formation
"Boston police!"
Frost yelled, "I'll take upstairs!"
Korsak followed, "Basement!"
Frankie said, "Main floor!"
Jane fell back, and was the last to enter. "Stay close, Maura."
Maura nodded, and did as she was told.
Jane didn't lower her Glock, not until she heard Frankie yell, "Clear!"
They found the victim in the living room, hanging from the ceiling.
Jane has seen her fair share of bodies; this definitely made it into her top ten. The victim was decapitated. She hung from her torso. But that wasn't the worst of it. It was what she was wearing. The victim was in a white undershirt, and had a blue checkered dress on. And the shoes: they were red and sparkly. Anybody that's ever read 'The Wizard of Oz' will automatically recognize the outfit.
"Woah." Frankie stumbled in. "Is that supposed to be Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz?"
"It would appear so. And hence, the need for pigtails."
"It's a little early for Halloween, isn't it?"
Maura stepped closer to the body. "The noose appears to be connected to the ceiling fan."
"Frankie, run and grab us a technician. We'll need a hand with the body."
"You got it."
Jane watched with interest as Maura circled the body multiple times. All that was visible of the doctor was her nose; her head tilted upwards. "Are we inspecting the house for signs of mold, Dr. Isles?"
"Mold?" Maura was at a loss. "If it's mold you're concerned about, Jane, then don't be. Indoor air quality is often associated with other allergens, more so than common variants of mold. There are only a handful of molds that contain toxic compounds known as mycotoxins, but exposure to hazardous levels of mycotoxin via inhalation is not possible."
Jane's face said it all, "No more Google talk. Talk to me about the victim. Why were you looking up like that?"
"Right. Well, it's the noose I find interesting. The knot that's used, it's highly uncommon. It's known as a 'bottle sling' knot. Its main function is to grip an object by its neck, and lift it upon its axis. It's quite ingenious. Your killer is experienced, on many levels, particularly in the art of knots."
"Let's try not to get too excited, alright? We can get a new hashtag, #knotappreciation, trending later. Let's just wait to get the vic down first."
"Give me a hand, Jane."
"I only have the one."
Maura grabbed the victim's legs.
"Oh. We're doing this. Okay." Jane followed suit, but did so single handedly. "What, exactly, are we doing?"
"The great thing about the sling knot is that it's sturdy, but equally easy to unknot, if you know how."
"Oh, dear, Baby Jesus. Don't screw with me, woman. Please, tell me you know how. This is way too heavy for trial and error."
"Of course I do." Maura took offense, "I'm certified with the American Sailing Association for Keelboat Sailing. All we need to do is lift the body, and unhook the overhand knot from the center one, and the weave should come undone."
They lifted the victim's legs, and relived the tension from the torso.
It made a tiny click.
Jane stopped dead in her tracks. "Stop! Now!"
"What —"
"Don't move!"
Maura did as she was told. The fear and trepidation etched on Jane's face was clear as day.
"That click I just heard, I've heard it before. I'm almost certain it's from a pressurized detonator; most commonly used in VBIED."
Maura was familiar with the term, "Vehicle-borne improvised explosive device."
"Exactly. I knew what I heard. And it fits the profile, of why the lynch runs into the ceiling fan. Whatever you do, don't shift the weight, and keep the body as steady as possible."
Maura couldn't believe what she was hearing, but she trusted Jane's experience, and better judgement.
It wasn't long before Korsak and Frost joined them in the living room.
"Basement's clear."
"So is the second floor."
"I don't have time to explain. Korsak, I need you to dispatch the bomb squad. I think we just triggered an IED when we moved the body. Frost, I need you to evacuate the surrounding houses. I don't know how strong the explosive force is, but we have to assume the worst. Set the barricade at a hundred meters back."
"But, Jane, you can't —"
"Just go! Korsak, get Frost out of here. And keep Frankie the Hell away from here. You hear me?! Go!"
Neither Korsak nor Frost wanted to leave Jane's side, not like this, but she was right, there was nothing they could do for her. They had no choice. With reluctance, and a heavy conscience, they cleared the scene.
"I don't know about you, Jane, but I really don't feel like being blown up by the rapid increase in volume and release of extreme force in a direction perpendicular to the surface of the explosive, or what is colloquially known as, an explosion."
"Thanks for the distraction, Maura, but I don't think it's working."
Jane took several deep breaths to steady her right hand. But it was far too weak. The shoulder sling was tight, and rigid, but she had no other choice. She brought her left hand up, and she secured the legs with her hands clasped tight, to form a bear hug. She ignored the sharp pain in her forearm. She could survive a broken arm. She couldn't survive being blown to kingdom come.
Maura noticed this, too. "Are you getting tired?"
"Yes. I am. And so are you. You're shaking, Maura."
Maura couldn't help herself. The weight of the body, combined with the fact that she was nerve wrecked, she couldn't help but tremble. But she did everything she could to stay as still as possible.
