A World Without Secrets (25 page)

The cabin was occupied when I arrived, and I spoke to the man I found there. He said he had purchased the property at auction after the previous owner failed to pay the property taxes. He was concerned that something involving the FBI might affect his ownership rights and wanted to know what I was investigating. I told him I couldn't discuss the case but that I didn't think his property rights were in danger.

After thanking him for his time, I walked around the lot and then down to the lake. It was a beautiful location. I would have loved to have something like that myself for vacations, but it was only a pipe dream. I had been a city person most of my adult life, and I didn't know if I could ever be comfortable in the land of crickets and mosquitoes.

After arriving back at my hotel room, I took out the gizmo and went to the last abduction. I tagged the nail file and then zoomed to the present. I was surprised to discover that the nail file was still in the garage on Magorim Street. That didn't seem possible, but the gizmo had never been wrong. I zoomed in on its location, but it was pitch black. I slowly pulled back, but it remained black. So I moved the image left and right, but still the light level never changed. Finally, I raised the window and kept raising it until an image resolved. I had to laugh. The nail file was down in the drain on the garage floor. It must have wound up there when the perp used the pressure washer on the interior of the van. I didn't know if its condition would allow it to be used as evidence, but at least I knew where it was. As I turned the window to look around, I saw that the current tenant was a sign company. It appeared that their main business was producing those paper signs used in grocery store windows to promote specials. The drain had been so dark because the cover grill appeared to be packed with dirt. That was good. The drain might be dry and rust on the chrome nail file might be at a minimum. It was a pretty sure bet the plastic handle would be intact.

I spent the next few hours writing up my report and sending it off to the Bureau before I went to bed. I had enjoyed the sojourn and the more pleasant weather, but I was looking forward to going home. Although I had only been gone a few days, I missed Kathy. I had spoken with her twice since arriving in California, but it sure wasn't the same as being able to hold her.

Before I left, I stopped in to visit Sheriff Beronson and thank him for his cooperation and assistance in helping me solve the case and identify the killer.

"You solved the case? Already?"

"I believe so. I can't comment officially until my superiors review my report and make a determination. If they agree with my findings, you'll receive a copy of the report."

"You can't tell me anything?"

I hesitated for a couple of seconds, then said, "This is off the record. Thanks to the information Detective Lasker provided, I was able to develop a lead in the case. I believe the killer is dead, so there's no more worry that he'll kill again. Justice has been served."

"Who was it?"

"Someone from out of town." I gave the Sheriff the perp's name.

"Never heard of him."

"I sent my report to the Bureau last evening. If they accept my findings and they become part of the case file, the case will be closed and you'll be sent a copy of the report."

"You're
sure
the killer is dead?"

"Yes. I suspect the fourth victim was responsible."

"Why?"

"Because he died of a stab wound to the belly a week after he killed her. But don't spread that around until my superiors rule on my report."

"Knowing that one of his victims might have done him in makes me feel a hell of a lot better."

"I feel the same. Thanks again, Sheriff."

"Come back anytime, Special Agent James."

I hadn't been home more than a few hours when I received a call informing me I was expected to be at Brigman's office at nine on Monday morning. Since I had completed my report, I would be able to spend the weekend with Kathy. We had made plans to attend a new play and then finish up the night at her place.

Monday morning found me polishing the seat of my pants outside Brigman's office. The weekend had been wonderful, so I was feeling pretty mellow and sat there patiently until I was called.

The same three people I had met on previous occasions were in the office with Brigman. Since we had never been introduced and I was so rarely at the office, I still had no idea who they were. I decided to look into it the next time I used the gizmo. Brigman started off the conversation in the manner I expected.

"You really think you solved a twelve year old serial killer case is less than two weeks?" he asked in his usual gruff voice.

"I had the benefit of all the work done before me by excellent investigators. I didn’t have to cover old ground. I just had to look at things they hadn't."

"And just how did you develop this startling theory, James?"

"Not one single witness to any of the abductions had come forth. If we were talking about abductions in the prairie areas of Montana or even the desert areas of Arizona, a lack of witnesses would be understandable. But having no witnesses to midday abductions in heavily populated areas of California was illogical. The perp would have to be invisible, so I looked at situations that would
make
him invisible. The previous investigators had eliminated many possibilities, so I concentrated on the few that were left."

"Why did you choose to concentrate on package delivery vehicles?" the lone woman in the room asked. "What about floral delivery, for example?"

"There are so many package delivery vehicles on the road during midday that they're more invisible than other types. The original investigation had included all legitimate package delivery drivers but didn't check for fraudulent drivers in look-alike vans. In fact, the greatest danger to the perp's invisibility would have been if another vehicle for the same company had spotted him. These folks cover a large territory, but they work out of a single distribution location and know each other. They would have known something was wrong if they didn't recognize a driver who supposedly worked for their company. Since most of these services have scheduled routes, I suppose the perp followed the trucks in the areas where he planned to strike so he could learn their routes and times. If I hadn't found the right connection on the first try, I would have moved on and investigated other delivery vehicles."

"You say in your report that you located body parts at the junk dealer's location and believe they were from the victims but that it was still speculation," Brigman asked. "Where are those body parts now?"

"Right here," I said as I opened the brown paper bag I had brought with me, lifted the small wooden box out, and placed it on Brigman's desk.

"That should have been sent to the lab," he growled.

"I just arrived back this weekend. Today is the first time I've been at headquarters."

Brigman glared at me and leaned over to lift the box's cover, then lifted one of the glass jars out. "Ears?"

"The case file states that the ears of all four victims were missing, but that fact was never reported to the media. When I saw these, I assumed they were from the victims."

