Wake the Devil (6 page)

“We’ll have an officer with you at all times and you’ll have to follow their directions. This isn’t a situation any of us can take lightly.”

Rachel informed him, “I’ll do it provided I can still come to the office and make my rounds. If a surgery is necessary, Stu Patterson can cover for us, unless it’s a problem he can’t handle. If that happens, I guess we’ll deal with it at the time.”

“Good,” Jack said. “If everyone works together, we’ll come through this all right.”

Rachel’s laugh was rueful, “I said the same thing to our staff just before you arrived.”

“Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary this morning?” Beth asked.

“Like what?”

“People showing up you don’t know, phone calls, odd packages being delivered, anything.”

“We know all our patients,” Landry said. “Every one of them has to check in with the secretary. The only person who’s been here today who’s not a patient was a fire marshal to inspect the wiring.”

“A fire marshal?” Beth said.

“We’re expanding to next door. The group who was there moved out and we took over their lease. We have all kinds of wiring that needs to be done first before we can move in.”

“I assume there were no problems,” Jack said.

Landry shook his head. “Nothing he mentioned. The man only stayed a few minutes. He didn’t even look at the junction box.”

Beth turned to Dwayne Stafford and asked, “Is that right?”

“I was here the entire time,” Stafford said. “He just looked around and left.”

Dwayne Stafford was a tall gangly young man with sandy brown hair who generally worked with Ed Mundas, another detective with Robbery-Homicide. Together they made up the team of Frick and Frack, as the cops had dubbed them. Both were solid officers and relentless at tracking down witnesses and leads.

“You check his ID?” Beth asked.

“The guy was in uniform, Beth.”

“A priest was in uniform yesterday,” Jack said.

He and Beth exchanged another glance.

“I’ll call Fire to confirm it,” Beth said. She turned back to Stafford and said, “Show me where he looked.”

W
hile Jack was speaking with the witnesses, Beth reached the fire department and asked for the watch commander. He wasn’t in, so she left a message. After retrieving her evidence kit from the cruiser, she began a systematic search of the area where the fire marshal had been. It was possible she was wasting her time, but better safe than sorry. It took the better part of an hour to collect a variety of samples. These included two black threads, which were promising because they might have come from one of Father Beckley’s suits. She also recovered several grains of a reddish substance with the coarseness of sand. She had no idea what they were or if they would be significant. Jack was better at that stuff and had an uncanny way of linking isolated bits of what seemed to be useless items into evidence.

They had yet to hear from Milner or the U.S. Marshals, which meant Dwayne Stafford needed to remain on the job until relieved. He was agreeable though obviously bored. Early that morning, Jack had gone part way through the Sandman files and the more he read about the killer, the worse it got. He decided there was no alternative other than to provide the doctors round-the-clock protection. He placed a call to Captain Koster who confirmed two uniform officers would be there in thirty minutes. The Atlanta PD seemed happy to help as long as the investigation remained under one roof—theirs.

They said good-bye to everyone and left to meet Dan Pappas. Beth’s secretary had relayed a message saying he wanted to get together for lunch at Linden’s, a cop hangout at the Peachtree Battle Center a short distance from where they were.

*

Linden’s was essentially a glorified diner that had been at the same location for sixty years. Jack had been there once or twice and liked the place. They took a table near the back. As far as he could see, the menu hadn’t changed, nor had the décor, which was something out of the fifties. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see Frankie Avalon walk in singing “Beauty School Dropout.” The booths were large enough to seat six people and the tables were Formica. The seats and their backs were vinyl. Each one had a paper napkin dispenser and a small jukebox where you could select what song you wanted to hear by flipping through some pages on the inside. There were a lot of Frank Sinatra and Elvis selections. The most recent rock groups appeared to be either the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Monkees, or the Dave Clark Five.

The Monkees? Seriously?
Jack shook his head.

A low whistle from Beth caused him to look up. Dan Pappas had just entered the restaurant with Janet Newton and a man he didn’t know.

“This place is great,” the deputy director said, sliding into the booth next to Jack. “I’ve never been here before.”

Dan Pappas got in next to Beth and introduced Carmine Donofrio with the U.S. Attorney’s office. Donofrio was dressed in a business suit and had prematurely white hair. It looked like he went to a good stylist. Jack guessed he was about forty.

Donofrio said, “I’m glad we could get together, Kale. I’ve heard some good things about you from Director Newton.”

“It’s Dr. Kale,” Beth said.

“Excuse me?” the attorney said.

