A/N: Well, since you had to wait so long for the last chapter and were so patient and are such awesome readers here you get the next chapter *super fast*!!! YAY :P
And YAY again: My beta is alive and kicking! She beta'd the last chapter (and I replaced it, if you are curious to see her changes, go back read it again) and this chapter, so yeah, thanks so much Ktwesterna for your fast beta work!
And I want to thank everyone for your condolences and sympathy. You all are the best. Love you all.
I have mixed feelings about this chapter. Any suggestions and criticism is welcomed.
Their Day in Baltimore
Chapter 12
Tony smiled as yet another young woman attached herself to him. The blonde was literally wrapped around his arm and was obviously very eager to trap said limb between her enormous breasts. It was a crude attempt to attract his attention and even if he hadn't been undercover, that kind of display wouldn't have impressed Tony very much. The Italian certainly enjoyed the occasional meaningless one night stand from time to time, but even he had standards and – most important of all - taste. Not every luscious blonde who rubbed her female body parts in his face got a free ticket into his bed. Style and grace was something he could definitely appreciate in a woman.
He'd seen enough dense bed bunny's when he was still living with his father to be permanently satisfied.
But this wasn't about him and his preferences. This was about the job and a nice lady at his side could only reinforce the cover story he'd built for himself. Not to mention that both Lowe and Speer had been in female company when their murderer had approached them.
So, although he normally would have liked nothing more than to brush the blue-eyed nuisance aside and ignore her, he shot her a lewd grin and asked her if she would like another drink.
She giggled and Tony barely kept himself from wincing. His headache had just gotten worse.
"Oh, I'd love one, dear. Get me a Margarita would you?"
Tony nodded and left as fast as he could without actually looking as though he was fleeing. He weaved through the crowd, apologizing from time to time when he stepped on someone's foot, and tried to keep an eye out for anyone suspicious. That feat would have been a lot easier to accomplish if he hadn't been surrounded by artists who acted odd – others might call it eccentric - by default. (1)
And something else complicated his mission even further; The Mona Lisa wasn't just a bar. It was a huge bar. The Mona Lisa was a three story building, each floor filled with at least two dozen tables and sitting areas, all of them taken almost immediately once the doors opened. This was probably the only decent meeting place for young artists Baltimore had to offer and it was therefore pretty packed most of the time.
Tony bumped into yet another customer and mumbled another quick apology.
Something else Mike had apparently forgotten to mention was the fact that the Mona Lisa was obviously one of those new, gloomy and dark places that seemed to pop up all over the city. Especially younger people apparently couldn't get enough of the poor lit places, the depressing music and the smell of smoke and alcohol clinging to their clothes. Those bars were intentionally stifling and the damp air tasted used and all other kinds of nasty.
It was certainly not a place Anthony DiNozzo would choose to relax after a hard day of work.
But he wasn't Anthony DiNozzo tonight. Tonight he was Anthony DiMartino, a young bachelor from out of town who wanted to open his very own art gallery and was still looking for promising young artists to support. DiMartino, the son of a very wealthy man, had no qualms over using Daddy's money to sponsor his – mostly short-lived – projects.
That little tidbit of background information had been Tony's idea and he had been very adamant about involving it into his cover story. It had amused him greatly to imagine his father as a benefactor of struggling young artists. The only art his father had ever acknowledged had been the colored diagrams his staff had presented him with to show him how much money he'd made during the year.
Tony snorted at the thought but thinking of DiNozzo Sr. also reminded him of the look Gibbs had sported when he'd mentioned his father and the chuckle died in his throat.
The look Gibbs had thrown him had been... odd. There had been irritation but also curiosity and disbelief and something that almost looked like guilt. Tony still shuddered when he remembered the few seconds when their eyes had met from across the room. Gibbs eyes had been so intense. Piercing, really. Tony had felt as if the man was staring right into his soul and for the first time in a long time he had been forced to look away first.
For a short, terrifying moment, Tony had thought that Gibbs knew something he shouldn't. He had dispelled that idea almost immediately, though. The Agent knew nothing and it would stay that way. It was better that way. He had convinced himself of that a long time ago.
'Speaking of Gibbs' Tony thought when he finally reached the bartender. 'Where is the man?'
This was the third night Tony spent at the Mona Lisa but it was only the first for Gibbs. The Agent had fumed when Tony had tried to convince him that he couldn't accompany him every night, that they had to switch the surveillance if they didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. They had to assume that their killer knew the Mona Lisa like the back of his hand. It was common MOof serial killers to only hunt in places familiar to them. And while the Mona Lisa was well patronized, most of the customers were regulars. The bartender had told Mike that there were very rarely new faces and if there were, they seldom came back a second time. It would have looked suspicious if there were suddenly various new faces that appeared at the same day, visited the same nights but never associated with each other.
It would certainly strike their suspect as odd, especially considering that he had to know that the police was looking for him.
Gibbs hadn't been impressed with his reasoning, but Tony hadn't expected anything else anyway. The Italian had stood his ground though and in the end gotten his wish. After all, this was much more his investigation than it was Gibbs' since it had been his idea. He suspected that there would be repercussions later, but for now he didn't worry too much about Gibbs' foul mood.
