True Evil

CHAPTER 45

Alex let herself into Room 638 as quietly as she could. Inside, it was as dark as the hotel's blackout curtains could make it. She moved carefully across the floor of the suite, trying to remember the furniture placement. As she felt her way around a chair, she heard a quavering voice.

"Ah-Alex?"

"Chris?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"Th-think so."

As she felt her way along the bed, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she picked out Chris's eyes in the shadows. He was lying on his back with the covers pulled up to his neck. His forehead glistened with sweat.

"My God. What's going on?"

"Typical initial ruh…reaction to virus. Your marrow spits out a ton of IgG to d-deal with the invader…tries to kill the virus with fever. Later on…different immunoglobulins…right now…classic symptoms." He shook his head angrily. "Don't think I'm critical right now…unless…poisoned. That hasn't…b-been the pattern…right?"

"No. But you need to get checked out anyway."

"I'll get Tom to p-put me through the mill."

"I think you're past that, Chris. I think it's time to charter a jet and fly up to Sloan-Kettering."

"Want someone I trust. We'll send out the tests. Everybody does fuh…for complex stuff."

Alex wanted to call 911. But Chris wasn't panicking, and he was the physician, not her. But was he thinking clearly? He was undoubtedly depressed given what had happened to him, and maybe even delirious. For all she knew, he might even be in shock.

"Don't worry," he said, smiling weakly. "I'll t-tell you when to panic."

She forced a smile in return. "Do you mind if I use my computer?"

He shook his head.

"The light won't bother you?"

"No."

She bent and laid her hand on his burning shoulder, but he jerked away. Anger and frustration surged through her. Never had she felt such impotence. Will Kilmer had been unable to catch the government car they had seen parked at Dr. Tarver's clinic. John Kaiser had called, but to her dismay, he had not been researching Eldon Tarver at all, instead remaining focused on Andrew Rusk. Most of what Kaiser had learned duplicated information Alex had uncovered weeks ago. Kaiser had also told her that the FBI agents tailing Rusk believed Thora Shepard was still inside the lawyer's office. Kaiser thought this would give him some leverage in trying to persuade the local SAC that Alex's suspicions were grounded in fact. She'd asked Kaiser to change his focus to Dr. Tarver and informed him of the Noel D. Traver alias. After Kaiser had promised to do what he could, she signed off.

Alex went to the hotel desk, took her laptop out of hibernation, and logged into the hotel's IP network. As the Internet portal loaded, she wrote what she had memorized at Tarver's clinic onto a hotel notepad.

Noel D. Traver, DVM

Entergy bill late-09365974

The first thing Alex learned when she tried to log into the NCIC computer was that her access code was no longer valid. The third time she tried, she got a message saying that a report was being sent to the NCIC security department. The cold fingers of exclusion reached deep into her chest. Mark Dodson was being thorough in his efforts to end her career. She could no longer check the government's national database of criminal records, a crippling blow to any investigator. She would have to go to Google, like any civilian. Cursing quietly, she did so, and typed "Eldon Tarver" into the search line.

The name returned over a hundred hits. The first twenty were abstracts of medical articles or Web announcements of various research incentives at the University Medical Center. As she moved deeper into the result pages, she found a few stories about Dr. Tarver opening his free clinic downtown. Several black leaders had praised him to the skies, and three years ago, one black citizens' group had given him their annual citizenship award. Tarver was listed as one of the top fifty physicians in the state of Mississippi. In that article, Alex learned that Tarver was board-certified in pathology and had been since 1988.

"Chris?" she said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Eldon Tarver is board-certified in pathology. Does that make sense to you?"

"Uh…not really. I figured hematology or oncology."

"He's certified in hematology, too, but that's much more recent. His first specialty seems to have been pathology."

"Weird." The bedclothes rustled. "Can you g-get me a towel?"

She rushed to the bathroom and got one. "Where do you want it?"

"Muh…mouth," he said through chattering teeth. "To bite on."

"Jesus."

As Chris opened his mouth, she saw that his entire body was shivering. She stuffed in the towel, and he clamped down hard. After watching him shiver for half a minute, she went helplessly back to her computer. Before she could continue searching, her phone rang. It was Kaiser.

"What's up?" she answered.

