TMM - Chapter 6
Stephanie stood at the window watching her husband's face in the glow from his cell phone. She felt rather than heard Jeanne Ellen come up behind her. She was insane to be staying here. No other option. Clearly and totally insane.
'It's time to get to work," Jeanne Ellen said softly. Stephanie turned around.
"Don't we need to wait for Joe to fax over the..." she stopped speaking when Jeanne Ellen raised an eyebrow. "I know, stupid question." Stephanie waited until Joe pulled away from the curb before turning to follow Jeanne Ellen. They passed through the kitchen and went down into the basement. Jeanne Ellen stopped in front of a keycoded door and punched in a number. She stood back and smiled at Stephanie.
"The nerve center," she proclaimed proudly before she pushed the door open.
Stephanie stepped over the threshold and stopped cold. Wall to wall monitors lined the far side of the room, and three people in wheeled chairs rolled back and forth between keyboards while another person paced behind the chairs watching the screens with an intense concentration that she admired.
"Holy shit," Stephanie swore softly. The person who had been pacing, a slight man with dark skin and dreadlocks, stopped in front of Jeanne Ellen.
"Anything new, Ron?" The bounty hunter asked.
"Nada," Ron said. "We've run the prints that you picked up in the alley. The first set belonged to Ms. Plum. The rest was a jumble. I have the blood running now. We should have the results in..." he checked his watch. "Ten minutes." Jeanne Ellen nodded, satisfied.
"Good," she turned to Stephanie. "Ron, this is Stephanie Plum. Stephanie, meet Ron Elkins. You might call Ron the power behind the image." Ron ducked his head, seemingly embarrassed, before cracking a huge smile.
"And it's true, all of it," he attested. Jeanne Ellen slid next to Ron and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, accentuating the nearly foot difference in height.
"Ron did his undergrad work at Harvard and his doctorate at MIT," Jeanne Ellen explained, "He runs the technical division of my corporation but has kindly granted me his help on this case."
"Nice to meet you," Stephanie said feeling slightly intimidated by the young man's credentials. He couldn't be more than 23 or 24, and had accomplished so much at such a young age. It was a bit daunting. Ron smiled warmly and Stephanie forced herself to relax as she took his hand. Jeanne Ellen moved to stand next to a young woman with pink hair.
"This is Sarah. You may recognize her. I hired her away from Rangeman when Khari took over. She's normally in charge of my home base. She developed a software by which she can slip undetected into any system. She's invaluable when it comes to gleaning information we normally wouldn't be able to touch," Jeanne Ellen said. Sarah smiled and extended her hand to Stephanie.
"I don't think we've ever met before," Stephanie said.
"No, we haven't. Not in person. Nice to meet you, Stephanie," the younger woman said graciously. Jeanne Ellen moved down the line to a young Asian woman who was still typing frantically.
"This is Ji. She monitors the police band across the country. We're watching locally for killings with the same MO and nationally for the same reason. Ji is more or less freelance and a whiz at speed reading and police codes." Ji raised a hand in greeting and grunted. "She doesn't stop for anything." Jeanne Ellen explained laughing. She moved on to the last person. A handsome young man with very light hair and movie star good looks.
"This is Jack Cramer. No pun intended, he's our jack of all trades. Mostly he's been monitoring the crime satellite activity," Jeanne Ellen turned back to Ron as Stephanie mumbled a greeting to Jack and he nodded at her before turning back to the monitors he'd been scanning.
"You've looked over the paperwork that I sent down?" Jeanne Ellen asked making her way to a small round table which held paperwork and pictures that Stephanie remembered having littered her own kitchen table.
"I did. I've got a profiler at the FBI that I see from time to time working something up for me. The first impression is that we have a classic Jack the Ripper copycat without the mutilation. As you know, Jack the Ripper left calling cards with his victims. This killer leaves his calling card in the form of a small red bead. Not significant unless you zoom in on the object. The coroner..." Ron shuffled through the papers until he found what he was looking for, "Aziza Houdra was the coroner on this case. She dismissed the bead as insignificant as it hadn't been found with all the victims. My guess is the reason it wasn't was sloppy police work." He turned to Stephanie, "No offense because I know the lead is your husband but, really, I would bet my right arm that the bead could have been found with all of the bodies. It does mix in with the blood rather well but there's one thing that stands out." Ron picked a close up of the incision off of the table. Stephanie shuddered violently and found her knees buckling. She could have sworn that Ron rolled his eyes as he ran for a chair. He settled her in before continuing.