And it wasn't like Gibbs had stayed home and twiddled his thumbs or anything. Despite Tony's protests the older man had spent the last two nights in a van just outside the Mona Lisa, seemingly surviving on coffee alone. One of DiNozzos colleagues had told him that the Agent's eyes had never left the bar.
'I tell you D, that guy was trying to look through the wall.' he'd told him. 'And believe it or not, I actually think he succeeded. How scary is that, man.'
Tony had merely shrugged and laughed it off but, on the inside, his thoughts had been whirling. Either the man was worried about his well being, or he just didn't trust Tony to not bust this operation.
Truthfully, both possibilities filled him with unease.
But tonight Gibbs hadn't been able to bear his enforced absence any longer and had finally declared that he'd either go with Tony, or none of them would go at all.
Tony had pretended to suffer greatly when he'd agreed but secretly he was a little bit relieved. If there was someone he actually wanted at his back during an undercover assignment, it was Gibbs. Despite everything that had happened, Tony was still trusting that man completely when it came to work. If someone was able to catch that killer, it was Gibbs.
'Ah well, with my help of course. If I could find him, that is.' the Italian thought with a wry smile while he ordered a Coke for himself. He didn't bother with the Margarita just yet since he had no intention of going back to his 'date' any time soon. His ears were still ringing from her shrill laughter.
They had decided to keep their distance as much as possible without loosing eye contact, but it wouldn't surprise Tony if the man actually got lost in the crowd. Many of the detectives before Gibbs had had the same problems and truthfully, Gibbs didn't look like a man that spent his nights in bars. He probably stayed home most of the time. Maybe he had an interesting hobby like carpentry or something...
Tony was lost in his thoughts and didn't pay attention to the man that had appeared just behind him. When that man tapped him on the shoulder however, he was brought out of his thoughts long enough to turn around and face his new company.
Only experience and natural talent stopped his face from showing any kind of reaction.
The man that stood in front of him was a few inches taller than him but far more broad. His hair was dark and his face was strangely soft for such a big man. The nose was long and elegant, the lips thin and crooked. His eyes were blue as far as Tony could tell. In the light of the bar though, they almost seemed gray, making him look older than he probably was.
In front of him stood their killer, Tony was sure of that. It wasn't just the vague likeness to the man Maria had described that convinced him of that. It was the glint in that man's eyes, the crooked smile on the thin lips that looked more threatening than friendly. It was the way he held himself, stiff and alert but trying to look relaxed and care free, and the way he'd positioned himself between Tony and the rest of the bar, almost pinning the young man to the counter. Probably an unconscious act to keep his victim from running.
Not that the young detective had any intention of escaping. Quite the contrary. An expert in the human nature might have been able to catch the flash of recognition in Tony's eyes, but to the average man – or murderer – it was simply impossible. Before his brain was even finished processing everything, Tony was already lounging back against the bar, giving his new 'friend' the opportunity to shuffle even closer.
"What can I do for you?" he asked with a sweet, innocent smile.
Mystery man smile back, but there was nothing innocent about it. It was all teeth and menace. "Are you Mr. DiMartino?"
"Sure am." Tony said and held out his hand which was immediately grabbed in a crushing handshake. "You can call me Tony, but only if you tell me your name too, Stranger."
Another flash of teeth. "'Name's Leonardo. Call me Leo please."
Tony smiled pleasantly at 'Leo'. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that the name was a fake. Seemed like their killer wasn't very imaginative.
"Oh, like the great Leonardo Da Vici?" His voice oozed with admiration and surprise he didn't feel. "What a coincidence. I guess that's why you are here, huh?"
"You could say that." Leo murmured. "I heard that you were looking for new artists for your art gallery."
"Yeah." Tony tilted his head as if he was sizing him up. "Why? You an artist?"
There was that unpleasant smile again. The smile of someone who was thinking about something else entirely.
"Well yes I am. I have been drawing for years now. My latest two works are my best. I thought maybe I could show them to you."
The Italian felt a shiver run down his spine like a cold drop of water. If there had been any doubts about Leo being their killer, they had evaporated with the mention of his two latest works. Works that had undoubtedly turned up dead, beaten and naked.
And what did he mean when he said that his 'latest' two works were the best? Had there been others before Lowe and Speer? And if so, why hadn't they known about them?
A sudden sense of clarity hit him. "Sure, why not. Say, do you live nearby or are you just visiting?"
Leo's face lightened up and a genuine smile spread over his face. Now that he had what he wanted he looked like an eager little kid, which was disturbing for a completely different reason.
'Yeah, killing is such a blast, isn't it bastard?!' Tony thought with disgust while his face revealed nothing.
"I live in Baltimore, but I only got here three months ago. Before that I lived in California."
Tony feigned interest but in reality he was already wondering how many more victims they would find in California.
The bartender came back with Tony's Coke and the young detective took a listless sip. He wasn't all that thirsty anymore but he didn't want to appear suspicious. He almost choked on the liquid though, when the bartender leaned over the counter and slapped Leo's shoulder with a wide grin on his face.
