Polar (Book 2): Polar Day (17 page)
Danny had rarely been more relieved to see his car when he finally returned to the parking lot at the Fairbanks airport. His flight from Anchorage had been delayed four times and what was supposed to be a quick one-hour flight had turned into a tedious six-hour exercise in time wasting. He cringed as he heard the sound of his phone buzzing before he could even open the door of his car. He couldn’t help but wish he had left it on airplane mode.
“Yeah?” Danny said, opening his car door and sliding behind the steering wheel.
“Are you finally back in Fairbanks?” Jack Meyer asked.
“Yes I am. Feels like I’ve been gone for ten years at this point. I thought my new home was going to be the Anchorage airport.”
“Well you need to get back to the station. You won’t believe the shit we’re dealing with now.”
“Considering what’s been going on, if you’re saying I won’t believe it I’m definitely afraid to even ask what it is.”
Danny cradled the phone on his shoulder as he turned out of the airport parking lot. “You need me there right now or can I go take care of my dog first? He’s been alone a long time now.”
“That’s fine,” Meyer said. “But get back here as soon as you can. Our asshole friend sent more letters to the news channels – all of them this time. It’s all over on every channel and we’re totally screwed.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he warned them about his Vulcanalia bullshit and in between breathlessly sharing what that is they’re all bringing on every politician they can find to talk about how the police don’t have a clue who the killer is and we’ve wasted the whole summer twiddling our thumbs while people keep dying.”
“Not that far off, is it?”
“Fuck off, Fitzpatrick. I don’t need you agreeing with them.”
“I’m not agreeing with them. But we don’t have a clue what to do, do we?”
“Just go take care of your dog and then get in here.”
Meyer ended the call without any further barking at Danny. Danny knew he should stop intentionally trying to get his boss’ goat, as he was a good man at heart and had played a key role in saving Danny’s life back in the winter, but Danny couldn’t help himself. It was as easy as winding a top and significantly more entertaining.
He let out a weary sigh as he drove away from the airport and towards his apartment and undoubtedly irritated dog. He could just imagine the looks he was going to get when he left Sox again so soon after coming home. He’d have to make it up to the dog when they finally solved this case and found the lunatic who was threatening to burn down the city in less than a month. He didn’t want to even consider the possibility that they may not be able to find him in time.
****
“It’s about time you got your ass here,” Jack Meyer said as soon as Danny walked inside the police station.
“It hasn’t even been a half hour since I talked to you.”
“I’m heading to the conference room. Tessa’s already there. So are Rizzo and the Chief of Police. We’re all just waiting for your pretty face to join the party.”
Danny followed Meyer into the room and nodded at the others around the table.
“You feeling better?” he asked Tessa as he took a seat beside her. Her face was drawn and her eyes looked tired.
“A little,” she said. “I can get out of bed so that’s an improvement.”
“So tell me about this circus with the news channels,” Danny said, addressing no one in particular.
“We don’t have to tell you,” Jack said. “I’ll show you.”
Jack grabbed a remote and clicked on the television that hung from the conference room wall. Each channel was continuing to provide non-stop coverage of the killer’s letters to them, the meaning of Vulcanalia, and the threat to the city of Fairbanks and its citizens. Of course, the failure of the police to apprehend the killer or even to arrest a suspect was at the forefront of every report.
“I’ve seen enough,” Danny said. “Have you already gone over and collected their letters?”
“Yeah we’ve got them and forensics is going over them but we all know they’re not going to find anything, don’t we? Why should we get that lucky?”
“Did you get anything from Constance Davenport?” Tessa asked.
“Nothing we can use. But more anecdotal evidence that Dzubenko is batshit. He tried to kill her daughter's hamster by setting it on fire.”
Anthony Rizzo spoke up. “Don't tell me, let me guess. They couldn't figure out how he set the hamster on fire, could they?”
“They could not,” Danny answered. “She told me no one in the house smoked and to her knowledge Dzubenko didn't have a lighter. He didn't have any matches on him and there was no sign of a match in the hamster's cage. But the hamster was definitely on fire.”
“What else?” Chief of Police Reggie Winston spoke for the first time since Danny had entered the room. “We need something better than a dead hamster 15 years ago.”
“Actually the hamster didn't burn to death. The Davenports found the poor thing and put the fire out. But of course the animal had to be euthanized…”
“Fitzpatrick, are you purposely trying to be a pain in all of our asses?” Jack Meyer asked. “We don't give a shit about a hamster regardless of how the poor animal met its end. Don't tell me that's all you got out of your trip to Anchorage? I have to justify the expense of your flight, you know.”
Danny let out a sigh. “I'm sorry. I really wasn't trying to be a pain in the ass. The hamster was a very disturbing memory for Mrs. Davenport. She put Dzubenko in therapy after that. But right after he started therapy he threatened her if she ever made him return to the therapist. He said he'd do the same thing to her kids that he had done to the hamster.”
