Dr. O (11 page)

"She'll be all right. Come on. Get in!"

The helicopter lifted off while Thorpe shouted for the guards to detain a Commonwealth Edison truck that would be speeding their way.

"Have you seen any sign of the truck?"

"No, nothing like that," reported one guard.

"Sorry," agreed the other.

"Where the hell is he then?" she pleaded. "Hit your searchlights, Tim," she told the pilot who responded like his machine. The lights cast an eerie glow along their path but just outside it all was blackness. November night in Chicago.

"Have any—repeat—any trucks gone through your sector?" asked Thorpe.

"Just the Coca-Cola guy," said one.

"Damnit, that's him! Turn this thing around, Tim, head for Eola and 56!"

Robyn Muro snatched on a pair of the headphones at the same time that Thorpe did, monitoring every word. Now she said, "Put out an APB on a red Cola truck going east on Butterfield Road."

"How do you know he'll go east?"

"Airport."

"But he's got a private plane. It could be at any airport in the area, including small municipal airports."

"Then which way do we go?"

"Damn, damn!" moaned Thorpe. "That close..."

"He hasn't gotten away yet."

"Yes he has. Look down there."

It was the Cola truck. Dr. Ovierto had already made a switch.

"All right, all right," said Robyn. "Then we put out a call to every airport in the vicinity to shut down all traffic."

"And we hit the closest ones in .succession, until we get him?"

"That's our best shot."

"Well do it." Donna Thorpe put out the call. She then turned to Robyn and asked, "What's your best guess?"

"Dupage Airport. Recently put in a new landing strip that will handle private jets, and it's the closest of the larger strips."

"These airport people won't cooperate for long. Tim, you heard it, Dupage Airport."

The pilot brought the helicopter around for a north heading.

"Why didn't that Hogarth woman stay put?" Thorpe asked aloud, expecting no answer.

"She's running scared. She saw what happened to Oliguerri."

"No, I saw what happened to Oliguerri."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dupage, Illinois Airport

"I'm telling you, he went up without a clearance or so much as a how-do-you-do," said the controller at the airport.

"I want a full description of the plane."

"It was a Mooney"

"No," said a second man, "it was a Doctor killer."

"Beechcraft, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure."

"Yes, certain."

"Did you get the call numbers?"

"We've got 'em here."

"Great, let's have them."

Thorpe copied the numbers in a notebook she carried. "Send these out. Anyone seeing this plane is to alert the FBI."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Bastard's gotten away."

"And Joe's dead because of you," said Robyn.

"Robyn, you pinpointed Ovierto's point of departure like a pro—"

"Don't try to change the subject, you bitch."

"Joe died in the line of duty. I don't feel any better about that than you, but—"

"You cold, calculating cat, you used him and you lied to him."

"Look here-"

"No, you look here!" She tore open a folded copy of a fax, sent to the Chicago coroner's office from Nebraska FBI, that told her that the penis sent to her in Nebraska had no relationship whatever to the Stavros case in Chicago. "You used us all."

"All right, that's right... and I'd do it over again."

Robyn's right fist came up and bloodied her mouth, sending Thorpe reeling. The helicopter pilot grabbed Robyn, pulling her away, trying to soothe her.

"I don't have any choice, Muro. I've got to get Ovierto at any cost, any cost!" For the first time Robyn saw the flash of madness in Thorpe's eyes which had been so controlled a moment before. It was a look that came over Joe whenever he talked revenge.

"You're as bad as Ovierto... you're just as bad."

"No... nothing on this Earth is as bad as Ovierto."

"Then you run a close second."

She stormed out, the chopper pilot following her, leaving Robyn with her bruised knuckles and a emptiness inside that was close to overwhelming her.

Robyn telephoned Peggy Olson, telling her to get over to Joe's place and to use her badge if necessary to get into his apartment.

"What's this all about, Robyn?"

"Joe's... Joe has been killed."

"Oh, Christ, no! Oh, Robyn, I can't... can't tell you-"

"Peg, the best thing you can do for me right now is to follow my instructions."

"Whatever you want, Robyn, name it."

"Get over to Joe's, above Transfusions—you know the place. Bartender is also Joe's landlord. Get him to open Joe's place for you."

"For what?"

"Files... I want any files you find. I'd do it myself, but I'm the hell out in Dupage."

"Dupage?"

"Don't worry about that. Just get the files before that Thorpe woman does. I want that information."

"FBI files? Hey, kid, what're you getting me into?"

"Peggy, it's for Joe."

"All right... all right."

"Get there before Thorpe's people do."

"I'm on my way." She hung up, and Robyn wished her luck as she dialed for Melody Carter to come and get her. She and Melody took turns crying over Joe Swisher's death for some time before Robyn said, "I need you to come get me. I'm out at the Dupage Airport."

"I'll be there in half an hour. Poor kid, you shouldn't be alone. Should be among friends, home."

"Hurry, Mel."

But when Melody arrived, Robyn didn't want to go home. She wanted her to take her back to Fermilab. Melody gave her no argument, taking her to Joe, tears in her eyes as she drove.

Fermilab was lit as if by a bonfire from all the police cars and floodlights. It looked like a drive-in on Saturday night. Inside, where everything was being cleaned up, including Joe's crushed body, detectives, and cops milled about like so many construction workers puzzling over a problem. She was unable to go to Joe, unable to look into the body bag.

Melody stared at her dumbly, not knowing what to do with her.