“I’m here because my office needs to be kept in the loop about any developments. We’ve invested a lot of time putting together a case against Sergei Borov. I’ll be leading the prosecution team.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Jack said.

“So, what can you tell me?”

“Not much at the moment. We’re fairly sure there was an aborted attempt on the witnesses yesterday. Unfortunately, it resulted in the death of a priest. That would seem to confirm the Sandman’s already
in town. Detective Sturgis and Al Komanski, an FBI technician, each collected evidence samples at the scene that have been turned over to Atlanta’s Crime Lab for analysis.”

“That’s it?”

“Considering we got the case less than twenty-four hours ago, yes. Since then we interviewed the witnesses and determined they can be better protected in a safe house. Actually, we just came from their office. They were agreeable, provided they can continue with their hospital rounds.”

“I’m not sure I like that,” Donofrio said. “I was considering placing them in federal protective custody.”

“I already made the deal with them,” Jack said. “Let’s see how it works out.”

“Your deals don’t bind the U.S. Attorney’s office, Dr. Kale.”

Janet Newton placed a hand on Donofrio’s arm and said, “If Jack made an agreement with them, he has the support of our office.”

“They have sick kids to attend to,” Jack added.

“There are plenty of doctors in Atlanta,” Donofrio said.

“I gave my word, Mr. Donofrio,” Jack said quietly.

The attorney let out a breath and said, “Maybe you don’t understand what’s at stake here. Sergei Borov is priority one.”

Jack said, “My impression was keeping Rachel Lawrence and Will Landry alive was priority one.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jack didn’t reply.

Donofrio’s finger beat a rhythm on the tabletop for several seconds. He took a sip of the iced tea the waitress had brought, maintaining eye contact with Jack over the rim of his glass. Jack returned the look and waited. He’d met people of Donofrio’s type before and as a rule didn’t care for them. His father, an air force colonel, had been that way. “All right,” Donofrio said. “I’m outvoted. I’ll go along with your plan . . . for now. Janet thinks a great deal of your abilities.” He took a business card out of his wallet and slid it across the table. “My home number is at the bottom along with my private e-mail. I want daily progress reports.”

“You’ll be updated as the matter evolves.”

Everybody has an agenda, Jack decided. Janet wanted the killer stopped. The attorney wanted to make his case. Borov probably wanted to continue selling his chemicals, arms, and electronics to whoever was interested in buying them. And the Sandman wanted two witnesses dead.

Donofrio’s attention was momentarily distracted by a waitress walking by in a short skirt. He tracked her progress for a moment, then asked Jack what his next move was.

“Detective Sturgis collected some samples at Rachel Lawrence’s office that we’ll be taking a look at later. We’re also waiting for a call from the fire department.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Double checking. Apparently one of their people came out earlier to inspect the wiring. Given what happened at the church yesterday, we just want to make sure it was legitimate. Then I need to finish reviewing the Sandman files. Everything was pretty hectic yesterday.”

“I can be of some help there,” Janet said. “We received more information from German police this morning.”

“Do that when I leave,” Donofrio said. “What about this evidence you found?”

“Well . . . we’re not sure it is evidence yet,” Jack said.

“You’re confusing me, Dr. Kale.”

“It all depends on whether a real fire marshal was there or not. Hopefully one was. The general rule is at the beginning of a case you gather a lot of data and samples. Usually you don’t know what will fit and what won’t until somewhere down the road. Examining everything takes time, but I don’t think we can be too cautious here.”

Donofrio still didn’t get what Jack was talking about and turned to Beth for clarification. Jack noticed his eyes had strayed to the top button of her blouse, which was undone. Clearly, the man was a pig.

Beth informed him, “Assuming we’re not jumping at shadows, most of what I found are what we call trace items. There was also a shoeprint, which we might be able to match against the one I found at the church yesterday, along with a couple of threads that could have come from the priest’s clothing. What I’m interested in are some red grains I picked up. According to Ben Furman—that’s the crime lab technician who worked the Stone Mountain scene—similar grains
were taken into evidence from the tram’s control room on the loading dock. I saw them at the church, and again at Dr. Lawrence’s office. That makes three times. No way it can be an accident.”

Donofrio nodded.

Beth continued. “I agree with Jack. It’s way too early to reach any conclusions.” She added for Janet Newton’s benefit, “We’ll be sending them to your people for further analysis. If the fire marshal really was the Sandman, those grains might give us some clue as to where he’s hiding. By the way, any idea where Todd Milner is? We haven’t seen him today.”

“I’ll check,” the deputy director said, taking out her phone. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the keypad as she sent him a message.