"If you'll notice," he said, " There are small gold marks forming the shape of the Christian Cross." Jeanne Ellen sucked in a deep breath.
"We're got a religious crusader on our hands," she said.
"Exactly," Ron confirmed.
"But..." Stephanie began. She stopped and blushed when not only Jeanne Ellen and Ron turned to stare at her but so did the people at the monitors.
"Go on," Jeanne Ellen prompted.
"If this is a religious crusader...well...why me?" she asked.
"Honey," Jeanne Ellen said softly. "If this a religious crusader why anyone? This angle makes it impossible for us to predict this killers next move. We have no real connections between any of the victims. If we wanted to stretch we could cite your familial relationship with the third victim. It doesn't play out, Steph."
"So we're never going to catch this guy," Stephanie said feeling a bit deflated. Her natural resentment of Jeanne Ellen had been pushed aside to make way for grudging respect and that was all going away now. Jeanne Ellen smiled as she looked down at Stephanie.
"Whoever said that?" she purred. "Of course we're going to catch him and he'd better start praying now if I happen to catch him alone."
"Boss?" Li called. Jeanne Ellen rushed to her side. "We have a homicide at Trenton General. Word on the police band is that it fits the MO." Jeanne Ellen nodded and turned to Stephanie.
"You came straight from Trenton General with Joe?" she asked.
"Yes," Stephanie answered nervously.
"And you're going back now. If you're a draw then we're drawing this sucker out tonight," Jeanne Ellen said as she pulled Stephanie from a seated position and dragged her from the chair. She turned to Ron.
"Anything you get..." Jeanne Ellen began. Ron stopped her.
"Call you at once," Ron finished. Jeanne Ellen nodded and dragged a stumbling Stephanie behind her as she ran up the stairs.
Joe strolled into the police station determined to get whatever the Chief had for him out of the way so that he could find Khari and look over the evidence. Eddie intercepted him just as he entered the corridor leading to the Chief of Police's office.
"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Eddie advised. Joe stopped and Eddie leaned back to lounge against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I can handle it, trust me," Joe said. He kept walking down the hallway.
"Fine," Eddie said casually. "Thing is that the boss is gonna take you off the case and I'm gonna give you the perp on a nice little silver platter. Whatever works for you, man." Joe turned slowly and got the see the full impact of Eddie's triumphant smile. Should he hit the man first, or hit him after he got what he wanted out of him? He decided to go for the latter and followed Eddie out into the cubicle area that the detectives called their home away from home. Eddie had been promoted to detective a few months before because of a shortage of warm bodies in the homicide unit. The slightly rounder and shorter man pushed the papers away as he sat at the computer and clicked on his bookmarks. Within seconds a young face appeared on the screen. No way was this kid the man that they were looking for. He was...well, too young for one thing.
"Adam Alan Holmes," Eddie said dramatically. "Formerly of Byron, Georgia just southwest of Macon. He escaped from Central State Hospital for the Criminally Insane about a year ago. He'd killed his mother and gotten himself enough time to never see the light of day again. The local police, for whatever reason, waited two weeks before contacting the grandmother. They found her dead in the basement with her throat slit. There are two homicides with this MO in Tarpon Springs, Florida. Two more, same MO exactly, in Raleigh, North Carolina. In Virginia he got one in Richmond and one in Virginia Beach."
"He was moving north. But why kill three here? Why not continue the pattern and basically do a pass through of the town?" Joe mused aloud.
"You want me to answer that?" Eddie asked. Joe shook himself out of the reverie he'd fallen into as Eddie had numerated the number of deaths.
"There's a big fish here. One he hasn't been able to pull in. She keeps getting off of his hook and he's waiting to finish the job before he moves on," Eddie sat back in the chair.
"Stephanie," Joe whispered. Cold dread seeping through his limbs.
"Maybe not. He failed with her for sure but he was in town a long time before he went after her," Eddie clarified. "It could always be someone else."
"Not making me feel better," Joe said.
"Not trying to make you feel better, buddy," Eddie answered. "I'm trying to face facts." The intercom on Eddie's phone crackled to life.
"Eddie?" a female voice lilted through the intercom. Joe recognized it instantly as that of fellow homicide detective, Cheri Harper. Eddie pressed the intercom button.
"What's up, Cheri?"
"Morelli back there with you?" she asked. Joe glanced at Eddie questioningly. Eddie shrugged and shook his head. Joe learned forward and hit the button.
"I'm here, Cheri," Joe said.
"Thought you'd want to know, Joe, your perp hit again," Cherie said. "Trenton General. The victim has been identified as a nurse who got off work about two hours ago."
