Deadly Sins (24 page)

“I’m going to let you out several car lengths behind Harandi’s taxi.” Adam’s gravelly voice split the darkness. “You can follow him inside while I look for short-term parking.”

“All right. You can call when you get in, and I’ll direct you to our location.”

“I’ll find you. I know the terminal, so it shouldn’t prove too difficult.”

Her phone rang then. Hedgelin. She identified the number on the screen with relief. After confirming their location, she remained mostly silent while her boss issued terse orders. When he seemed to wind down, she said, “Yes, I understand.” The man’s sign-off, she reflected as he ended the call, was as abrupt as Adam’s.

“He’s got agents dispatched. They’ll be arriving soon. Airport security has been alerted, but they’re instructed to stay back unless assistance is needed. One of them will be inside the terminal doors.” Maintaining discretion, she hoped. She didn’t want to take the chance of spooking the professor even further.

The cabdriver several cars ahead was unloading Harandi’s bags while the man commandeered a luggage cart. Adrenaline pumped through Jaid’s veins. When the professor rolled the cart through the double sliding doors, she sent Adam a quick grin. “At the risk of sounding like an almost eight-year-old boy, this is going to be sweet.” She didn’t see Adam’s head swivel at her words. Jaid was already slamming the door and heading down the sidewalk after the elusive Dr. Harandi.

The security guard’s name was Olsen. Midfifties and balding, with eyes that looked too kind for a man in his profession. He assured her there were a dozen other officers on the alert; all of whom were stationed nearby. Jaid repeated the instructions Hedgelin had given her, and he nodded. He’d received the same.

There were more passengers than Jaid would have imagined threading through the confined maze to approach the ticket counter. She hung back, stepping behind a large column to shield her from Harandi’s view. Once he got to the counter, he took an inordinate amount of time buying his ticket and arguing with the attendant about the fee for shipping his extra luggage. It wasn’t until he finished and headed toward the security checkpoint that Jaid made her move.

She didn’t attempt to stay out of his line of vision. Saw the second he recognized her. His expression was shocked. He threw a quick glance around, as if checking for possible exits. Then visibly calming himself, he donned a politely quizzical look as she approached. “Agent Marlowe. I did not expect to see you here.”

“I’ll bet not.” She slowed to a stop beside him. Sent him a cheerful smile. “I thought of a few more questions.”

“This is a most inconvenient time.” He smoothed his mustache, a nervous habit she recalled from that afternoon. “I received a phone call from my home country today. Most upsetting. My mother is ill. Quite ill. I must fly home at once.”

“The sick-mother excuse carries a lot more weight when she isn’t already dead.” The information DHS had shared about the man was scanty, but his family history had been included. “I’m going to need you to come with me.”

He lurched around her, the movement sudden. Because she was expecting it, she was able to grab him easily. There was the sound of running footsteps. By the time Jaid looked up to see that the other agents had arrived, she already had the man on the floor, his arms secured behind his back.

“We’ll take over from here.” The man flashed a DHS badge. Reluctantly Jaid got up, allowed two agents to step forward and flank the man. “Nice job.”

But as they walked Harandi away, the only emotion she was feeling was frustration. Seeing Adam in the distance, she began to walk toward him. There was nothing worse than making a case and having another agency step in to take it over. And she had a feeling that getting answers regarding the professor’s flight attempt was going to be an exercise in futility.

This would be the easiest job yet. The hooded man waited in the bedroom for his prey. He’d planned on the closet, but there was a large floor-to-ceiling cupboard that held an assortment of vestments. It was a better hiding place. The door could be left open a crack, giving him a good visual of the room.

And as always the anticipation was building to a fever pitch. He flexed the piano wire once, his gloved hands lightly grasping the short dowel on either end. This method always gave him the biggest rush. Up close. Silent. And it didn’t get more personal. A death match pitting two adversaries.

But this was a battle the other man couldn’t win.

The light in the room turned on as his quarry entered. The hooded man waited several minutes for the evening rituals to be completed. And then, when his prey turned to rummage in the closet for a robe, he struck.

Four quick steps across the room. Quiet, but the other man heard. Started to turn. Too late. The garrote was already around his neck. Stretched tight.

It was almost impossible to kill with a piano-wire garrote without slicing into the neck, causing blood to rush from the jugular. And that, too, was particularly satisfying.

He moved in a death dance with his prey as the other man fought and struggled for survival, fingers clutching uselessly at the wire cutting into his throat. He eased the wire a fraction while he whispered, “See you in hell, padre.”

Then he went for the kill.

The call came directly from Hedgelin while Adam was on the way into the city that morning. Adam slowly tucked the phone away afterward, shock warring with anger. He examined the news from every angle.

But he couldn’t imagine how Cardinal Cote tied into the other two deaths.

The assistant director’s “request” had been stiffly made. The Evidence Response Team Unit was on the scene. He wanted Adam to take a look, as well.

