The Poet

29

In the morning Rachel called me before I was out of bed. I squinted at the clock and saw it was seven-thirty. I didn't ask why she hadn't answered either the phone or her door the night before. I'd already spent a good part of the night brooding about it and decided she had probably been taking a shower during the times I phoned or knocked.

"You up?"

"I am now."

"Good. Call your sister-in-law."

"Right. I will."

"You want to get coffee? How long till you're ready?"

"I have to make the call and get a shower. An hour?"

"You're on your own then, Jack."

"Okay, a half hour. You've already been up?"

"No."

"Well, don't you have to take a shower?"

"I don't take an hour to get ready, even on a day off."

"Okay, okay. A half hour."

As I got up I found the torn condom package on the floor. I picked it up and committed the brand to memory since it obviously was the one she preferred, then threw it in the bathroom trash can.

I was almost hoping Riley wouldn't be home because I didn't know exactly how to ask her to let people dig up her husband's body or how she would react. But I knew that at five till nine on a Sunday morning there wasn't much chance that she would be anywhere else. As far as I knew, her only appearances in church in recent years were at Sean's funeral and her wedding before that.

She answered on the second ring with a voice that seemed more cheerful than I'd heard in the last month. At first I wasn't even sure it was her.

"Riles?"

"Jack, where are you? I was worried."

"I'm in Phoenix. Why are you worried?"

"Well, you know, I didn't know what was going on."

"I'm sorry I didn't call. Everything's okay. I'm with the FBI. I can't say a lot but they are looking into Sean's death. His and some others."

I looked out the window and saw the lines of a mountain on the horizon. The tourist pamphlet that came with the room said it was called Camelback Mountain and the name fit. I didn't know if I was saying too much. But it wasn't like Riley was going to go sell the story to the National Enquirer.

"Uh, something's come up on the case. They think there might've been some evidence missed on Sean… Uh, they want to… Riley, they need to take him out of the ground to look at him again."

There was no response. I waited a long time.

"Riley?"

"Jack, why?"

"It will help the case. The investigation."

"But what do they want? Are… are they going to cut him open again?"

She said the last part in a desperate whisper and I realized how I had bungled the job of telling her.

"Oh, no. Not at all. Uh, all they want to do is look at his hands. Nothing else. You have to give them permission. Otherwise, they have to go through courts and it's a long mess."

"His hands? Why Jack?"

"It's a long story. I'm not really supposed to tell you but I'll tell you this. They think the guy… whoever did this, he tried to hypnotize Sean. They want to look at his hands to see if there are pinpricks, you know. That's the test somebody might have given to see if Sean was really hypnotized."

There was more silence.

"There was something else," I said. "Did Sean have a cough or a cold? You know, back on the day it happened."

"Yes," she said after a moment's hesitation. "He was sick and I told him not to go in that day. I was sick, too, and I told him to stay home with me. Jack, you know what?"

"What?"

"I must've felt sick because I was pregnant. I found out Wednesday."

It caught me off guard. I hesitated.

"Oh, Riley," I finally said. "That's wonderful. Did you tell the folks?"

"Yes, they know. They're very happy. It's like a miracle child because I didn't know and we hadn't really been trying."

"It's great news."

I didn't know how to get back to the other conversation we had been having. Finally, I just bull-rushed her to the point.

"I've got to go now, Riles. What can I tell them?"

Rachel was in the lobby when I stepped out of the elevator. She had both her computer bag and her overnighter with her.

"You checked out?" I asked, not understanding.

"FBI rules of the road. Never leave anything in the room because you never know when you'll have to fly. We get a break today, I'm not going to have time to come back and pack my things."

I nodded. It was too late for me to pack and I had almost nothing to pack anyway.

"Did you call her?"

"Yes. She said fine. She said do it. For what it's worth, she also said he was sick. The cough syrup was his. And I figured out why Sean was killed in his car and not at home like the others."

"Why?"