“Jesus,” Chief Winston said. “So what did she do?”
“Dzubenko told her if she let him come back to Fairbanks and enter foster care he'd leave her and the rest of the family alone. He told her he hated his family and just wanted to be done with all of them. So that's what she did.”
“She turned him over to foster care? That's it?” Tessa asked.
“That's it. She was terrified of him and believed his threat. She said the same thing Frank Wainscott said about him. She felt like she was looking at evil when she looked at Jamie. And she believed he had murdered her brother and the rest of his family.”
“So she didn't say a word about his threats or the fact that he tried to kill an animal when she turned him over to Fairbanks?”
“No Tessa, she didn't.” Danny said. “She knows it was wrong. But she was scared to death for her family. And still grieving the loss of her brother.”
“But if she was that frightened how could she keep it to herself?” Jack asked. “Didn’t she think she had a responsibility to alert the authorities? To warn any foster family the kid ended up with?”
The image of Aleksei Nechayev entered unbidden into Danny's mind. The conference room faded away and he could hear the roar of the Arctic wind outside the Snow Creek asylum. He could see Nechayev's fangs as he came towards him and wrapped his arms around Danny's neck...
“Danny?” Tessa asked. “Are you okay?”
Danny cleared his throat. “I'm fine.” He shook off the memory. “Honestly, I felt sorry for the woman. She knows what she did was wrong. But she had four children to worry about. And Dzubenko scared the shit out of her.”
“So we've got Frank Wainscott, you two,” Jack said, pointing to Danny and Tessa, “and his aunt all saying that there's something not right with Jamie Dzubenko. You think the aunt would testify about him now?”
“I think she would,” Danny said. “But what good would it do us at this point? It still doesn't give us any reason to arrest him now.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “But I know in my gut that he's our guy.”
“You already know after what happened in Coldfoot I'm not about to dismiss your gut instincts,” Jack said. “But we need more, obviously.”
“And we need more fast,” Winston said. “I want every available officer working this night and day until we sew up this case. And not just because we've got a PR nightmare on our hands. I don't want to see anyone else killed.”
“We'll go back over everything from the night of the baseball game. Look at every second of cell phone footage and talk to everyone who was there. And talk to everyone who knew Max Fugate and Nick Torrance,” Danny said.
“And go back through the surveillance camera footage from Griffin Park and the New Church of God,” Tessa added.
Jack nodded. “Right. We had to have missed something the first time around. Now that we've got an idea who we might be looking for maybe we'll find it.”
Winston stood up from the table. “Right now I need all of you to come with me for a press conference. I want to present a unified front and show the city we've got our best people working on this.”
He left the room with the clear implication that everyone was expected to follow him. Danny glanced at Tessa, knowing she was dreading the press conference as much as he was. He knew the chief would do all the talking, but he still hated the dog and pony show that these things always turned out to be.
All Danny wanted was a drink and a cigarette. But he knew it would be a while before he could have either. He grudgingly followed Chief Winston and prepared to face the press.
Jamie couldn't suppress his smile as he sat at his desk and scrolled through the news sites on his laptop. He nibbled at the sandwich he had packed for his dinner but he was almost too excited to eat. Jamie had made a habit of taking his meal break alone in the lab. He considered it a complete waste of money to go out to restaurants and he couldn't abide the forced social interaction of the hospital cafeteria. Spending his time alone in his lab was a pleasure for Jamie. And never more so than tonight. It was pure joy to bask in the results of his efforts; putting heat on the Fairbanks police while toying with the news media.
The shrill ring of the phone on his desk interrupted his revelry. He answered it with annoyance.
“Hello.”
“Jamie?”
A timid and barely audible woman’s voice came through the other end of the line. Jamie recognized the voice immediately.
“This is your aunt Connie,” she said.
Jamie stayed silent as he tried to calm his emotions. What the hell was this about? Why would his aunt be calling him now after all these years? After he had put the fear of God in the woman? It couldn’t be good.
“Aunt Connie,” Jamie finally said, clearing his throat. “What a surprise.”
“I can imagine it is. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Why are you calling me? For that matter, how did you find me?”
“I hired an investigator a few years ago to check on you and find out if you were still in Fairbanks. I learned then that you worked at the hospital. So I took a chance that you still worked there and called the switchboard.”
She checked on him with a private investigator? Jamie forced himself to swallow his rage.
“I can’t believe you checked up on me. After all these years? Why?”
“It wasn’t the first time. I wanted to keep an eye on you and make sure you were okay. I felt so terrible about everything that happened.”
“Why did you feel terrible? You did what I wanted. I thought I made that clear.”
“You did, you did. But you were only a kid, Jamie. And you’d been through so much.”
“I was old enough to know what I wanted. And you gave that to me. I didn’t want anything to do with you or anyone else in my family. And I’ve been just fine. Why are you calling me now?”
