The Caller

SEVENTEEN

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Rufo. He stood with his hands linked at the back of his head, staring out David Burig’s window. His back was to the battered body by the door. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘The guy was here, we were right outside,’ said Joe. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘How were you to know?’ said Rufo. ‘How were you to know?’

‘But-’

‘But nothing,’ said Rufo. ‘We’ve just got to catch him. We just got to do everything we can to make sure Burig is the last.’

‘It’s Ethan Lowry all over again… without the phone,’ said Joe.

‘Mary Burig hadn’t made a call either,’ said Danny. ‘Cullen just said.’

‘Last call he got was from the lobby,’ said Martinez, walking over. ‘He asked the doorman to run to the deli for something. Burig and him got on well. Anyway, doorman figured he was safe with a “detective” in the building.’

‘That’ll be the last favor he’ll do anyone,’ said Joe.

‘What do you say Henry is finally getting laid these days?’ said Martinez, pointing to a small, focused crime scene tech dusting the kitchen doorknob.

‘I have no idea who Henry is or what his sex life is like,’ said Joe, his voice tight.

‘I mean as a direct result of CSI?’ said Martinez. ‘Chicks dig him, they think his job is so glamorous.’

‘Yeah,’ said Joe. ‘Meanwhile, he’s here like a retard saying, “why do you need that printed?” “Why do you want a photo of that?” Because the killer might have touched it, you fucking douche-bag.’

‘Yeah, I’d love to have one of those TV CSI techs at all my scenes,’ said Bobby.

‘Yeah and they’d go interview all the witnesses too,’ said Danny.

‘And they’d work through all the evidence in a nice shiny lab,’ said Martinez.

‘And they’d solve the case,’ said Danny. ‘And they would be hot.’

‘Come on,’ said Joe. ‘It’s three o’clock. We’ve done all we can here.’

His cell phone rang.

‘Detective Lucchesi?

‘Yeah.’

‘Detective Scott Dolan here from Philadelphia PD. I know it’s late – I was going to leave a message. We received your request for information on any dentists that had been in trouble, etc. Now, it’s not dentists as such, but does the name Trahorne Refining mean anything to you?’

‘No.’

‘They’re a company that have a lot of dealings with dental laboratories – not directly with dentists. I don’t know too much about it myself. It’s just that we got a visit from a Curtis Walston a few weeks back, a local kid who had been fired by Trahorne after two weeks on the job. He was fairly unhappy about the whole situation. Anyway, he had no evidence, because he said it was all burned, but he claims he found several bloodstained items of clothing that had been sent into the company for incineration.’

‘I don’t get it.’

‘It’s kind of complicated. Trahorne’s business is about burning metals off of clothes and stuff that dental technicians use when they’re filing down the metal parts of crowns or false teeth. Anyway, we followed up with the owner, Bob Trahorne, who basically laughed in our faces. We had no evidence and what he was saying to us was “You’re taking the word of some punk over me?” There was nothing more we could do. But I just thought when I saw your report it might be of interest. Curtis Walston is your classic disgruntled employee, but he came to us, so I don’t know. You might want to come up here and talk to him yourself.’

David Burig’s autopsy was six hours that could have been Ethan Lowry’s autopsy until Walter Dreux showed up. Walter was a forensic odontologist, part of the OCME’s Dental Identification Unit, called in for any cases that involved head injuries, decomposition, fires, bitemarks or unidentified victims.

‘Walter,’ said Danny. ‘Dentist to the dead.’

‘It’s on my business cards now,’ said Walter.

‘How you doing?’ said Joe.

‘Good. You guys?’

Joe shrugged. ‘So…’

‘Don’t come near me,’ said Walter, walking over to the body. He flashed a smile. ‘OK?’

‘You need to get over that,’ said Danny.

Walter had been burned on a major case because a homicide detective took notes as he was working and the attorney wouldn’t allow Walter to amend what he had said when he was finished. Walter’s day in court was not a happy one.

‘In a half hour, I’ll come out to you,’ he said. ‘Me and my lovely assistant here will do our thing, I will have a quiet moment and then I will give up the goods.’