"Hey man. Haven't see you here in a while. Where have you been?"
"Oh, you know, here and there."
The two men continued their friendly small talk while Tony finished his drink and tried very hard not to beat Mr. Bartender into a bloody pulp.
Mike had asked the man if anyone he knew fitted Maria's description and that guy had pointblank denied it. Which was obviously a lie, since the two of them seemed to be pretty good friends.
Mike had wanted to let the bartender in on their plan but Tony and Gibbs had decided that it would be better to keep him in the dark. Something had told him that they should trust no one and Tony was incredibly grateful that he'd listened to his gut feeling. It certainly looked like their bartender and Leo were quite familiar with each other. Familiar enough to warn each other.
Fortunately, Mr. Bartender obviously hadn't taken Detective Boston's inquiry all that seriously and hadn't told his friend about the visit. Otherwise, Leo wouldn't be here tonight, that was for sure.
Well, too bad for them, good for Tony.
"Wow, this place is packed tonight, isn't it?" Leo said and looked around the crowd. Tony copied his actions and seized the chance to scan their surroundings for any sign of Agent Gibbs. He was growing more and more nervous by the minute. Where was the man? And where were the others for that matter?!
"Great isn't it?" Mr. Bartender said. "Business is going strong these days."
"I see that." Leo said and adopted an expression of exasperation. "It'll be a pain to go through that, though." He turned a hopeful eye on his friend. "You don't think we could use the back exit?" He pointed to a door behind the counter that Tony hadn't noticed until now since it was pretty much hidden between two tall shelves.
A frown marred Mr. Bartender's face but Tony immediately realized that it wasn't real. He felt like he was witnessing a well practiced play and couldn't help but watch it unfolding in morbid fascination. No doubt Speer and Lowe had seen the exact same thing before they'd died.
"I don't know Leo. That's only for the personnel and emergencies. I could loose my job if anyone found out."
"Come on, we won't tell anybody. I want to show Tony my work." Suddenly, he slapped his forehead and turned to Tony, as though just realizing something. It almost looked real. "Oh, I mean if you want to do it now, that is. I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?"
Tony was faced with a difficult choice. If he went with Leo, they wouldn't leave through the front door were two dozen police officers would be waiting for them. Because no matter how much Mr. Bartender pretended to hesitate, Leo's script said that he would lead his next victim through the back door - as he had the others -, so that was what would happen.
They had known about the back door of course, but they had also known that it was only used by personnel and in case of an emergency. Everyone had gathered at the front, convinced that this would be the only way to leave. Only one or two probies had been parked at the back, just to be sure. But nobody had bothered to send an experienced officer to oversee them. There had been no need for that.
Or so they'd thought.
And to make matters worse, he still couldn't find Gibbs. If he went with Leo right now, he had no way of knowing whether the Agent would see it or not. Maybe he would be on his own as soon as he went through that door. He had faith in his abilities, but this man had killed at least two men, maybe more, with his bare hands. Tony wasn't stupid enough to think that arresting Leo would be a walk in the park.
But he also knew that this was probably their only chance to catch him. If he said no, Leo would most likelychange his mind and he risked having Mr. Bartender making the connection to the police and telling his friend about the visit.
Leo was their killer. There was not a shadow of a doubt in Tony's mind about that. There was something distinctly evil about that man. He could feel it in his bones, taste it on his tongue and smell it in the air.
Could he really just go and risk having this monster find another look-a-like that he would lure away through that back exit? Could he really forgive himself, should they find the third victim in a nearby park, just because he had wanted to play it safe?
The answer was quite simple, really.
"Of course not. I'd love to see them now." He shot another small glace at the people surrounding them but still couldn't find what he was looking for. "But I'm really okay with fighting my way through the crowd. Don't want to cause our friend here too much trouble." he offered with a sheepish smile. It was worth a try, wasn't it?
But Leo waved it off "I'm sure it's not a problem." He stared into Mr. Bartender's eyes and this time you didn't need to look too closely to see the unspoken threat in them. "Right buddy?"
The bartender shifted from foot to foot before he finally smiled a weak smile. "Of course not. Please follow me."
He retrieved a little silver key that hung around his neck and moved to open the door with nervous fingers. Leo made an 'after you' gesture and although Tony really didn't want this man at his back he complied with a polite nod.
He only just saw but ignored the victorious smile on Leo's lips and the guilt in Mr. Bartender's eyes as he passed them and stepped through the door. Just as he ignored the dizziness that suddenly seemed to cloud his mind with each step he took.
And as the door closed behind them with a bang and an even louder voice – a voice that sounded disturbingly like Gibbs – told him that he was making a big mistake, he ignored that too.
TBC
Oh Tony. Don't ignore inner-Gibbs-voice. It never does you any good.
(1) I draw from time to time myself and writing is an art too and I consider myself pretty odd at times so I don't mean to insult anyone with this. If some of you are, I apologize.
So, what do you think? *bites fingernails*
