Chapter 2
"Desmond and Edwards here to meet with Detective Bagley," Francine flashed her badge at the officer covering the desk.
"I'll call him. He's upstairs right now," the officer explained before he lifted the phone and punched several numbers. "Yeah, can you tell Herman he has visitors? A couple of agents from the Agency. Will do." He hung up the phone and indicated a bench several feet down the hall, "Have a seat over there. Bagley will be down in a minute."
Francine and Tom sat down and scanned the area. They noticed several officers escorting in two detainees which they promptly deposited on the bench beside Francine. She scooted over several inches to create space between her and the man. "Hey, toots, how about you and I get a drink later," one man slurred at her. Francine rolled her eyes and looked away, hoping he would simply leave her alone. "Jackie, I think she's trying…trying…to ignore me," the man hiccupped as he elbowed his handcuffed buddy beside him. Edwards snorted when the man edged his way closer to Francine as he said, "Toots, I know…I know…I know I may not look like a rock star but I know I could rock your world." Francine stood and moved to the other side of Tom without replying. The man turned back to his friend once more and uttered, "She doesn't believe me, Jackie. Maybe I should show her the goods. Maybe that would change her mind, huh?"
Jackie groaned, "Bud, that's why we got arrested in the first place. You showed your goods to that hooker down on Berkley, remember? Or are you still too drunk to remember?"
"I'm not drunk…not yet anyway. As soon as we get out of here I will be. Besides, I figured that hooker would be honest and tell me what she really thought," Bud countered.
"I'm sure if you paid her the twenty bucks she asked for, she wouldn't have called the cops and ran. Instead, we get picked up for you exposing yourself in public and being openly intoxicated. I was only there to pick you up from that bar and yet, here I am! Sitting beside you in handcuffs," Jackie's voice rose angrily. "I didn't even do anything except try to be a good friend." Tom tried to cover his face to hide his laughter but Jackie noticed him. "What are you laughing at?"
"You two," Tom admitted. He jumped when Francine grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the bench. "What?" he asked confused.
"Don't engage any more than you have too. Rule number one in a police station," she informed him. She leaned against the hall and craned her neck, hoping to see the detective heading in their direction. She visibly sighed when she saw a portly gentleman, wearing an ill-fitting gray suit, a badge dangling from around his neck, heading in their direction. "Detective Bagley?" she asked.
"That's me. And you're from the Agency?" Herman Bagley held out his hand. Francine and Tom offered their badges for examination. "Here, follow me. We can talk in private," he stated before he turned away and walked toward the stairs. Francine and Tom followed him to a small conference room in the basement. "Sorry about the musty smell. We had a pipe burst this winter down here and they're still pulling out the carpets." He sat down in one of the large, fabric-covered chairs and asked, "So, what does the Agency want with me?"
Francine dropped her purse on the table and sat down, Tom taking the seat beside her. "We are here about the recent string of murders you're currently investigating," she explained.
"The Maternity Murders?" Herman asked.
"The what?" Tom gasped.
"The Maternity Murders…that's what we've been calling them, for lack of a better description. What interest does the Agency have in this case?" Herman questioned.
Francine folded her hand on the table and explained, "Victim number six, Damaris Katsaros. Her father is concerned her death is direct retaliation to how he viewed the international adoption debate last month. He wants answers, plain and simple."
Herman pursed his lips, stood up and said, "Hang on, I'll get the case files." He left the room, leaving Francine and Tom sitting alone.
"I hope we're not down here all day. He's right, it stinks down here," Tom complained.
"Hey, it could be worse. You could have to spend the day with Dr. Pain like Lee is right now," Francine laughed.
Tom shook his head, "I had my first exposure to him a few weeks ago. He did an introductory class for us newer agents."
"How'd you handle it?" Francine asked, genuinely interested.
"Why do you think I'm limping? He got me just right on that hip. I know the doctors said it could take almost a full year for this to heal but, damn, I never expected this," Tom admitted.
Francine grimaced, "What did you do?"
Tom laughed, "Honestly? I yelled like a little girl, then gritted my teeth and tackled him as best as I could. Hey, it wasn't Karate Kid worthy but I got him on his back before the pain became unbearable."