"If the DNA matches, I guess this case is closed," one of the other men said.

"I'd like the Bureau to do one more thing," I said. "I'd like the floor drain pipes in the garage building on Magorim Street to be removed and the contents analyzed."

"Why?" Brigman asked.

"I suspect there may be evidence there. One of the items collected by the junk dealer when the property was cleaned out was a high pressure washer. I believe the perp may have used it to clean out his truck after each abduction. There could be additional evidence in the drain, such as hair, earrings, or small personal items."

"We'll take it under advisement," Brigman said. "Have you made any progress on the other assigned case?"

"No, sir. I believed the serial killer case had a higher priority."

"Well then get busy on the other case, James. That's all."

I knew that nothing I ever did would be good enough for Brigman. I had now solved three cold cases and he was still treating me like a rookie who didn't have the good sense to tie his own shoelaces. I stood up and left the office without a word.

When I arrived back home, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and downed it in practically one gulp. It was still morning, and I rarely drank before noon, but I was still fuming over my treatment by Brigman. I took a second bottle from the fridge and sat down at my kitchen table to think. I knew that if Brigman didn't lighten up, I would wind up tossing my gun and badge on his desk one day. And that day might not be too far ahead.

As I unscrewed the top from the second bottle of Bud, there was a knock at my door. Since the unidentified caller was already inside the building, it had to be either my landlord or another tenant. I went to the door and pulled it open. I was wrong. It was Billy Boyles. I had given him a key before I went to Quantico, and he was still dropping by to check on my apartment whenever I was away.

"You're home," he said.

"Yeah. How come you knocked?"

"If you were home I didn't want barge in on you. If you hadn't come to the door, I would have come in to check on things." Seeing the beer in my hand, he asked, "Got another one of those? I need it."

"Help yourself. You know where it is."

Billy took his winter coat off as he followed me into the kitchen, hung the coat on the back of a chair, and grabbed a beer for himself, then joined me at the table.

"Rough night?" I asked after seeing Billy's bloodshot eyes.

"Yeah. The roughest. That's why I didn't make it in to work today. I met this girl downtown yesterday. She says she works on Wall Street, but I swear she was a rodeo bronco buster in a former life. She rode me all night, never tired, and kept begging for more."

"Sounds like you've found a soul mate," I joked.

"I don't know if I can handle her. She wore me out, man. I mean totally wore me out. Nobody's ever done that before. She wanted to come over to my place again tonight, but I told her I needed a full day to recover, so we're getting together tomorrow instead."

"I'm happy for you, pal."

Thanks. So what's up with you? This last trip was really short."

"I managed to wrap up everything quickly."

"You solved a decade old serial killer case in a week? You are getting
good
."

"Just lucky."

"So what are you going to do now— writing, artwork recovery, skip tracing, or just relax? Or are you going to do that brokering thing again? You promised to explain that to me once, but you never did."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'd like to tell you, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's— complicated."

"I'm not stupid."

"I know. It's not that."

"Then what?"

"It's— dangerous."

"Can't be any more dangerous than driving a cab in Manhattan."

"Yes, it can."

"Okay." Billy said with a note of finality. "Well, I guess I should be going. You probably have a lot to do."

Billy drained his beer and stood to leave. I could tell he was upset because I wouldn't share something I had once promised to tell him. I'd never seen him like this. I didn't want to put him in danger, but I didn't want to lose my best friend either.

"Billy, sit down," I said calmly.

He stopped pulling on his coat but just stood there looking at me expectantly.

"Okay, I'll tell you."

He smiled, then took his coat off and hung it on the back of his chair again before sitting down.

"Before I tell you anything about this, I have to emphasize how dangerous it is. You can't tell anyone else. I haven't even told Kathy because it could place her life in danger. I'm not joking when I say that people would kill to acquire something that has come into my possession. Are you sure you want take that risk?"

"Are you kidding?" Billy asked as he got up to retrieve another beer. "After that buildup?"

"I'm not trying to tempt you. I'm trying to convince you that it's best if you never know anything about the— thing."

"If you're trying to convince me to back out, you should stop building the suspense."

I knew I wasn't going to convince him to back out, but I had to try, and he had to know that I had tried. I had swept the apartment for bugs after returning from California, so I just had to hope nothing had been planted while I was downtown at the Bureau. "Okay, here it is." I reached into my pocket and retrieved the matchbox as Billy took a swig from his newly opened beer. When I had withdrawn the gizmo and placed it on the table, it sprang open and all crease lines immediately disappeared. This activity wasn't lost on Billy, and he stopped sucking on his beer.

"Wow," Billy said. "How did you do that?"

"It's a new kind of paper. You've seen it before. It was on my wall when you were here in April. Remember?" I picked up the gizmo and put it against the wall where it had been when Billy had visited.

"Oh yeah. You said you were conducting some kind of static electricity experiment or something."

"That's right. I hadn't yet discovered its
real
secret back then. Watch this." As I touched the corner of the device, it illuminated and an image resolved.

"Whoa!" Billy exclaimed excitedly. "That is so cool! I've seen flat screen televisions, but I haven't seen anything like
this
. Is this what you're brokering? Who with? The Japs? This deal must be worth plenty."

"This isn't a television, Billy."

Looking at me, then glancing back at the device, Billy said, "Whadda ya mean it's not a television? They got some new name for it?"

"I mean you're not watching a television broadcast. This is a monitor and you're looking at a live image of California. It's the last thing I tuned in."

Billy was staring at the image. "I
thought
the action was a little slow for TV or a movie. Is this from one of those web cams like we have sprinkled all over town?"

"No, there's no camera involved. No broadcast. I just tell it whatever I want to look at, and it shows me the image."