The Chemistry of Death

Chapter 29

Vivian didn’t need a doctor to tell her that the woman was dead. Vivian touched Joe’s shoulder gently. “They have to move her, Mr. Tesla.”

He flinched as if she’d struck him, then looked up at her. He’d been crying, his nose was bleeding, and he held one hand against the woman’s cheek as if to wipe away her tears.

He moved his hand, and his palm gleamed in the headlights. It was slick with blood. Vivian stood on one side of him and looked over at Dirk. He was already on Tesla’s other side. Together, they lifted the man to his feet, careful to pull him away from the body so he wouldn’t disturb anything. This wasn’t a rescue site. It was a crime scene.

She’d called Dirk in the cab on the way to the station, and he’d met her there. They’d jogged through the tunnels together, but when the tinny voice over the speaker at 23rd Street Station had said that service was interrupted, she’d already known what they’d find.

“I was too late.” Tesla’s shoulders slumped, and he kept glancing back at the woman on the tracks. He stood awkwardly on one leg, as if he’d injured the other.

“We were too late,” she told him. “All of us.”

Tesla shouldn’t have to bear the blame for this alone, but he shook his head at her words. Whatever she said, he held himself solely responsible.

The train operator, a young black man in a blue uniform, turned to her. “Who are you?”

Dirk flashed his badge, but the man looked unimpressed. “Are you with the transit division?”

“I don’t need to be,” Dirk said.

“I saw someone,” Joe said. “A man standing next to the tracks.”

“Did you see anyone?” Dirk asked the train operator.

“I only saw Joe running down the tracks, and I put on the brakes and his dog knocked him off the tracks and then I saw her and I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to stop before—” The man gestured toward the woman’s lifeless body, but he didn’t look at her.

“What did the man look like?” Vivian asked.

Dirk shot her a look that made it clear he was supposed to be the one asking the questions.

“He was about my height.” Tesla closed his eyes. “He was wearing a fedora, and it shielded his face. I didn’t get a close look at him.”

Edison licked Joe’s hand. The dog’s coat was streaked with black. He looked as if he’d been rolling around on the tracks, but otherwise he seemed fine.

“Are you certain you saw someone?” Dirk asked.

“Of course,” Tesla snapped.

“Where was he standing?” Vivian got another look from Dirk, but she ignored it. If he didn’t ask the right questions, she had no choice but to pick up the slack.

Tesla limped over to a metal pillar, and Vivian followed. Behind the pillar a tunnel stretched off into blackness.

“His escape route,” Tesla said. “He’s way ahead of us.”

“Maybe this time,” Vivian said.

Tesla pointed his flashlight down at the ground. His light showed only rocks. They wouldn’t find tracks there.

Four people jogged down the tunnel from 23rd Street Station: two policemen and a man and a woman wearing uniforms and carrying an empty stretcher. Paramedics, but there wouldn’t be much for them to do.

Tesla shone his flashlight down the empty tunnel. Two more tunnels branched off, both on the right hand side. “He could be anywhere by now.”

If the man knew the tunnels, and he must, he’d be nearly impossible to track.

The paramedics had reached the woman’s body. The female paramedic shook her head and looked at her watch. Establishing the time of death, Vivian knew. Off by a few minutes, but close enough, unlike the rescue.

The paramedics worked together to pull the woman out from under the train. Vivian looked away. She’d seen too many broken bodies during the war to ever want to see another.

Tesla limped toward them, barely able to put weight on his leg.

“Stop!” he shouted.

Both paramedics froze and looked over at him.

“I beg your pardon, sir.” One of the transit cops peeled away from the paramedics and walked over toward Tesla. He had a pointy nose, pale close-set eyes, and gray hair trimmed into a buzz cut. He reminded Vivian of a hedgehog. “Who are you?”

“I’m Joe Tesla.” Tesla pointed at the body. “This is a crime scene. You can’t disturb it.”