"His wife, Riley, was home because she was sick, too. My brother would have done everything he could not to take this guy back to his house. Not with her there."

I nodded sadly at my brother's last and maybe bravest act.

"I think you're right, Jack. It fits. But listen, there's been a development. Bob's just got word and called me from the FO. He's delaying the meeting with the locals. We got a fax from the Poet."

The mood of the conference room was decidedly somber. Only the agents from Quantico were taking part. Backus, Thompson, Thorson and an agent named Carter who had been at the first status meeting I had attended back at Quantico. I noticed Rachel and Thorson exchange contemptuous looks as we entered. I focused on Backus. He seemed lost in thought. He had his portable computer open on the table in front of him but he wasn't looking at it. He looked fresh in a different gray suit. A bemused smile spread on his face and he looked at me.

"Jack, you get to see firsthand now why we were concerned about containing this story. A five-second video bite was all it took and the offender knows we are on his trail."

I nodded.

"I don't think he should be here for this," Thorson said.

"A deal is a deal, Gordon. He certainly had nothing to do with the CNN story."

"Still, I think it's not-"

"Can it, Gordon," Rachel said. "It doesn't matter what you think."

"Okay, let's halt hostilities and concentrate on the problem," Backus said. "I've got copies here."

He opened a file and passed copies of the fax across the table. I got my own copy. There was silence in the room as we all read.

Dear Bob Backus, FBI agent, And hello to you, sir. I caught the news and saw you in Phoenix, you sly one. No comments to dim bulb reporters do not fool me. I know your face, Bob. You are coming for me and I anxiously await your arrival. But be careful, my friend Bob! Not so close! After all, look what happened to poor Orsulak and those others. They put Orsulak in the ground today, the end of a good job. But an FBI man of such stature as yours, now that would be a noble hunt. Heh, heh.

Not to worry, Bob. You are safe. My next intended has been anointed. I've made my choice and I have him in sight, even as you read these words.

Are you huddled with your masses now? Wondering what makes your opponent tick? It's a terrible mystery, isn't it? Bothers like a pinprick in the palm I suspect. I offer you one clue. (What are friends for?) I am the rotten apple of my Best Pal's eye, who am I? When you know the answer, Bob, say it over and over again. Then you'll get it. You'll know. You're a pro and I'm sure you are up to the challenge. I'm counting on you, Bob!

I dwell alone in the world of moan, Bob, and my work has just begun. And Bob? May the best man win.

I cannot sign my correspondence for you haven't given me my name yet. What is it, Bob? I'll watch for you on television and I'll wait to hear my name. Until then I will close with this: Short and Tall-I killed them all!

Drive carefully!

I read the fax twice and each time it gave me the same chill. I knew what they meant now. About the moon. The letter was the voice of a man from someplace else. Not here. Not this planet.

"Everybody in agreement on authenticity?" Backus asked.

"There are several authenticators," Rachel said. "The pinprick. The quote from Poe. What about the reference to Best Pal? Has Florida been informed about this?"

"Yes. The Best Pals angle obviously becomes the priority. They're dropping everything else for the time being."

"What does Brass say?"

"That it obviously confirms the linkage theory. There are references here to both strings, the detectives and the others. She and Brad were right. One offender. She's now going with the Florida killings as our model. Everything that follows is just a repetition of the initial crime sequence. He's repeating the ritual."

"In other words, find out why he killed Beltran and you know why he killed the rest."

"Right. Brass and Brad have been talking to Florida all morning. Hopefully, it won't take long to get some answers and put the model together."

Everybody seemed to brood over this for a few moments.

"We're going to stay here?" Rachel asked.

"I think it's best," Backus said. "The answers may be in Florida but it's static. History. We're still closest to him here."

"It says he's already chosen his next intended," I said. "Is that the next cop, you think?"

"That's exactly what I think," Backus said somberly. "So we've run out of time. As we sit here talking, he is watching another man, another cop, somewhere. And if we don't find out where that is, we're going to have another dead man on our hands."

