13 Degrees of Separation (57 page)

“Yeah,”
Magnum sighed. “There is that.”

“Let me
nose around a bit. Anyone report any strange smells in the city lately?” Nohar
asked. “Insect sign where there shouldn't be any?” he asked.

A woman
standing nearby turned. “You mean like behind the garden? I told them those
bugs weren't supposed to be there! And the flies! Just dreadful!” she said
waving a hand as if to shoo them away.

“Flies
huh?” Nohar asked, looking meaningfully to the two cops.

“Ah
shit,” Draskin sighed. “Another long damn day,” he muttered. He turned to the
woman. “Garden lady?”

“The
community garden,” she said as if they should have known. She pointed a
withered hand down the street. “I just came from there. I take my usual morning
walk there. But the flies are just horrid this morning!” she said.

“Crap,”
Draskin sighed, moving in the indicated direction. “Come on you three, best get
this over with,” he said.

Nohar
ducked under the arched rose trellis as they entered the garden. He could smell
the earthy smells, sweet aroma of plants. People milled about, some kids were
at play. But he oriented immediately on the cloud of flies near the back. They
were over a patch of freshly mulched ground.

“Yeah,
DB buried you think?” O'shee asked, as they moved to the patch.

“No, if
we could only be so lucky,” Nohar said, looking over to a wood chipper nearby.

Draskin
turned to look where the cat was looking and swore softly. “O'shee, I think you
better call this in. We're going to need back up,” he muttered.

“You
sure?” O'shee asked, eyes tracing the blocky lines of the machine. Its' exit chute
was pointed right at the patch. “What makes you so sure?”

“Cause
I'm a pessimist all right?” Draskin demanded. “And tell them stat.”

Nohar
grunted as they slowed to a stop near the machine. He could smell blood.
“Blood. Fresh. Coagulated though, post postmortem,” he reported. “Tissue and
other things too. Urine, the whole works,” he said, covering his nose and
pointing to the front mouth of the machine and then the back.

“Yeah,
I can smell the decomp from here too,” Draskin sighed, pulling blue latex gloves
out. “O'shee, what are you doing standing there?” he demanded.

Nohar
turned. “Find out when this machine was used last. Not just when it was
officially used, ask when people last heard it running. Was it running at
night? Early morning?”

“This
morning? While we were eating?” O'shee whispered, looking greenish like Magnum.
“Crap,” he said, turning. He took off at a trot.

People
were milling about looking at them. Draskin peeked into the mouth of the
chipper and then went to the plot. He waved the flies away long enough for him
to crouch. He took a pen out and used it to poke and sweep aside the dirt until
he found a tooth. Then he swore again. He brushed another area and found an
eye, a cat eye. He swore again.

“It's
fresh,” Nohar said, finding tufts of ocelot hair around the intake. He put the
knuckles of his left hand against the engine that powered the machine. “Still
warm,” he said, looking at Draskin.

“Yeah,
I was afraid of that,” the cop said.

“Think
the killer upped the ante? Or just got full? Either way he used this to hide
the bodies in plain sight. Smart. I'm wondering how many though,” Magnum said,
handkerchief over his mouth and face.

Nohar
looked at him and flicked his ear in agreement. He turned seeing other people
looking their way, some were backing off, some pointing. He sighed. “That's for
forensics to determine. I don't envy their job.”

“I'm
having enough trouble with my own,” Draskin growled.

...*...*...*...*...

As the
cops and CSI processed the scene Nohar took a seat on a bench under a tree. It
was close enough to keep an eye on things, but far enough away to not crowd
them. The cops were getting enough of that as people started to show up to
watch and talk. Since he wanted to see what was going on, he kept an eye on the
crowd. Of course there was no hint of a Neocat, no that would be too easy.
Apparently the bastard had learned not to get so close.