“Looks to me like the woman was hit by a train, and there’s nothing more we can do for her,” Officer Hedgehog said. “We need to get the train moving again, provided it’s not damaged.”

Not the most sensitive thing to say, but he did have a point. The woman was dead and, even if it was a crime scene, they needed to get the train moving. She had seen a guy bleeding in the car who probably needed to get to a station, and there might be others injured as well. She’d once read that a suicide by train delays the train by half an hour on average. They were coming up on that soon.

A gray-haired woman pounded on the train window and pointed at the paramedics, then back inside the car. The train operator went over to see what was going on.

Tesla stood between the policeman and the body. “You can’t move her yet.”

“That’s not your jurisdiction, sir.” Officer Hedgehog was getting louder. He looked tired and crabby. Nobody was having a good night.

“One of the passengers is injured,” the train operator called. “We need to get him to a station.”

The policeman nodded at the paramedics. “Move her, but be careful.”

Tesla reached for the paramedics, but Vivian got to him first.

“You’re not going to win this battle, sir,” she told him quietly. “Your best course of action is to get photographs before she’s gone. At least then you’ll have something.”

Tesla scowled, but he pulled out his phone and started taking pictures. He lifted his injured foot off the ground completely and photographed while standing on one leg, like a stork. Edison stood close as if he were ready to catch Tesla should he fall.

Vivian looked around for the woman’s purse, but didn’t find it. She noticed an unusual tattoo on the woman’s wrist — a palm tree bent into a crescent shape. If the woman didn’t have any identification, hopefully the tattoo would give them something to go on.

Officer Hedgehog started toward Tesla, but Dirk stepped up next to him.

“I’m Detective Norbye,” he said. “We got a tip that this might be a homicide.”

“What kind of a tip?”

Dirk glanced at Vivian. “An anonymous one.”

The paramedics had already loaded the body onto the stretcher. They draped a blanket over her face and body and trotted back toward 23rd Street Station. Tesla looked between them and the tunnels.

The train conductor climbed under the train, probably checking the bottom for damage. Vivian knew from her recent research that a person hit by a train could do a lot of damage to the bottom of a car — ripping out lines as they were dragged along.

The transit policeman shook his head and called out to his compatriot, “Officer Spangler.”

The other officer hurried over.

“I’d like you to detain Mr. Tesla here, take him down to the station for questioning,” Officer Hedgehog said.

Edison nudged Tesla’s hand, which he’d clenched into a fist. He wouldn’t go outside without a fight.

“That won’t be necessary,” Dirk intervened. “I’ll take it from here.”

Officer Hedgehog looked like he wanted to argue about it, but Dirk outranked him. It probably helped that the officer was coming up on the end of his shift and probably didn’t want the hassle. After a bit of thought, he shrugged and stepped back.

“This way, Mr. Tesla.” Dirk pointed back down the tracks toward where the paramedics had taken the stretcher.

Tesla limped in the direction Dirk had pointed, with Vivian and Edison trailing behind. As soon as they were out of earshot, Tesla turned to Dirk.

“I want to take you to where I found the lipsticks. Did Vivian tell you about those?”

“She did.” Dirk had on his cop face, and she couldn’t read him. “Do you have proof that you saw a man back there before the accident?”

“Surveillance video from the station will show her leaving the platform with a man. He was holding onto her elbow. He didn’t just disappear.”

“When the train came, did he push her or touch her in any way?” Dirk asked.

Tesla hesitated. “Not that I saw. I wasn’t looking just before the train hit.”

“At that point the train operator would’ve seen something,” Dirk said.

“Maybe.” Tesla headed for an access tunnel.

“Is your foot OK?” Vivian asked.

“I’m fine.” Tesla kept limping along, looking anything but fine. He’d wiped the blood off his face and hand, but he was still filthy and looked pretty banged up — his foot or leg was wounded, he winced when he moved his shoulder, and he had a bruise on the side of his face.

“Where are we headed?” Vivian asked. His house was in the opposite direction.

“To the room where we found the lipsticks. It’s not far.”

