Naked Dragon (15 page)

"Let's go." Robbie's face was grim.

The officers who were within hearing range stared at them but said nothing as they left the precinct and climbed into Dave's patrol car.

* * * *

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Dave was glad to have Robbie with them. Previously they had been the ones to witness the crime scenes, then the follow up units were called out once they verified it was indeed another murder. But this time he was on hand. In silence they parked in front of the apartment house and waited for Sgt. Wilson to arrive.

After looking it over, Robbie said, "I figured it would be around here. The back windows face that parking lot. My guess is that he had already murdered the boy before he shot at me, then waited until all the excitement was over to walk away calmly."

"At least you have his car."

"He'll steal another. It won't stop him."

"Sarge is here," Dave said, his eyes staring at the rear view mirror.

They climbed out of the car and met him at the front door.

Sgt. Wilson asked, "How's the arm?"

"Fine. I'm fine, thanks." Robbie waited as he buzzed the manager.

Dave cleared his throat and then said, "Agent Taylor thinks the guy had already killed the victim before he started shooting at him from the window."

"Anything is possible with this one," Sgt. Wilson replied tiredly.

The door was opened and they were escorted to a narrow stairway and an upward climb to the fourth floor. A drop of blood was visible on the door. A key was pushed into the lock, then Sgt. Wilson took a deep breath and shoved it open.

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Pausing, he asked the manager, "Did a young boy just rent this place?"

"Yes. Rent today."

"You have his name?"

"Yes. I have."

"Okay. We'll come by your unit and get it from you."

The man nodded.

"Same MO every time," Robbie sighed. "At least he's consistent."

"Ready?" Sgt. Wilson slipped on a pair of rubber gloves.

As Dave did the same, handing a pair to Robbie, Dave nodded he was ready. Once again it was the blood that was overwhelming. Walking carefully over spatters, Dave looked over his shoulder as Robbie instantly spun around to check the wall behind them. In ragged red letters the new note said
Sorry to have missed you. I'll try again soon
.

After Dave read it, knowing exactly what it meant, he followed the sarge into the only other room, the bedroom, expecting the same sight as the last few. But this time, it was different.

Standing at the doorway, looking over Sgt. Wilson's shoulder as he contemplated the scene, Dave struggled to figure out what he was looking at.

They backed away, allowing Robbie to see inside. "Crap,"

he moaned. "Now we have to find the rest of him."

"Did he empty the guy out?" Dave asked in disgust.

"Looks that way," Robbie shook his head as he replied.

"How the hell did he get the rest of the body out without being seen?" Sgt. Wilson walked to the window to look down.

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"Clear shot at the parking lot from here." He stared down at the sill. A spent cartridge was deliberately set upright on it.

"He wanted us to know, look." He pointed to it.

"Did he spell something out with those intestines?" Dave asked, backing up so he didn't tread in anything.

"I think it says p-i-g." Robbie tilted his head at it.

"We have to find a torso without its contents. Great." Sgt.

Wilson took his phone out of his pocket to call homicide, making his way out to the hall.

Wanting to leave the room to get fresh air, Dave was about to gesture to Robbie to come with him when he found Robbie staring off, as if he was in a trance. He'd seen him that way before. Standing perfectly still so he didn't disturb him, Dave shut up and waited as Robbie seemed to be sifting the facts to get to the solution. The dull drone of his sergeant's voice was heard from out in the hall relaying the gory details of the latest scene. Dave wondered what would happen next. The stench of rot was beginning to make him a little queasy.

"In the trunk."

"What?" Dave said in surprise.

"It's in the trunk."

"How would he know you'd find his car?" Dave asked in shock.

"He didn't. I've no idea if that shot was to get me away from it so I wouldn't find it or not. I need to go to the crime lab."

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Nodding, Dave led the way out of the room to where his sergeant was standing. When Sgt. Wilson hung up the phone, he said to Dave, "Go get the kid's info from the manager."

"Okay, sarge. Agent Taylor thinks the torso is in the car."

Sgt. Wilson spun around to him. "Do you? He's never done that before."

"I think I put a damper on his plan. My guess is that he wanted to put it in an alley again where we would stumble on it. I think I got him angry when I located his car. He didn't plan on that."

"Could be." Sgt. Wilson nodded.