"I'll be upstairs," she told Melody, who was now holding firm to her arm. "Want a look at Oliguerri."

The local FBI and police were all around now and she was stopped at the elevator by a man in a suit. She flashed her badge and he let her pass.

Robyn went directly for the lab, where she could see that snapshots were being taken. Another guard at the door made her show her badge. "I'm sorry, only FBI inside," he replied to the badge.

"Get the hell out of my way," she said.

"Now listen, cunt."

"What's going on here?" It was Captain Brian Noone.

"This prick won't let me pass," she said angrily.

"Haven't you taken enough of a beating for one night, Sergeant Muro?" asked Noone, genuinely concerned. "I'm... I'm real sorry about Joe. He'll be missed... God, all I can think to say is one long cliche. Joe was a good man, good cop, despite his rough edges."

"Can you get me inside, Captain?"

"This is an FBI matter, Robyn."

"This was Joe's matter! FBI matter? FBI? Hell, Cap, don't you think I know that?" She bored into his eyes with the fire in her. "We cooperate with Thorpe, she'll wipe our asses, right?"

"Stow that kind of talk with me, Muro."

"Stavros had nothing to do with Ovierto, nothing. That's what I came to tell Joe, but it is too late. Why didn't he answer my calls?" Her voice cracked and tears threatened to well up before she caught herself, steeling herself once more. "Now, damnit—"

"You're sure, about Stavros, I mean?"

"Absolutely. I had the coroner obtain tissue reports from Nebraska to make a match. No match."

"So, appears that we've all been fucked over by Thorpe."

"You're fucked. I'm fucked, but Joe's dead."

"Nobody could have predicted that Joe'd be killed. Hell, the man thought he was bulletproof, and he had convinced just about everyone else of that, including Thorpe."

"There's no excuse for that woman, and there's no telling what other threads of the web she has managed to keep from you and me."

He frowned and gave her a guilty look just before his voice took on an angry edge. "All right, damnit, if it'll make you feel any better, come on inside and have a look... have a good look at Oliguerri over there."

The FBI had wasted no time with Oliguerri. The men circled the body like flies. Their chatter was a guarded whisper, not so much in respect for the dead as in respect for the fact that the CPD was on hand. These men were trying desperately to find some trace fiber or dust particle that might help lead them to Ovierto. Oliguerri was being airbrushed for such details, while his eyes remained wide open, his teeth set into his tongue so deeply that uppers and lowers were touching where he had nearly bitten it off. He'd obviously died a cruel, painful death.

"Poison of some sort," said Captain Noone. "I've seen enough. Wait for you outside."

She glanced from Oliguerri's sad carcass to the room itself. She roamed toward his office when an FBI voice said, "We figure Ovierto entered through the elevator and exited the same way. Service elevator for transporting scientific equipment, experimental stuff."

"Yeah, experimental stuff," she replied, continuing to look around. She knew the FBI guy had been put on her to watch her every move.

As she passed Oliguerri's lab table she saw some paperwork there, just some scribblings in a foreign hand, German, or perhaps his tribal Ibo. She turned and pretended a sudden surge of warmth as if she might faint.

"Are you all right, officer?" he asked.

"Suddenly feel... oh, I don't... water? Is there any water?"

"Cooler over there. Just take a seat, and I'll get it for you."

"Thank you so much."

She snatched the papers and placed them into her purse as quickly as possible. He was still pressing for the water when she straightened and looked back at him, the papers secure. She drained the water, took great breaths of air, filling her lungs and saying, "Captain Noone was right... I shouldn't have come in. I... I'd best leave."

"Yes, ma'am. I think so," agreed the helpful man. "Have you got your legs?"

"Quite all right now, thank you."

He watched her leave before placing the cup she had used to his nostrils, smelling her. Outside, in the hallway, Noone took her by the arm and solicitously walked her to the elevator. "You look a little pale and very tired, Robyn. I want you to go home now. Leave this to Thorpe's people."

"Leave Joe's murder to them?"

"Revenge and anger ate Joe's insides out, and you know that. He was half a man."

"Joe was more man than... than anyone I knew." She pulled from Noone and said, "This cab is mine." She rode down alone, in silence, glancing over the meaningless papers she had stolen from the crime scene. To her they made as much sense as the incidents of this night.

"Oh, Joe," she moaned and her heartbreak filled the elevator cab.

Melody Carter was a bright, young policewoman with long dark hair and dark features. She put her arms around Robyn and led her toward the car. "I'll get you home and put you to bed, honey," she said.

"No, I've got to get to Elena Hogarth."

"The FBI guys said Ovierto kidnapped her."

"That's the bull Thorpe is shoveling. I know better."

"Well, if she wasn't kidnapped..."

"They'll be all over her place by now."

"And every exit from the city, so how do you hope to locate her first?"

"Not sure, but I've got to try."

"Do you even know what she looks like?"

"I got a glimpse of her in a picture with her husband and kid while I was snooping around her office upstairs."

"Where to then?"

"O'Hare International."

"She'll be disguised —traveling under an assumed name —if she's hiding."

"And Thorpe knows that, too."

"Are you sure you're up to this, Robyn?"

"Yes, now go!"

"Are you sure then that we ought to be grinding the same wheel as the FBI?"

"Are you going to drive or talk?"

"All right... all right..."

At the airport the vigil was long and fruitless until suddenly she saw Donna Thorpe in the middle of a circle of her agents. They'd come out of airport security and were now heading toward the terminals. They moved like one machine.