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“Hollis and I, we’re not really a task force. But we’re happy to let the FBI call us one if we can get access to their resources as we work the case.”
“It’s a subtle difference we’re not going to explain to the mayor’s office.” Harry smiled as we stopped and waited for the elevator. “We’re going to convince Macy that our task force is fully staffed. We’re going to grab a couple of plainclothes and pull some patrol officers to help Hollis run down all the leads we’re getting from the tip line.” He slapped me on the back. “You’re going to make the operation look convincing, and Macy’s going to buy it. Got it?”
All I could do was grin. Harry knew more about dealing with administrators and politicians than I could ever hope to understand. He also understood how investigations worked and what motivated detectives. When I thought about it, I realized what a rare combination that was. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I’d told Rayesh I had a secret weapon in Harry Grissom.
Harry turned serious as he looked at me. “I will make this clear, Mike. Do not provoke this asshole when he comes to our offices this afternoon. I know he’s a pompous jerk, but he’s doing his job. He works for the mayor. Understand?”
I nodded. Harry was right. He’s also about the only person besides Mary Catherine who can talk to me like that. Well, that’s not exactly true. A lot of people can, and do, talk to me like that. Harry and Mary Catherine are the only ones I’ll listen to.
Then Harry said, “Give me a rundown on the status of the case.”
This was unlike Harry. He tried to keep up with investigations as they were proceeding. It worried me that he wanted to be ready for this mayor’s aide. I finally asked him, “What’s the real problem here, Harry?”
He looked down at the dirty linoleum floor. Then he said, “That asshole Macy’s been trying to have you replaced as lead detective. I don’t want to give him any reason to push for that again.”
“Does he think he’d be hurting me by taking me off a case that’s distracting me from my family and my wedding? A wedding that’s happening in less than two weeks?”
“You and I both know it would kill you to be removed from a case. Especially this one.”
I thought about it for a moment, then admitted Harry was right. As usual. So I decided to show him I was on board. I gave him a full rundown of the case. Most of it he knew already. But I wanted to underscore some important points.
I said, “There doesn’t seem to be any connection between any of our victims. That doesn’t mean they were selected at random, but they don’t seem to have known one another. Hollis has an interesting theory that our mope travels, maybe for work. We’re looking seriously at homicides in other cities that may match ours. Which also reminds me,” I said, “can we give Hollis a chance to supervise the task force for real, not just for show? All he’ll really do is farm out the leads. He’s been running down a lot of them himself. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the help.”
Harry nodded. “What about the Staten Island homicide? I hear you don’t think that case is related to the others. Why not?”
“The scene just feels different from the ones we’re already investigating. It was orderly. There was no blood spread over the walls, and the body wasn’t really mutilated. A single puncture in the chest, and a stab to her eye. But it was the right e
ye, when all the others have been the left.”
“Any other insights on our killer?”
“Aside from the fact that he typically seems to spend hours at crime scenes? If our theory’s correct, he’s killed in other cities too. We’re thinking it could be close to a dozen victims altogether. Maybe even more. That makes him smart enough not to have been caught already. And dangerous.”
Harry nodded, then said, “About this afternoon. Answer any direct questions Macy puts to you, but don’t volunteer any information, and don’t expand on any points you do make.” He patted me on the back. “I need you. We’re making progress, even if the mayor’s office doesn’t believe it.”
Chapter 33
Daniel Ott didn’t mind working at a desk in the corner of the loading dock. He liked all the sound and activity at this job in Queens. He had an affinity for the workingman. Yet another lesson he’d learned from his first employer.
The men at work on this loading dock and the ones who drove the trucks were definitely hardworking men. Yet as much as he admired them, he also didn’t mind lying low for a few days. He needed a chance to rest, gather his thoughts, and plan his future.
He wondered if the plan he had set in motion at the library would produce results. So far, he hadn’t seen any reports about his message. Or news of the librarian’s death. The police seemed to be spending all their time working a murder on Staten Island. He’d never even been there. Still, the killer seemed to have adopted a pale imitation of Ott’s techniques. He was pleased at the flattery yet puzzled. If the media didn’t know about the eye stabbing, how did this other killer learn his signature?
When his phone rang, Ott answered it immediately. It was noon. “Hello, my lovely girls.”
On speakerphone, with the noise of the workers buzzing around him, his wife and both of his daughters giggled and chatted with him about their days. His wife caught him up on their homeschooling progress, and his daughters regaled him with a story about their cat getting stuck in a tree. The conversation kept him smiling for over an hour.
Then the red-haired woman he’d noticed the other day walked past and yelled about the computer bag lying on the floor of the loading dock, citing a safety hazard. She tried to soften the comment when she realized the bag was his, but she had already made a poor impression.
“Sorry,” the redhead apologized. “When you work around messy men all day, you tend to jump the gun on little things. I forgot you were even back here. So quiet I didn’t even notice you.”
She stepped around the desk and stood just a little too close to Ott as she added, “It’ll be nice to be able to talk to everyone over the computer. The drivers prefer radios and the office people like cell phones. You seem to be the answer to all of our problems.” She gave him a big smile.
Ott nodded but didn’t hold eye contact for very long. But he watched her as she walked away. She had something, some way about her, that was alluring without being wildly attractive. Maybe it was experience? Whatever it was, the image of her smiling face stuck in his head.
A shout caught his attention. Two men were standing on the loading dock arguing about how to load tires into a long truck that couldn’t make the turn to back up to the dock.
Ott stood and stretched, then walked over to where the tires were stacked and looked at the pedestrian walkway down to the street, where the truck was stopped. As much as he liked to remain invisible, sometimes it was irresistible to show off what he could do.