"I've really got to stop getting myself in these situations with you, Detective Rizzoli. You're, literally, going to be the death of me."
"Well, I'm going to put this out into the universe: if we, ever, find ourselves in a life and death situation again, I'm hoping for a Sharknado." Jane then did her best valley girl accent, "Cause, you know, fire and bombs are so, like, 2005."
The distraction helped. This went on for several more minutes, but to them, it felt like hours on end.
They weren't going to make it.
Jane's left arm was going to give out at any moment. And Maura, she was starting to shake, visibly so. Any sudden movement and the detonation will trigger, without a doubt. Jane had to make a decision. She had an idea. It wasn't a good one, by any means, but it was all she got. It was either act now, or leave it up to chance. And unfortunately for her, she was never much of a gambler.
"Maura, I need you to listen to me. You're going to slowly ease your hands away from the body, and I will assume your side of the weight."
"What?! No. Not going to happen."
"I've never failed you before. I'm not going to start now. Trust me. I have a plan."
"Your plan involves you risking your ass for the two of us. I'm the one that suggested we move the body. This is my fault, Jane. If anyone should leave, it should be you."
Jane closed her eyes, and bit her lips. "I have a plan. It'll work. But I need you to do exactly as I say. Do you trust me?"
"That has nothing —"
"Do you trust me?!"
Maura exhaled, "I do."
"Good. Now slowly ease your left hand off. Go on. I got you."
Maura's movements were deliberate. And painfully slow.
"And now ease your right arm off the inner thigh."
Maura retracted her limb, like Jane asked.
Jane used her body as a sturdy support, while her right arm held much of the body weight. "Grab the radio from my belt."
Maura unclipped the radio, and pressed the PTT button.
"Korsak?"
"Go for Korsak."
"Listen. When you were in the basement, was it unfinished?"
"Yes. It's unfinished."
"Are the main floors reinforced? Could you tell?"
"No. I don't think they're reinforced, but I didn't exactly have time to inspect the structural integrity of the place. What the Hell are you planning to do, Jane? You —"
There was complete radio silence. But then, "Janie!"
It was Frankie.
"Whatever the Hell it is you're thinking, don't do it! The bomb squad's ETA is fifteen minutes! They're coming! So hold on!"
"Turn it off."
Maura did.
"Frankie's right. The bomb squad's almost here. We just have to hold out a bit longer."
"We don't have fifteen minutes." Jane explained, "The pressure sensor is too complex. There's no guarantee they'll be able to unhinge the trigger, and dispose of the fuse. And even if they could, it'll take too long. Our bodies would've given out by then."
"Jane —"
"I'm going to ease my left hand off the body. I want you to grab my Glock, and place it firmly in my palm."
Maura didn't want to. But Jane was headstrong. There was no stopping her. She grabbed the Glock from her holster, and she placed the gun firmly in Jane's left hand.
"I'm going to give you ten seconds. When I begin the countdown, I want you to run as fast, and as far, as you can from here. Do you understand?"
"No! Not until you tell me whatever the Hell it is you're thinking!"
Jane didn't have a second to spare, so she relented. "The hub around the ceiling fan. It's small. You can only pack so much explosive into such a confined space. And remember, the house is vacant. That works to our advantage."
Maura had no idea what vacancy has anything to do with their situation.
"The explosion will be strong, but not deadly."
"You think so?"
"I know so." Jane's right arm slipped, but she caught herself in time, and she retightened her grip. "Get ready to run, Maura."
"What —"
"Go!" Jane screamed. "Ten...nine..."
Maura locked eyes with Jane, and they conveyed raw emotions. This will be her second time abandoning Jane for her own safety, and selfishness. But Maura was done running. She swore to all that is Holy, there will not be a third time. If need be, she was willing to give up her own life, to keep that sacred vow.
Maura turned on her heels, and she bolted for the door.
"...Four…Three…Two…One!"
Jane pointed her Glock, and she aimed the barrel directly at the floor below. She pulled the trigger. She rapid fired her gun into the laminated floor beneath her. She only had seventeen rounds, so she had to be smart with her bullets. The diameter of the circle was small; only enough to encircle her being. By the time her clip was empty, the floorboard was shot to Hell, but it still held.
There was no turning back.
Jane stomped on the floor, repeatedly. The laminated floorboard finally gave way. And gravity did the rest.
The large range of motions triggered the detonator. It clicked for a second time. The fuse ignited, and an untamed fireball sent a blast wave rippling in every direction. It destroyed everything in its merciless path.
- o -
Maura ran from the house as fast as she could.
But she didn't get far enough. She wasn't even off the lawn, when the explosive force of the bomb blew out the windows, and sent her flying several meters back.
Maura landed violently, with unconstrained force. She ricocheted off the ground with the elasticity of a bouncy ball, before her limp body stilled. It was lights out.
- o -
A/N: Trick or treat. Give me something good to eat. Not too big. Not too small. Just the size of Montreal.