“I suppose what I’m really asking,” Donofrio said, “is whether you have a plan for nailing this bastard. It’s obvious traditional methods haven’t worked in the past . . . no offense, Janet.”

She glanced up from her typing, gave him a frozen smile, and continued.

“You’re correct,” Jack said. “This man is extremely smart and apparently quite resourceful. He’s been a general pain in the ass to a number of law enforcement agencies for a while now, which makes him unique. I see no reason why that will change. My thinking is if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, Muhammad will have to go to it.”

“A trap?” Donofrio asked.

“At this point, it’s just a preliminary thought. We know what his goal is, and we know he’s operating under a short time frame because the grand jury is scheduled to meet soon. I believe this gives us an advantage. What we don’t know is
how
he’ll strike. Fortunately we can control where, and possibly lure him out into the open.”

Beth glanced at Janet Newton, who was listening to the exchange, sat back in her seat with a satisfied smile. Beth was used to Jack developing strategy on the fly. Pappas had once compared him to a fighter coming off the ropes. It was mystifying and occasionally satisfying to observe, but at the moment it annoyed her though she wasn’t sure why.

“I like it,” Donofrio said.

Janet Newton told them, “I just texted Todd. He should get back to me quickly.”

“Ask him about the marshals he was supposed to have at the docs’ offices,” Pappas said.

“I will.”

Jack had placed his phone on the table when he sat down. He glanced at it and returned his attention to the U.S. Attorney.

“All right,” Donofrio said, pushing himself away from the table. “I’ll leave you people to your work and look forward to reading those reports.”

They watched him walk out. Dan Pappas also slid out of the booth saying he needed to order lunch for Dwayne Stafford. Jack checked his phone once again, then excused himself to use the restroom.

W
hen they were alone, Janet asked how Jack was. Beth wasn’t sure if there was more than one meaning behind her question or how much she knew about his panic attacks, so she chose a neutral answer.

“Fine,” Beth said. “He’s brilliant. If anyone can catch this Sandman, it’s him.”

“Did you enjoy working with him a few months ago?”

“I did. You have to stay on your toes,” Beth said. “He tends to jump from one thing to another, but there’s usually a reason for it because his mind works so quickly.”

“I remember,” Janet said with a wry smile. “I understand he’s divorced now.”

“That’s right.”

“And if I recall correctly, he had a young daughter. Did she stay with him or go with her mother?”

“They’re living in California now. Jack flies out to see her on holidays and she came to visit for a few weeks last summer.”

Janet Newton was quiet for a moment. “When he and I were speaking earlier, he mentioned having a problem with taking too much medication. I guess that’s what I was referring to when I asked how he was doing.”

“He seems to be okay,” Beth said.

“Would that be something you’d know?”

“I think so.”

The deputy director nodded to herself and turned her glass first one way and then the other, eventually centering it on a paper coaster.

“A lot of people were surprised when Jack resigned from the Bureau. I don’t know if you know, but they actually made a TV movie about him. Changed the names, of course. He was considered a rising star . . . a big one. Then out of the blue, there was an incident. I can’t get into the details. What I need to know is if he’ll be able to see this case through to the end.”

“I’m sure he will,” Beth said. She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. “Maybe you should speak with him.”

“I have,” Janet said. “He says he’s fine. I hope that’s true because there’s a lot riding on this case. Between you and me, I think Jack is wasting his time teaching. It’s like he’s been hiding out from the world. I offered him a chance to come back to the Bureau. We’re in desperate need for people with his talents. To say the least, they’re prodigious. Your boss, Noah Ritson, feels the same way. Of course, Ritson wants him with the APD, which would be a mistake. In the long run, we can do a lot more for him. How do you see it?”

This wasn’t something Beth wanted to talk about. If Jack went with the FBI, they could literally ship him anywhere. Discussing private matters went against her grain. She’d seen his panic attacks first hand. They were frightening and scared the hell out of her. She also knew about Connie Belasco because Jack had told her. The first time she’d witnessed one of his attacks, she thought he was dying. The decision he’d been faced with was unbelievable. Psychologists might not be able to pinpoint the source scientifically, but to her it seemed fairly obvious. More puzzling was why they hadn’t gone away. Diminished, yes, but they were still there. She was torn between wanting what was best for him, even if that meant rejoining the FBI and going wherever they sent him, and wanting to build a life together as a couple. Was it wrong to want a life with the man you loved? She’d been raised to believe partners supported each other and helped the other grow.