Other
Neo's however were there, a janitor cougar, a couple of dogs, and a handful of
otter pickpockets working the crowd. Some were pretending to entertain, really
serving as a distraction while their partners went to town. Hopefully Draskin
or some cop would crack down on it soon. Nohar however didn't want to say
anything, he may need to talk to the little klepto's later and didn't want to alienate
them.

Nohar
checked the shadowy areas, but didn't see anything there either. No, if the
bastard was watching, it was from a distance. It probably burned his ass to not
be able to be up close to gloat, to see what the cops found and see what he'd
done wrong.

Since
he was here anyway he pulled the laptop out and started it up once more. He
flipped through the bullet points the program had pulled together and then
opened a psychological file.

Nohar
built a profile, he hypothesized that the killer was a Neo lion or other cat, a
powerful one, smart. A pathological Neo, possibly the son of a prostitute from
that connection. Or he had been spurned by one, maybe by his masculinity. From
the report the kills had started in Morey town and spiraled in escalation from
there. He was a careful one, and learned from each of the earlier attacks. He
was counting on the human's indifference and the Neo's prejudices to allow him
to hunt. He'd been careful, but he'd escalated when no one took notice. Now he
was setting aside his intelligence, giving in to his blood lust. He had to be
stopped, and soon.

When he
was done he used a witness program to sketch the predator. He had to use a lot
of guesses, he didn't know the physical size of the killer, but he had a
general idea based on his sonotype. He watched the program do a series of
renders and then blended them together. When he was finished he had a 3D avatar
of the serial killer. He even used his own footage of the mane to color it in.
he spun it, changing the color of the fur a few times. It wasn't much, but it
was all they had for now.

...*...*...*...*...

He kept
casually checking the crowd all day, but the killer was adapting, staying away.
But not too far away he thought as the shadows from the buildings covered the people
and grounds. He frowned, and then put his laptop away. Casually he stretched,
trying to get all the kinks out, then he laid is arms on the back of the bench
and closed his good eye, pretending to doze.

“Comfy?”
Draskin muttered in passing.

“No,
not really,” the tiger muttered back.

“What
are you doing then?” Draskin asked. “Checking the crowds?” he asked. Nohar
noted a shadow on top of a building. He grunted and then angled his head to
catch the light evening breeze.

“Something
like that,” he murmured. He saw a flash of motion on the rooftop but kept his
head turning. Gotcha, he thought. That was a mistake. Ducking gave the cat
away. He turned his head back, eye still closed as if he was drowsy from the
sun. The wind was all wrong, he was upwind of the predator, he couldn't get the
scent.

“Draskin,”
he murmured.

“Eh?”
Draskin asked, nearby. Nohar snapped his fingers. The detective looked up in
annoyance and came over. “I'm not your bell boy, so don't even bother asking
for a damn drink,” the detective growled.

“Keep
talking. Then go get a perimeter around the 5 story building in front and on my
left. The one with the granite trim,” Nohar said.

Draskin
suddenly knelt, but hopefully he didn't look. “See something? We've got
spotters in the crowd.”

“But not
on the rooftops right?” Nohar asked.

“No,”
Draskin said.

“That's
where he is. He's watching us now,” Nohar said, trying to get a good view. The
light was wrong too damn it, it was too low on the horizon. They had minutes
left before the sun was down.

“Shit,”
Draskin muttered, turning to the others.

“Don't
alert him!” Nohar whispered, but then realized it was too late, the shape was
moving. “He's moving!” he said, bolting from the bench.

“Rooftop!”
Draskin howled, pointing to the building. Nohar was already bounding across the
lawn, over the crime scene tape and over the startled CSI's within. Magnum had
been coming over with ice coffee, he dropped both and oriented on the chase.

“Go go!
Get around him!” Nohar yowled, hitting the fire escape and climbing fast. The
iron shook as his 500 kilogram body pounded up it.

“You
heard him! Cut him off!” Draskin said, waving his people and getting them to
surround the building.