Before Francine could reply, Herman reappeared carrying a stack of files that he promptly spread across the table. "They're numbered one to eight. Like you said, Katsaros is number six."
Francine opened the case file and began scanning the handwritten notes. "Has the official cause of death been discovered yet?" she asked. Tom opened the first file and began making notes on a small pad of paper.
"Well, yes and no. They ran a basic tox screen and found several drugs in her system. The few that stood out the most were Pitocin, Heparin, and Morphine," Herman stated.
"Wait, Pitocin. Isn't that given to start contractions?" Francine questioned as she continued to flip through the pages before her.
Herman confirmed, "It is, but Heparin is a blood thinner which is rarely given to pregnant women during labor. And then there's the Morphine. The medical examiner has a theory on what that combination could mean but the latest victim has sort of thrown us off. The only drug found in her system was the Pitocin."
"Wait, are you suggesting their deaths were caused by the heparin and morphine?" Tom interjected, his pen frozen mid-word.
"Well, the ME suggested the official cause of death was massive hemorrhaging, stimulated by the introduction of a large dose of heparin right before birth. The morphine levels weren't lethal, so he believes they may have been injected to make the entire process painless," Herman stated.
Francine whistled low before she said, "That's quite a theory. Any suspects?"
Herman pursed his lips, "No, not a single one. All the bodies were discarded in dumpsters on the outskirts of the city, and, of course, there were no security cameras in any of the areas. All the victims are of different races, nationalities, ages. The only common thread is they were all pregnant and none appeared to be in a committed relationship at the time."
"A committed relationship…you mean they weren't married?" Edwards clarified.
"Not married, no longer dating, or the fathers of the babies don't appear to be in the picture whatsoever," Herman emphasized.
Francine scanned another file and added, "So, they would all have been single mothers?"
"If anyone of them actually decided to keep their babies, then yes," Herman confirmed.
Edwards, once again confused, "I don't know that I understand what you mean."
"From what most of the families have told us, each of these women were considering giving up their babies for adoption," Herman stated.
"When you say, most of the families, do you mean that you've identified all the women and talked to their families?" Francine asked.
Herman pulled out a handwritten list with each victim's names written in a column. In a second column was a contact name, relationship, and telephone number for five of the eight names. "We've identified seven of the eight. Five of them, we've spoken with the families and they are beyond devastated. One of them is your Grecian Diplomat. We've been unable to have any further contact with him minus the day he identified the body. He hasn't been an easy man to talk to. Another victim had no other family that we can find. The last is our unidentified victim, although, we have two leads. One is from a homeless shelter and the other is from a woman who claims it is her daughter who ran away several months ago. She'd be just over eighteen if it is. We're waiting for a positive ID."
"Is she going to come to identify the remains?" Francine questioned.
Herman shook his head, "She lives out of state and is disabled. She's sending us a few photographs to try to make a match with that. The victim has several other tattoos which we didn't mention in the news report, however, the mother was able to describe one of them in detail. Unfortunately, it's a pretty common design, so we can't use that information until we have some evidence to compare it to."
"And that's where the pictures will come in, right?" Tom asked as he furiously jotted down notes.
"Hopefully. I hate to see families that have no answers. I think the not-knowing is much worse than knowing. The evils you know versus the evils you don't," Herman stated solemnly.
Francine stacked the folders into a neat pile before she handed them back to the detective. "Could you have copies of these sent to the Agency?" she asked.
"Will do. Anything else?" Detective Bagley added.
"I think that will do it for now. We're going to have a conversation with Mr. Katsaros later today. If we come up with anything else, we'll let you know," Francine informed him.
The detective stood and shook her hand before shaking Edwards, "I look forward to anything you might find. Follow me, I'll escort you out."
As they climbed the stairs back to the main hallway, Jackie and Bud were still sitting on the same bench. Bud noticed Francine immediately and began calling over to her to get her attention, "Hey, hey, Blondie. Help a guy out, will ya?"
Francine groaned at Edwards, "Let's get out of here before I hurt that guy."
Edwards took one last look in Bud's direction and called out, "She's not interested, buddy. Maybe next time."
An officer standing at the counter laughed loudly and added, "For Bud, there won't be a next time."