On the ride to the restaurant, Jack had told her Janet usually found a way to get what she wanted. Looking at the deputy director, a shiver went up her spine because of the carrot she was holding out. It had the potential to turn their lives upside down.

“I really don’t have an opinion,” Beth said. “Jack needs to do what’s right for himself and his daughter. I have no experience with your organization, so it’s hard to say. To be honest, I was surprised when you mentioned you and Jack had worked together.”

“Oh, we go way back,” Janet said. “So what’s your story? It must be good because he specifically asked for you.”

“There’s not much to tell. My dad’s a cop up in Charlotte and I’ve been with the department a little over six years.”

“Married?”

“Divorced.”

Janet nodded as if that was expected. “Things didn’t work out?” she asked.

“You could say that,” Beth said. “He wanted an open marriage.”

The deputy director blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”

“William was a professor at Boston College. He figured sleeping with his students was one of the job perks.”

“Sick. I can see why you divorced him. I take it you didn’t share that view.”

“Not quite. He saw himself alive; I saw him dead.”

Janet laughed.

“How about you?” Beth asked.

“My ex was decent enough. But it’s tough being married to the Bureau and keeping a relationship going at the same time. So when did you and Jack meet?”

“About eight months ago. I went to him for advice on my partner’s recommendation because he was the one who caught Howard Pell. From where we stood, it looked like we had a copycat on our hands.”

“I remember reading about that in the papers,” Janet said. “I wasn’t involved in the original Scarecrow case, but I recall we committed a lot of resources to finding that madman. Of course, it was Jack who put it all together. That was the beginning of his problems. He wound up leaving the Bureau as a result. If he hadn’t, he’d probably be deputy director today.”

“Was that his last case?” Beth asked.

“Yes.”

Janet Newton took a small compact mirror from her purse and examined her makeup for a moment, then reapplied her lipstick. She was an attractive woman with honey-blonde hair that came just to her shoulders and eyes that were more violet than blue.

“So, in your opinion, Jack’s in a good place to handle this situation?”

“I think so,” Beth said.

“When I say a good place, I mean mentally and emotionally. I know there’s nothing wrong with him physically. He hasn’t changed much in the last ten years. A little more mature in the face maybe.”

Beth frowned at the last remark. The frown deepened when Janet laughed to herself at some private memory.

The deputy director noted Beth’s expression and explained. “One of the cases we worked together required us to pose as a married couple. We wound up sharing a room.”

One of Beth’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“Everything was on the up and up. Jack’s very proper in that regard. When I say there’s nothing wrong with him physically, it’s because I walked in on him coming out of the shower. He blushed like a school boy.”

“I see.”

Beth wasn’t nearly as amused. Her reaction fell somewhere between annoyance and being offended. On the other hand, Janet had no idea she and Jack were lovers or that they lived together. At least she hoped not. That didn’t mean she wasn’t probing a little. You don’t get to be a deputy director of one of the world’s elite law enforcement agencies by being a fool. Was there a point behind these comments? Beth’s instincts told her yes, which was a problem. If she disclosed her relationship with Jack, that would be all Janet needed to remove her from the case.

Saw him coming out of the shower! What was the penalty for slugging an FBI agent? Beth resolved not to respond. Let her make of that what she would.

Janet surprised her by reaching across the table and covering Beth’s hand with her own. “He seems to think a lot of you. Would you consider giving him a gentle nudge in the right direction? I only
want what’s best for him. I also believe what’s best for Jack is also what’s best for the Bureau.”

“I, uh—”

“We’re living in troubled times. There are people out there who hate us. If this turns out well, there’s every chance Jack could start handling the type of cases that could make a big difference to our country.”

Shit, Beth thought. Shit, shit, shit. Nothing like hitting below the belt. How do you argue against your country, particularly when you know she’s right?

“Sure, I’ll talk to him, Janet.”

The words came tumbling out before she had a chance to stop them. An image of someone rolling a hearse up to the door on their relationship popped into her mind.

To make matters worse, her secretary had let it slip Jack was looking at engagement rings. No one in her damn department could keep their mouth shut. Of course, she was elated to hear it. So much so, she’d surreptitiously been looking at wedding bands in the mall and practicing a surprised expression in the mirror when he finally popped the question. If things went the way the deputy director wanted, they’d probably station him in Abu Dhabi, or worse, Washington, DC, where she lived. Beth felt the color in her face rise.

She glanced up to see Jack coming down the hallway.

“Shush,” Janet said. “He’s coming back.”

The deputy director winked and withdrew her hand.

Wonderful.