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My grandfather pulled out his phone. “I’ll tell Arthur. Have him send squads to both places just in case. They’ll need to go in quietly. No sirens. We don’t want to startle or scare him.”
He looked at me. “You said you talked to Curt?”
I nodded. “Day before yesterday, when we came to ask about the purchase of the tarot deck. I was with Mallory when she ordered the stuff.”
“So he’ll recognize you. I’ll talk to Jacobs, but you might be the best candidate to go in. How do you feel about that?”
I expected Ethan to protest, but he was silent. I glanced at him, saw concern on his face. But by his silence, he offered me trust, faith. He squeezed my hand supportively.
“Fine,” I said. “I’m fine with it. I’ll go in. I can talk to him about what he did, why he did it. Try to build a bond?”
My grandfather nodded. “The card. What weapon would he use?”
I offered it to him, but it wasn’t clear from the simple artwork. Castle. Horse. Wands. Pennants.
“The wands?” Ethan asked. “That’s a possibility.”
“Or the braid,” I suggested. “Strangulation?”
“Each murder has been different,” Catcher grimly said. “He won’t repeat something he’s done before. He’s strangled, stabbed, slit wrists. This would be something else.”
“That will have to wait until we get there.” My grandfather held up his phone, stepped away. “Two minutes,” he said to Catcher, “to work the details. And then we’ll get your girl. Because she’s our girl, too.”
Chapter Twenty-three
KING OF THE CASTLE
Like many places in Chicago, Logan Square was the name of a neighborhood and a park within it. And as in other Chicago neighborhoods, the economics of Logan Square varied from block to block. Well-manicured lawns could quickly give way to empty, trash-strewn lots where violence was all too common.
We met in a long strip of parking lot on the street between Logan Square Park and Bellwether Castle. Detective Jacobs was there already, along with a black van, out of which poured some of the city’s best warriors in their black SWAT uniforms.
Jacobs had spread maps on the trunk of his cruiser, and everyone was gathered around.
My grandfather gestured us over, and the warriors smiled and made space in the circle for me. I was nervous but ridiculously humbled by their encouragement.
“Merit will make the approach,” Detective Jacobs said. “And to bring you up to speed, Merit, we’ve got uniforms at Curt’s house right now. They found, I suppose we’ll call it a shrine, to Mitzy Burrows.”
I nodded. “So he’s obsessed with her, and their breakup is probably what got the ball rolling.”
“Probably had the animosity in him for a long time,” said a woman in a suit on the other side of the trunk. I put her in her late thirties, with wavy blond hair and a pretty face. She extended a hand. “Rainey Valentine. Staff psychologist.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, as we shook. “You think he’s got innate violent tendencies.”
“In my experience, this is more a case of a recent trauma lowering his inhibitions. He may not have been engaged in this level of violence in the recent past, but it’s possible he wanted to and suppressed the urge.”
“Whatever the reason,” Ethan said, “he’s violent now.”
“Indeed.” Jacobs nodded. “And we want to keep Merit and Ms. Carmichael as safe as we can.” He looked at Catcher. “We’ve got quiet eyes on the building. He’s there with her, and making arrangements. If anything happens before we can move in, they’ll move in first.”
At Catcher’s nod, Jacobs pointed to the map, to a spot in the front of the building where the turret rose. “They’re here, just in front of the turret. Merit, you’ll approach him directly, across the lawn.” He traced a finger from the street to the spot where Curt had Mallory. “We want him to be able to see you, to watch you move forward. No swords, no weapons. You’ll walk nice and slow, and you’ll keep your hands in the air. You just want to talk to him.”
“Am I negotiating?”
“Excellent question,” Rainey said. “And kind of. You’ll ask him about himself. Find out his needs. You’re there to help him. These elaborate presentations show a kind of pridefulness, a flair for the dramatic. Appeal to that, to his ego. We want a safe resolution of this problem for everyone, and you’re there to facilitate it.”
I nodded. “And if he doesn’t go for it?”
“I suspect he’ll want to talk to you,” Rainey said. “To talk through Mitzy’s betrayal, to talk about his creations.”
“In the meantime,” Jacobs said, “we’ll surround the building. We’ll come in from the back, while you approach from the front.”
I generally saw Jacobs as a kind of grandfatherly figure: smart, dedicated, and gentlemanly, much like my own. But there was nothing gentlemanly about the look in his eyes. It was cold, and it was all cop.
“You keep him occupied until we can bust the little shit.”
I had no objection to that.
* * *
We proceeded on foot in teams. The SWAT members and Jacobs to the back of the building, the Ombuddies, me, and Ethan to the front. My grandfather was the connection between them, a headset in place so he could communicate with the other half of the team.
The photograph had been true to the building. It was square and squat and looked like a castle. I could easily imagine a bride and groom posing for photographs, the castle behind them, surrounded by their wedding party.
But tonight, the scene was much more grim.
A floodlight in the landscaping shone on the turret, highlighting notches in the masonry and tile roof . . . and the woman who lay on the sloping ground in front of it. Her arms and legs were spread and tied, and she was naked, her hair awkwardly braided to fall across one breast. Her eyes were closed—and I didn’t mind if she was unconscious for this part—but her chest rose and fell slowly. She was alive. Not that that helped Catcher’s rage.
Magic burst from him as he took in the sight of her. “I’ll kill him. I will rip each of his arms from his body and shove them up his”—but Ethan pulled him back.
“Stick to the plan. You rush in there, he’ll act rashly. You know that.”
When he was certain Catcher wouldn’t move, he turned to me, put his hands on my shoulders, rubbed. “Fix this for me, Merit. Fix this, and be careful. We’ll be here, waiting.”