"I'm on my way," Joe said before turning to rush toward the exit.
Aziza shifted around so that she was lying full length on one of the sofas in the lobby of the county morgue. She leaned back, exhausted and exasperated. Khari reclined in a chair across from her. She narrowed her eyes to check the clock on the wall and noticed that it was after 1 am.
"You did call Joe, right? He did say he's coming?" she asked no one in particular. No point in asking Khari as the answer was plain...they were still waiting.
"Of course, he's coming," Khari said sounded slightly irritated himself. Khari checked the clock. "It's been less than an hour since I called Joe. He said that he'd call us after his command performance with the Chief of Police. That could take a while." They sat in silence for another moment while Aziza worked up the confidence to say what she'd been wanting to say all night.
"Khari..." she began and then stopped. She closed her eyes. She was a conservative girl. She didn't say forward things to men. What would her mother say? Unfortunately, her mother would tell her that she's not getting any younger and should go for what she can get. Umm (this is really honestly the Arabic word for mother) Houdra had been parading men past her daughter for years hoping that she might find one appealing enough to procreate.
"Yes," Khari said. His bass tone, which was as smooth as melting butter dripping down her spine, wasn't helping matters. Aziza took a fortifying breath.
"Did you ever wonder what might have happened between us if..." Aziza stopped. She couldn't go on. She couldn't stand being so vulnerable but his answer meant more to her than it should have. Khari didn't disappoint.
"It would have been great," he said, his voice slightly dreamy as though this was a subject he'd given a lot of thought. Aziza smiled.
"It would have," she agreed. She sighed deeply again.
"Maybe...if you wanted...and you weren't busy...maybe," Aziza stumbled over her words. They just wouldn't come out properly. She looked over at Khari and he was leaning forward almost begging her to finish. She calmed her nerves and tried again.
"Maybe if you're not busy tomorrow night we could have dinner?" Aziza asked.
"I still carry a gun, Aziza," he said almost too softly to be heard.
"I know, Khari, and I won't claim that it doesn't bother me. I'm going to need some time to get used to seeing a gun on you. Guns make me...well, they mean violence and death, don't they?" Aziza had no idea what power was pushing her forward in this conversation.
"They do," Khari agreed. "Sometimes."
"And maybe if we knew each other better you could understand why I reacted as I did that first time, and why, with your help I can understand," Aziza said. Khari smiled and Aziza felt pure joy.
"I'd love to have dinner with you anytime, Aziza. I have been..." Khari began. He stopped when Aziza's cell phone started to ring.
"Hello," she said. She listened intently for a moment and Khari watched as her expression turned dark. Something was seriously wrong. Aziza's hand started to tremble. "I'll be right there," she said, flipping the phone shut. Khari raised an eyebrow as Aziza worked to steady her nerves.
"They found another body. Akilah Manchester," Aziza said.
"You knew her?" Khari said flatly.
"Yes, she...yes," Aziza confirmed.
"Let's go, I'm driving," Khari said. He took Aziza's hand and lead her through the door. Despite the blood and death at the scene he knew that this once he had to swallow his fear and face it head on. He would fight any personal demon to be by her side on this. Aziza needed him to be with her and he would not let her down.
Adam Holmes stood near the entrance of the hospital. He rarely had the luxury of watching the police work on one of his victims. The whole process was rather interesting. Normally he tried to kill where he'd be long gone before the body was found but this one was unavoidable. He recognized Stephanie Plum's husband...the man who looked like a cop. Clearly he was in change of the scene. Very efficient and good at his job. Adam approved of his work. He pushed a newly dyed lock of chestnut brown hair out of his eyes. His eyes scanned the crowd. A tall black man was pushing through the gathered mob with a small woman with very dark curls at his side. She was pretty. If only he were finished doing God's work he would go over and ask for her number. She was getting too close to the body. If she touched the red light of sin she'd be contaminated and Adam couldn't let that happen. She was young and innocent. Another life could not be wasted.
Adam moved forward on the fringe of the crowd trying to get a better look. Surely he'd know when the pretty dark haired lady touched the vile creature he'd killed. Surely there would be a sign. He noticed as he drew nearer that she had pulled on gloves. He sighed in relief. She would not be touched by the tainted blood of the wicked. She was wise and would be saved. The panic he'd felt drained away and he knew with sudden clarity that the dark curls would be his companion and reward. She would stand with him and understand him and never again would they be touched with sin. Adam moved back into the crowd his eyes never leaving the woman he loved. There would be time for them once the red light of sin was purged and Stephanie Plum was dead.
End Chapter 6