"Noel D. Traver has no criminal record. But when I checked into his past, I found that the vet school he claimed to have graduated from has no record of his attending it. Mississippi granted him a license based on papers he gave them from the State of Tennessee."

"He didn't have to pass a test?"

"He's not actually practicing here. He owns and operates a dog-breeding facility in south Jackson. He sells dogs to medical schools for animal research."

Alex tugged at an errant strand of hair beside her chin. "This is strange, John. Especially if he's not Noel Traver at all, but Eldon Tarver."

"Hang on a sec." She heard voices but could not make out words. "Alex, I need to call you back."

She hung up and went back to her computer. It struck her then that she had not tried the simplest method of finding out whether Noel Traver was an alias or not. She typed the name into Google, then searched IMAGES. The computer hummed and clicked, and then a row of thumbnails began to load.

The first picture that popped up showed an African-American man wearing an army uniform, Captain Noel D. Traver. The second showed a high school kid with pimples. The third image showed a square-headed man with a gray beard and a full head of hair. The picture had been shot by a photographer for the Jackson Clarion-Ledger. The caption read BREEDER TREATS RESEARCH PUPS LIKE PETS. The picture was grainy, but Alex had no doubt: Noel D. Traver was not Eldon Tarver.

"What the hell?" she whispered.

Her cell phone rang again. She answered without looking at the screen. "John?"

"No, it's Will."

"Do you have something?"

"Maybe. Dr. Eldon Tarver owns a pathology lab here in Jackson."

"What?"

"Jackson Pathology Associates. They do the lab testing for a lot of local doctors. They're pretty successful, apparently. They do DNA analysis on-site."

"This guy is something."

"You want me to ride out there and check it out?"

"Yes. Poke around and see if anything seems out of whack."

Will chuckled. "I know the routine."

Alex's phone beeped, indicating an incoming call. Kaiser's cell. "Call me later, Will. Gotta go." She clicked over to Kaiser's phone. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry, Alex. I'm over at the Jackson field office, and things are kind of messy right now. The SAC found out about my little off duty surveillance club, and-"

"John, listen to me. I did an image search on Noel D. Traver, and I found a picture of him."

"Yeah?"

"It's not him. I mean, it's not Eldon Tarver."

"Really?"

"I don't get it. Two names that are perfect anagrams couldn't be coincidence-not if one name is found on the desk of the owner of the other."

"I agree. We're into something weird here. Changing subject, the SAC says that even if you're right, this is a homicide case and not under our jurisdiction."

"Webb Tyler sucks."

Kaiser laughed quietly. "Webb says I should turn over any evidence I have to the Jackson police department and go back to New Orleans. And you should find a new line of work."

"Screw him. I say we check out Noel Traver's dog-breeding facility."

"Tyler won't go for that. I already asked for a search warrant. No dice."

"Jesus, what's his problem?" snapped Alex.

"Mark Dodson is his problem. Tyler knows Dodson hates your guts, and he thinks Dodson is the new director's fair-haired boy. He also thinks Jack Moran is on his way out-early retirement. So, Tyler's not about to help me, since I'm a disciple of the wrong acolyte."

"I'm starting to think I'm well out of the Bureau."

"You know better than that. We'll get the warrant. We just have to keep piling up evidence."

"How, without any support? I don't guess Tyler will try for autopsies on the past victims, huh?"

Kaiser laughed out loud.

"Do you have any idea where Eldon Tarver is at this moment?"

"No. He lives alone, and he's not at home. He's not at the university or at his clinic, either. I'll let you know when we locate him."

Alex grunted in dissatisfaction. "So, exactly where is this dog-breeding facility?"

"Don't even think about it. Not without a warrant."

"I can find it on my own, you know."

"You're making it hard enough on me already. I've got to go. Call me if there's something I need to know."

Alex hung up and dialed Will Kilmer.

"Speak," Will said.

"Noel D. Traver owns a dog-breeding facility in south Jackson. I need you to find out where."

"I already know."

"I love you, old man. Give me the address."

Will read it out. "You planning on a visit?"

"I may ride by. I'm not going in. Kaiser would have my ass. I want you to do the same at the path lab, though."

"On my way. You stay in touch."

"I will."

Alex went to Chris's bed and knelt beside him. He was still shivering, but his eyes were closed now, and he was breathing regularly. She went back to the desk, packed her computer into its case, and left as quietly as she could.