He got to work and forty minutes later, came out to Danny, Joe and Dr Hyland.

‘I found a gift for you. Between the upper right second bicuspid and the first molar tooth.’

‘Spinach,’ said Danny.

‘More telling: a silicone-based dental impression material.’

‘What?’ said Joe.

‘Someone took an impression of this victim’s teeth,’ said Walter.

‘What? Just this victim?’ said Danny.

‘No, all the others too, I just didn’t want to bother you with it. I was waiting ‘til you were running out of leads or more bodies piled up – for dramatic effect.’

‘Relax,’ said Danny.

‘I’ll continue,’ said Walter. ‘Had the victim been to the dentist that day? That’d do it.’

‘No to the dentist theory – and we checked that out with all the victims.’

‘I can tell you the brand of material, but it won’t mean a lot because they’re so widely used. And no-one’s going to be dumb enough to use the latest one on the market, because you could narrow that down better. What I’m giving you here is the fact that the guy took an impression of this victim’s teeth.’

‘Why would anyone want to take an impression of his victims’ teeth?’ said Danny.

‘Why would anyone want to hammer the crap out of someone’s face?’ said Joe.

‘Because he can,’ said Danny.

‘You think the perp could have been a dentist?’ said Joe.

‘Nah,’ said Walter. ‘I’d say a cop.’

‘Ha-ha,’ said Danny.

‘It’s easy to do impressions of teeth,’ said Walter. ‘You don’t have to be a dentist. But I have to say, it makes sense.’

‘And you dentists are known for getting stressed out all the time,’ said Joe.

‘Yeah,’ said Walter, ‘going dental.’

‘Who uses impressions once they’re done?’ said Joe. ‘Like in the dentist’s office. Where does that go to after?’

‘A dental laboratory,’ said Walter.

Joe and Danny exchanged glances. ‘Holy shit,’ said Danny.

‘They make all the crowns, veneers, bridges,’ said Walter. ‘Some dentists use the same lab all the time. Others spread the love around. It’s whatever they want to do.’

‘Is there like a society for these guys?’ said Joe.

‘There’s formal training, college courses, you name it. But the industry is not regulated. You could set up in the morning.’

Curtis Walston was a gangsta rapper trapped in a skinny white boy’s body. He slouched diagonally across a bald brown sofa, his arm up over the back. Everything in his world was oversized – the baseball cap and shirt, the jeans, the watch, the bright white sneakers, the widescreen TV, even the eyes in his pale, narrow face. Joe and Danny stood by the mantelpiece opposite him. Curtis spoke low, with his head bowed.

‘Screw Bob Trahorne, man. I took a job with him ’cos he runs a good lab, they give good returns. The only difference is where I worked before, we checked through the packages, drums, whatever that was sent in. We separated things out: the grindings, the solids, the sweeps. I get my ass fired ’cos I’s doing what I know.’

‘Curtis,’ said Danny. ‘That’s all a little technical for my friend, Detective Lucchesi here. He’s going to need you to explain what happens at Trahorne Refining, what goes down, how it all works.’

Curtis narrowed his eyes at Joe. ‘That’s cool.’ He shrugged. ‘What it is, is Trahorne supplies metal to dental technicians: gold, platinum, palladium, silver. Dental technicians work for dentists, making implants, bridges, crowns whatever. Dentists take an impression of the teeth, they send that to the dental technician who makes a model, so’s he can make the false teeth or veneers or whatever the perfect size.’

‘Tell us about the packages you get sent,’ said Joe.

‘When the dental technician is making the false teeth, the base is made of metal, then the porcelain is put on top. The metal’s been moulded in an oven, but when it comes out, it ain’t perfect, there’s bits of crud sticking out, some filing down and smoothing to do. So they use this grinding and buffing wheel that spins real fast. Little bits of metal can get everywhere. Like what I said: “grindings”, which are sort of like shavings. “Solids” are little chunks of metal, pieces of foil. “Sweeps” is what the technician might wipe down off his desk or even shake out of his hair onto a piece of paper. The stuff gets everywhere. And this gold and shit costs money. So what the technician will do is get a big envelope and throw it all in: the piece of paper, the lab coat, a cloth he had over his lap, a scrap of carpet that might have been under his bench, a sweater he was wearing, whatever. Or maybe, he’ll throw it all in to one of them fifty-five gallon paper drums.