On the surface the request was surprising. He slowed as traffic started backing up the closer he got to the city. Hedgelin had made no bones about wanting Adam off this case. But he possessed no false modesty. His reputation, and that of the agency he’d built, was internationally acclaimed for a reason. And studying the crime scene firsthand would provide integral details for the profile.

Of course, he thought grimly, as he inched the car forward only to stop again, there was the possibility that Hedgelin wanted to see Adam fail dismally in every aspect of the case he was involved in. At any rate, he hadn’t hoped to see the crime scene until well after the fact or, perhaps, only in pictures. This was an opportunity he didn’t want to miss.

He glanced over to the next lane and saw a woman shouting into her cell phone as she waited. Rage, he thought, was one of the biggest dangers on the road. And in life.

His mind turned to Jerry then, and something twisted in his belly. Although Adam had been the only witness to the priest and cardinal’s yelling match the other night, the animosity that existed between the two men had to be more widely known. Someone would be talking to Jerry, and soon. For the sake of their friendship, Adam wanted to be there for the interview.

Their relationship meant navigating that aspect of the investigation would be a minefield.

The rest of the trip seemed excruciatingly slow. He used the time to consider the case. Figure what this latest murder meant and how it was related. It was a far better use of time than the sleepless hours he’d spent last night.

Running the chronology backward and forward in his head in order to pinpoint the timeline for Jaid’s son’s birth.

The cardinal had lived several blocks away from St. Mark’s Cathedral, with which, Adam learned, the man was affiliated. According to his secretary, Denise Quincy, who had found Cote, he had said one of the masses every Sunday. Adam only spoke to her briefly. The agent questioning her was having a difficult time getting answers between the woman’s copious sobs.

Security was tight. Adam showed identification at both the outer and inner perimeters before being allowed inside the home. There were, he noted with approval, boxes of gloves, shoe covers, and sterile Tyvek suits just inside the door. Identifying himself yet again to the agent stationed there, Adam was finally allowed to don the protective covering and directed to the cardinal’s quarters.

The brownstone that had housed the man was surprisingly lavish. Adam had a pretty good idea what real estate went for in this part of the city. Pretty costly for someone who’d taken a vow of poverty. Although according to recent news stories, the Catholic Church had extensive real estate in this country.

He found the bedroom located on the second floor and waited for yet another agent to once again verify his identity. Then Adam took one step inside the doorway and halted. Just to take it in.

The room was good-sized but looked smaller with all the people working in it. He counted six ERTU techs engaged in their work. None of them looked up when he finally entered.

The cardinal’s body hadn’t yet been removed. He looked vulnerable in his pajamas, stripped of the dignity and bearing that Adam had noted when he met the man. Death was the great equalizer. The expected note card was lying next to the cardinal. The red letters seemed to scream up from it.

Oh, shit. Adam took a deep breath, already calculating the firestorm those four letters would summon. Given the recent scandal the Catholic Church had been hit with regarding pedophile priests, the mere breath of the accusation would be enough to cause some fingers to start pointing. He didn’t envy Hedgelin the job of keeping this quiet.

Jerry’s angry words to the cardinal blazed across his mind then.
And you of all people are in no position to preach to me about vices. At least I’ve never tried to hide mine behind the shield of the church.
Trepidation trickled down Adam’s spine. This was going to get complicated.

He waited until the tech photographing the body was finished before moving carefully to stand beside it. “May I?”

The tech looked at the agent in the doorway. Shrugged and stepped aside. With a decided lack of grace, Adam knelt on one knee for a better visual. Garroted, he observed immediately. Not with an article of clothing. The wound showed him that. Only one thing would inflict that sort of damage. Piano wire was the tool of choice for assassins using this method.

Rigor and lividity had set in on the body. Adam reached out, tested the man’s chest, arm, and then his leg. Large muscle masses were the last to be affected by rigor mortis. It had set into the victim’s arms but not completely in his torso and legs.

“Medical examiner hasn’t been here yet,” the tech standing nearest to him offered. “But from the looks of the body, I’d guess he was killed sometime after midnight.”

Adam checked his watch as he rose. “And probably before four A.M.” He scanned the area. There were few hiding places to choose from. It was possible the offender had hidden behind the door, but Adam was guessing he chose a place with greater seclusion. That left the closet or the large cupboard in the corner of the room.

Being careful to skirt the areas techs were working in, he made his way over to the cupboard. Pulled it open. No shelves, just the clothing the cardinal would wear in conjunction with his duties. He crossed to the closet, where the door still stood ajar, a velour robe lying on the floor outside it. Looking inside he saw more shoes than he would have supposed a man of the cloth would require. But what he didn’t see, though he lowered himself to one knee again to examine the area carefully, was any sign left by a man spending hours in wait.

Adam used the cane to help himself rise again, stifling a wince when his damaged thigh screamed in response. Sending another considering gaze to the cupboard across the room, he had a good indication of where the killer had hidden until he made his move. Crack the door open, wait for the cardinal’s back to be turned, four or five steps to reach the man.

A garrote required an attack from behind. Far more difficult and unwieldy to try for a frontal assault, which springing from the closet would have required.