The silence on the other end of the line made Jamie's nerves twitch.
“Why are you calling?” he repeated.
Connie sighed audibly into the phone. “There was a detective from Fairbanks here to talk to me today. He asked about you and the fire.”
“A detective? What? Why?”
“I don't really know. He just said he was looking into some old arson cases and came upon the fire that killed your family. He asked about your time here with us.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth. I told him about the hamster and how you didn't want to be here with us. I told him you insisted we turn you over to Fairbanks so you could live with a foster family.”
“And what did he say to that?”
“Nothing. He asked if I'd had contact with you since and I told him no.”
“What was this detective's name?”
“Danny Fitzpatrick.”
Jamie seethed. The male detective who had paid him a visit. That son of a bitch...
“You told him about the hamster?”
“I did. I thought I should. But I told him you were traumatized by the fire and not yourself at the time. Jamie, I know about the fires in Fairbanks, they've been all over the news. You haven't had any part in those, have you? Please tell me you haven't hurt anyone.”
“Did this Detective Fitzpatrick say that he thought I had?”
“He didn't, no. But it's not hard to put two and two together.” Connie's voice dissolved into tears.
“Why are you crying?” Jamie asked, his voice brittle.
“Because I couldn't live with myself if you've killed those people. I never should have let you go on your own back then. I should have tried harder to help you.”
“I didn't need help,” Jamie snapped. “I still don’t.” He inhaled deeply and steadied his nerves. “Aunt Connie, please don't cry. I haven't done anything. This detective is desperate because the police don't have a clue who is starting these fires. He's grasping at straws just like the rest of them are.”
“Are you telling me the truth? You're not just playing with me, are you?”
“Of course I'm not. Did you ever know me to play games? I was direct with you, wasn't I?”
Connie stopped crying long enough to feel the chill overtaking her body. Yes, the boy had been direct. In a way that showed there was something missing in his soul. The fear Connie had buried for years returned to her.
“Okay, I believe you.” A forced and hollow laugh escaped from Connie's lips. “I'm sorry I troubled you. This detective just left me a little rattled.”
“Of course he did. That's what they all want to do, isn't it? Rattle innocent people because they're too incompetent to find the guilty ones.”
“I guess so. It just seemed strange he would take the time to fly here to Anchorage just to do that.”
“Wasting taxpayer money by traveling. Another hallmark of the police.” Jamie paused and drew in a breath. “Please don't call me again, Aunt Connie. I have my own life here. It's how I wanted it.”
“I'm sorry for troubling you, Jamie...” Connie heard the line disconnect before she could finish her sentence.
Jamie's hand shook as he hung up on his aunt. How dare she interrupt his summer just when he was so close to its climax. He thought he had made it crystal clear to her way back when that he'd wanted no contact with her again.
But he knew his nosy and irritatingly stupid aunt wasn't the real reason for his anger. He had tried to shake off the visit the two detectives had made to his home. He’d kept the woman’s business card and vowed to make her pay if she caused trouble for him, but he hadn’t really believed their visit had been a serious threat.
Now he knew differently. The man had managed to find his family. What did he know about the fire Jamie had set to kill his parents and siblings? And how could he possibly connect it to Jamie's work now? Was it possible he knew about Jamie's heritage and his magic?
Jamie stood up from his chair and paced the lab. No, that wasn't possible. No one knew about magic in this city and state of imbeciles. None of them understood the world beyond the one they puttered around in every day, walking mindlessly through their lives.
They couldn't possibly have any real evidence against him, but the police had become a thorn in Jamie's side just the same. He walked back to his laptop and returned to the news videos that had brought him so much joy just minutes before. There was more he could do to mess with the police. It would be risky to bring attention to himself, but he knew he could manage it. He'd make Danny Fitzpatrick, Tessa Washington, and all the rest of them regret the day they got in his way. He managed a smile for the first time since his aunt had so rudely intruded on his world. This was going to be fun.
In Anchorage, Connie fidgeted with the phone in her pocket and tried unsuccessfully to stop her hands from shaking. It had been disconcerting to hear the adult voice of her nephew. In some ways, he sounded just like the brother she still missed. But his voice held none of the warmth of his father's and none of the kindness. Connie made a mistake contacting Jamie, she knew that now. Should she contact the detective and apologize to him?
Connie slumped onto her couch and stared out at the night sun, a glowing ball of fiery red and orange. She couldn’t face the thought of contacting Detective Fitzpatrick and admitting her mistake. Yet another mistake in a line of so many she had made since the death of her brother. Or had it been the murder of her brother? Murder at the hands of his own son? In her heart, she knew the answer. She shuddered at the thoughts entering unbidden into her mind but she knew they carried the truth with them. Jamie's voice wasn't just lacking warmth. It was lacking humanity.
****