‘And send it to a place like Trahorne’s,’ said Joe.

‘Yeah. Instead of throwing away the leftover metal, he get paid for it.’

‘’Cos what Trahorne does is refining and assaying.’

Danny frowned as he listened. Curtis looked up at him.

‘Assaying means they work out how much metal is in the package and refining is about taking it all out, separating one metal from another or whatever. This way, there’s no waste. I get the package, take out the paperwork, then I put the package onto a tray, it goes in the incinerator at 2400 degrees and everything gets nuked. All you got’s left is the metal. We weigh it, then send the lab a cheque for the amount or we pay them in coins, metal – whatever they want.’

‘This is a business that is run on trust,’ said Danny.

‘I guess so,’ said Curtis. ‘I mean, some dental techs weigh their package before they send it in on, like, bathroom scales, which isn’t very accurate. So there’s wiggle room, if you want to go that way.’

‘Let me get this straight,’ said Joe. ‘In Trahorne Refining, when a package came in, it went directly into the incinerator without being checked through.’

‘That’s correct.’

‘But in the lab you worked in before, you separated out these grindings, solids and sweeps.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Talk me through what happened with the package you opened.’

‘OK. The package came in from Dean Valtry’s lab in New York City. It’s a fifty-five gallon paper drum, about thirty inches high, eighteen inches across. I weighed it. Then I opened it and put everything in a big steel tray, which goes into the incinerator. I was pulling out a lot of black clothes and I found solids like I told you about, sweepings, some sheets of paper that the sweepings had been on, a piece of carpet. I’m shaking out the clothes and I see stains.’ He leaned forward. ‘And I know they’re bloodstains.’

‘So what did you do?’ said Danny.

‘I left everything and went up to Mr Trahorne’s office with one of the items, a black top with a zip in it to show him. First of all I had to wait around for him – he was in a meeting. So I sat outside his office reading a magazine.’ He shrugged. ‘Like, a half hour later, his secretary comes out to get me. She’s all, like, don’t be bothering the boss for long. So I go in and Mr Trahorne asks me what I’ve been doing for the past half hour.’ Curtis rolled his eyes. ‘So I ignore that, but I tell him what happened with the package. And he listens to me and explains about how dental technicians can get blood on things if they cut their finger on the scalpels or whatever. And I’m like, I’m not a retard: this is a lot of blood, here. And I spread the thing out on his desk, which totally pisses him off. Then he grabs the top from me, walks me back down to “my post” he calls it and throws everything in the tray, pushes it into the incinerator. Looked me right in the eye afterwards and said, “I’m not paying you to sort. Or to take time out to bother me.” I’m, like, “some dude could have got hurt.” Trahorne’s looking at me like I’m such a dirt-bag he can’t believe I’d give a shit. That pissed me off. Then, I come in a week later and he’s letting me go.’ Curtis shrugged. ‘I’ll get other work, I know that. But, you know, I’s just trying to do the right thing.’

‘Mr Trahorne says you stole from the lab.’

Curtis looked up. ‘OK, yeah I did. A little platinum foil. One time.’

‘And he says you hold a grudge towards him because he fired you.’

‘Yeah. I do.’

Danny smiled.

‘I do hold a grudge,’ said Curtis. ‘Doesn’t make me a liar.’

‘OK,’ said Joe.

‘Also,’ said Curtis, ‘I ain’t got no grudge against that Valtry lab. I don’t know them. Why would I say this shit and imprecate them?’

‘We’re not accusing you of implicating them.’

He raised his head slowly and stared Danny down. ‘I said “imprecate”. It’s a word. Look it up.’

Danny let out a breath.