Vivian fell in behind Tesla, and Dirk walked next to her. At least they were leaving the tunnel where the trains ran. She didn’t like flattening herself against the wall and hoping she wasn’t going to be smashed, especially after seeing the dead woman on the tracks. She trudged along silently, flashlights lighting the way.

Tesla could barely put weight on his foot, and his forehead shone with sweat. He must be in a lot of pain, but he didn’t slacken his pace. Edison threw him worried glances that Tesla didn’t seem to notice.

Eventually, he turned into an old steam tunnel. A few paces in, he stopped in front of a rusty door. Vivian shone her light on the lock. No evidence that it had been picked or forced. Dirk ran his light around the door’s metal edges. No sign of forced entry. Whoever came in and out of here probably had a key.

Tesla fiddled with his giant key ring. His face was paler than usual underneath the mask of grime, and his hands shook, probably with a combination of shock and exhaustion. He ought to get off that leg, too, but pointing that out wasn’t going to convince him. She was impressed that he was still standing.

He found the right key and inserted it. “Usually these old locks take patience to get open, but this one’s been well maintained.”

She’d have to take his word for that.

The lock clicked, and Tesla reached for the door handle.

“Careful,” she said. “Fingerprints.”

He pulled his sweatshirt cuff over his hand and turned the door handle. An unexpected smell billowed out. Bleach.

Her gun was in her hand before she realized it. A quick glance to the side showed that Dirk’s gun was up and ready, too. She pushed Tesla quickly away from the doorway, and raised a finger to her lips.

Dirk caught her eye, then went in, holding his flashlight over his gun. She quickly followed, breaking left as Dirk broke right. Their flashlights did a quick scan of the room.

“Clear!” she called out.

A light flickered on overhead. Tesla stood by the door next to a light switch.

The walls were a pale gray with the shadow of mold near the bottom. The linoleum floor was free of dirt and dust. Even the light fixture had been recently wiped down. Based on the smell, if there had been evidence in this room, it had been recently destroyed.

Tesla hobbled across to the far corner. Vivian followed. He pointed to a hole. The hole was almost perfectly square and about a foot deep. No sign of the dirt that had been removed. Either Tesla had found the wrong room, which she doubted, or the cleaner must have carted off the dirt. Thorough.

“He was here,” Tesla said. “He cleaned up.”

“Are you sure this is the right room?” Dirk asked. Better him than Vivian.

Tesla gave him a look that could freeze water. “I’m sure.”

“I’ll bring a forensics team down,” Dirk said. “I don’t think we’ll find much.”

“It didn’t look like this a few days ago.” Tesla sounded angry, and she couldn’t blame him. If they’d come here sooner, they might’ve been able to find something that could’ve saved the woman’s life. “Not one bit.”

“I believe that.” Dirk looked around the room again. “I can’t see why the MTA would do a cleanup like this, but I’ll double check. My guess is that somebody else came down here and removed something, and he must have had a reason to work this hard.”

“I have a name you might want to check out,” Vivian said.

With twin expressions of surprise, Dirk and Tesla turned to her.

“His name is Salvatore Blue. He works for MTA, and he was on cleanup detail for a couple of the incidents.”

“They all happened on the same line,” Dirk said. “Probably only so many cleaning crew per line.”

“His is the only name that keeps coming up,” she said. “So the other cleaners are pretty good at dodging nasty work.”

“I’ll look into him,” Dirk said. “Blue like the color.”

Tesla didn’t say anything, but she could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He’d look into Blue, too.

Vivian took out her phone and started filming, starting with the door, the lock, and the ground outside. After that, she came into the room and worked in a neat grid pattern. Once Dirk brought people down here, she and Tesla would be denied access to this site. Not that there was much to see anymore.

Dirk didn’t get in her way. “Please send me that surveillance video you mentioned earlier, Mr. Tesla. And you, Viv, email me any other notes you’ve made. We’ll get on this.”

“Good,” she said. “Because he always kills in pairs.”