He pounded a fist on the table.

"We've got to make a break, people, we've got to do something. We have to find that man before it is too late!"

He said it with force and conviction. He was marshaling his troops. He had asked for their best work before. He needed it to be even better now.

"Bob," Rachel said. "The fax makes reference to Orsulak's funeral being today. When did this come in and where did it go to?"

"Gordon has that."

Thorson cleared his throat and spoke without looking at Rachel or me.

"It came to a fax line at Quantico that is assigned to academy business," Thorson said. "Needless to say, its sender used a masking option on the sender ID. Nothing there. It arrived at three thirty-eight this morning. That's eastern time. I had Hazelton chase down the sequence. A fax call came into the general Quantico number, the operator recognized the fax beep and switched the call to the wire room. She couldn't tell where or who it was going to because all she had was the beep. So she took a guess and switched it to an academy fax and it was there in the basket until this morning when it was finally noticed and brought down to the center."

"We're lucky it's not still sitting there unnoticed," Backus added.

"Right," Thorson said. "Anyway, Hazelton took the original to the lab and came up with something. Their take is that it wasn't a fax-to-fax transmission. It came from an inboard fax."

"A computer," I said.

"With a fax modem. And since we know this guy is a traveler, it's not likely that he's lugging around an Apple Mac on his back. The speculation is he has a laptop computer with a fax modem. Most likely a cellular modem. It would give him the most freedom."

Everyone digested this for a few moments. I wasn't sure of its significance. It seemed to me that a lot of the information they had amassed during the investigation was useless until they had a suspect in custody. Then it might be used to build a case against him for trial. But until then, it wasn't much help in catching him.

"All right, so he has state-of-the-art computer equipment," Rachel finally said. "What do we have in place for the next fax?"

"We'll be standing by to trace any fax calls to the general line," Thorson said. "At best we'll get the originating cell. No closer."

"What's that mean?" I asked.

Thorson seemed reluctant to answer any question from me. Rachel stepped in when he didn't.

"It means if he's on a cellular we can't make a trace to a direct number or location. We'll get the city and the originating cell where the call came from. Probably at best that will knock it down to a search area of more than a hundred thousand people."

"But we'll have the city," Backus said. "We'll be able to go to the locals and look for cases that may serve as bait cases. It would only have to be a homicide committed in the last week. Just since Orsulak."

He looked at Thorson.

"Gordon, I want another flag sent to all FOs. Tell them to check with the locals on any recent homicides. We're talking about all the whodunits in general, but child cases in particular and anything with unusual MO or violent assault on the corpse, before or after death. Get that out by this afternoon. Request acknowledgment from SACs by eighteen hundred tomorrow. I don't want it to fall through the cracks."

"Got it."

"Also, FYI, Brass suggested one other thing as well," Backus added. "And that's that the bit in the fax about his next target being selected could be a bluff. A design to make us react and scramble while the offender is actually slipping away, going under. Remember, it was the chief fear that we had about publicity."

"I disagree," Rachel said. "Reading this, I see a braggart, someone who thinks he's better than us and wants to toy with us. I take him at his word. There's a cop out there somewhere and he's in the sights."

"I tend to think that way, too," Backus said. "I think Brass does as well but felt the need to put the other possibility on the table."

"So, then, what's our strategy now?"

"Simple," Backus said. "We find this guy and arrest him before he hurts anybody else."

Backus smiled and everyone but Thorson followed suit.

"Actually, I think that until something else breaks, we stay put and redouble our efforts here. And let's keep this fax to ourselves. Meantime, we're ready to move if something develops. We hope for another fax from our guy and Brass is working up another alert for the field offices. I'll tell her to stress its importance to the FOs in the Pacific time zone."

He scanned the room and nodded. He was finished.

"Need I say it again?" he asked. "Your best work. We really need it now more than ever."