Joe arrived home at 8.30 and stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, rubbing his stubbled jaw. He slipped a blade from his razor and flicked it towards the bin. It hit the wall first, then bounced onto the floor, taking some garbage with it. He bent down to pick it up and saw a scrunched-up drugstore receipt. He glanced at the two items on it: Tara’s SplashBronze tanner and something that sent his stomach into spasm: a pregnancy test. He ran his hands through the bin, looking for the box or the test. He couldn’t find them. He was about to give up, when he spotted the navy plastic cap of the test and pulled it free. Tests had changed. They now had a digital read-out. No checking symbols against a leaflet. No guessing. This one just told it like it was: PREGNANT. Shaun’s whole life flashed before his eyes. Joe checked the date on the receipt. It was a week old. Joe put down his razor and went to Shaun’s room.

‘Son, I’m going to cut to the chase here,’ he said, sitting on Shaun’s bed. Shaun swung his chair around from his desk.

‘Yeah?’

‘I hope you’re… you know… with Tara… uh, using protection.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Shaun, looking away.

‘I’m serious. You need to be careful.’

‘This is so embarrassing. What makes you think I’m not?’

‘Well, nothing. I just-’

‘Did we not have this talk, like, a few years ago?’

‘With everything that’s happened… I want to make sure you’re staying… sensible.’

‘I am… sensible.’

‘Good. Because if you’re having sex…’ He trailed off. They sat in silence.

‘I’m not,’ said Shaun eventually.

‘What?’ said Joe.

‘I’m not. We’re not, OK? I’m having a hard time… with… being close to someone.’

‘Oh,’ said Joe. ‘I thought-’ He stared at the floor.

Shaun stared at the floor. ‘The first time with Katie, I never. I mean, you know, it didn’t really happen. And that’s my last memory of

… sex. If I come close to that, I freeze. Like obviously, I can get… you know… but I just don’t want to go any further…’

‘Right. Shit. OK. Do you think… I mean… are you really ready, Shaun?’

Shaun frowned.

‘You’re young, you’re only just eighteen,’ said Joe, ‘and if things had been different in your life, I’d be giving you very different advice. I mean, you can’t always separate sex from emotion, whatever you might think. You have things to work through and I’m not so sure rushing into something with another girl is the right way to go.’

‘People are gonna think I’m some kind of weirdo.’ Shaun shook his head. ‘I can’t get Katie out of my mind. Anything that makes me go back to how I felt that night, I just can’t do it. I have this same dream where I meet her in the street or in a coffee shop or whatever, she’s always with some guy and there’s this feeling of hate coming from her. I’m trying to be friendly. Then everything goes all white and when I try to reach out to her, she slips back into this fog and I don’t get to touch her. And her face is always blank. She doesn’t smile at me. All I can think of is she died probably hating me.’

‘That’s not true. She loved you. You know that. You had an argument that night that was because of how much she loved you. If she was still here, you would have made up the next day. So she thought it was your first time too – you wouldn’t hate someone for that. You might feel dumb, but that’s all.’

‘She wouldn’t have walked home alone…’

‘Don’t,’ said Joe. ‘You’ll go over and over it until you go crazy. Everything that happened was out of your control. That’s one of the hardest parts about life – you don’t know what’s around the corner.’

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Joe wondered what game Tara was playing.

‘Shaun, are you and Tara exclusive? I mean, could Tara be seeing other guys?’

‘Jesus Dad, bad enough you’re on my case, I’m not going to start getting into Tara’s sex life with you… or lack of it, thanks for your sensitivity.’

‘Just, what’s your relationship with her exactly?’

‘OK, now you’re just sounding freaky.’

Anna knocked on the door and stepped in. ‘What do you think?’ she said. ‘New dress.’

‘Cool,’ said Shaun.

‘You’re going out tomorrow night,’ said Anna, ‘so I’m inviting your father to a special home cooked meal.’

‘You look beautiful,’ said Joe. ‘Very… healthy.’ She caught him staring at her chest.

‘Thank you,’ said Anna. ‘And thank Tara,’ she said to Shaun. ‘I bought some of her SplashBronze.’