Nohar
got to the top and ducked under the ledge. He pulled Matilda and peeked fast,
nothing there. He climbed over the side as he noted cops following in his wake.

The
rooftop was covered in vents, chimneys, access doors, and sheds. Plenty of
places to hide. He started a grid scan, sweeping for shadows and movement when
he saw a tuft of a tail moving. He aimed, but didn't have a shot. Snarling he
moved into the chase. “north!” he roared.

An
answering roar of challenge came from ahead of him. It was long, a hunting roar
from deep in a gut, deep in the past. Even he, a predator shivered, there was a
hint of rage and cunning in the upper register of that voice. The voice roared
again, this time there was a hint of laughter in it. That infuriated him more.
To the killer this was all a fun game, he thought. He was using the various
structures around to reflect his voice, bouncing it around to disorient Nohar.

He
heard a human female scream, and then a gloating laugh. He could hear sobbing
so he headed cautiously in that direction. He peeked around a corner to find a
woman sprawled on her rear, skirt up over her head wailing. A carpet was in
front of her. She had soiled white granny panties on. She peeled the skirt off
from over her head to peek, saw Nohar rounding the corner and covered her head,
wailing again.

“Oh
shut up lady! I'm one of the good guys!” Nohar snarled in passing.

He
heard someone running and got around a blocking chimney in time to see a Neocat
leap. He swore, trying to get a shot off, but not having a clear shot he
hesitated. He rushed to the side and looked, the bastard had jumped to a nearby
rooftop five meters away.

“Next
building!” Nohar snarled over his shoulder. He noted the power lines strung
between the buildings, them and then clothes lines. “This is such a bad idea,”
he said, stepping back, holstering Matilda and then dropping into all fours for
a run. He got to the edge and screamed, going over it in a leap for his life.

His
clawed hands caught the ledge, he'd barely made it. His back paws dug into the
brick, finding holes in the mortar for purchase he pushed himself up and over
and into a roll. “I am so getting too old for this,” he muttered. He looked
back to the cops. They were scratching their heads on the opposite rooftop. He
pointed north. One saw him pointing and nodded, turning to the side to yell at
someone bellow. Nohar didn't bother to look, he stayed on the hunt.

He
tried to scent the bastard out in the nest of pipes, wires, brick chimneys, and
other things. It was a maze, a maze with mines of glass skylights and other
things. He kept low, looking. All he could smell was Magnum's damn cologne
though.

He
found tracks, claw marks where the killer had run with his claws out. He
followed them to another ledge. This one dropped to a building a story below.
He saw a predator there in the dark, golden eyes turned to look over his
shoulder briefly. He snarled and stepped back to run once more.

He made
the leap, but in his role he collided with a vent pipe and then the edge of a
chimney. He got up a bit slower this time and oriented. He heard a howl of
laughter and snarled, orienting on it. “Stupid,” he growled. He followed the
sound.

He
noted the smell again, he realized the bastard was using it to cover his
tracks. But in doing so he was giving something else to Nohar to track.

This
time when he heard the bastard leap he stopped and oriented on the buildings
around them. He frowned, there was only one he could leap to, and it was
surrounded on 3 sides including this one by taller buildings. “Gotcha,” he
growled. “north east! Towards the Open Air Market!” He roared and then coughed.
He heard the distant sound of breaking glass. He shook his good arm as he
checked over the side. Indeed, the killer was on the other rooftop in the
shadows. He could barely make him out in the dying light. The sun was down, he
had but minutes to get him. He picked his landing spot and then backed up for
his run.

When he
landed he rolled again, but this time tucked his left arm into his duster and
came out with Matilda in a crouch. He did a fast sweep, when nothing showed up
he did another, slower. There were tufts of hair and a claw sheath on a
skylight. The glass was broken. He looked and snorted, there were people below
looking up in shock. The window opening was too narrow, no way the killer
dropped through it, even diagonal. No, he'd done it to throw Nohar off.