"I'll get my men to take me to the crime lab, if that's okay by you."

Sgt. Wilson nodded.

Dave met Robbie's eyes but said nothing. It was bad enough he had escorted this handsome agent to the hospital.

Dave knew there would be rumors floating around about his sex life already.

"Right. I'll get that kid's name." Dave gestured to the staircase. Right before he descended it, he watched as Robbie mouthed
Later?

Dave nodded discreetly, then left.

* * * *

Robbie turned his radio to the channel the FBI agents were monitoring. "What's your location?" he asked when they answered his call.

"Right outside."

"Come up. I'm here."

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He clipped his lapel mike back and then waited at the landing for them.

Agent Skinner was first to meet him. "How's the arm?"

"Fine. Look, he emptied the chest cavity and left the organs all over the place, but I think the torso is in the trunk of that car."

"You think it's in there?" Agent Green asked skeptically.

"Why? Why take a chance moving the body?"

"Because he's a bold, cocky SOB, and planned on dumping it like the last one."

Agent Skinner and Green exchanged looks, then Agent Green said, "Let us just take a look inside the apartment, then we'll go check out the car."

Robbie nodded as they stepped carefully into the room.

The clamor of the crime lab and homicide men soon followed, making their way up the stairs.

In a few minutes the agents exited the room and allowed the detectives to take over the scene. Agent Skinner said,

"Bullet casing right on the window sill."

"I know. He left it there deliberately. It was upright and we didn't touch it."

"Okay, let's go see if the torso is in the car." Agent Green nodded, then gestured to the stairs.

As he passed, Robbie heard Dave's voice coming from out of the open door of the manager's apartment as he interviewed him. He smiled to himself and then headed out to the dark sedan.

They were met at the garage door by a west precinct officer who had a key. The car had just been unloaded by the 146

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tow truck and no one had gone near it yet. Robbie stared at it critically looking for any trace of blood on the trunk. Not a thing. No hand prints, nothing. "I smell it," he said.

The other two agents began sniffing.

"We need to pop it open," Agent Green said, then walked into an open door and shouted out for someone to help them.

Soon Agent Green emerged with a screw driver. He punched the lock and pried it open.

A black garbage bag was inside. "He's in there. Let's wait for the lab," Robbie said, "No use screwing up the evidence."

Immediately Agent Skinner covered his nose. "Christ. How do we know it's the latest victim and not another one?"

"We don't." Robbie found his cell phone and dialed. "Yes, this is Agent Taylor with the FBI. Can I speak to someone from the Washington State Crime lab, please? Yes, I can hold." He moved back to the driver's door and for the first time noticed a bullet hole in it. Rubbing his shoulder as if the sight of it renewed its ache, he was connected finally to the lab and said, "Yes, Agent Taylor here, can you send someone to the vehicle holding area ASAP? We've got a body in the trunk and we want to verify it's our latest victim without disturbing the evidence. Yes. That would be fine. Thank you."

He hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

"They on their way?" Agent Green asked.

"Yeah, their ETA is five." Robbie walked closer to the trunk again and tried to make out if any other items were in it besides the body bag.

In the silence of the cool cement garage, Robbie struggled to piece more of the puzzle together. Finally Agent Green 147

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asked him, "Why didn't they put you on this case in either San Francisco or Portland? Why the hell did they wait so long to assign you?"

Robbie raised his dark lashes to him and smiled. "Why do you ask?"

Uncharacteristically turning shy, Agent Green said in a low voice, "Because you're onto this bastard. I just can't help but think you could have done this in California and we'd not be standing here right now."

Grinning at the compliment, Robbie glanced over at Agent Skinner first to see his reaction, then answered Agent Green calmly, "The Deputy Director needed convincing. I offered to go after the first three murders in San Francisco were linked.

No one seemed interested. I tried, gentlemen, I tried."

The door swung open and three men in white suits appeared with huge metal kits. A stretcher was wheeled out by the coroner as he too wore a bio-hazard suit. Standing back, Robbie watched as the bag was photographed and dusted for prints first, then a sheet was laid down on the cement and very delicately the body was lifted out of the trunk. One of the men from the crime lab inspected the knot in the plastic bag, then cut an area below it to open it. A waft of putrid air filled the room. The bag was sliced down the side efficiently, and the contents exposed. The chest cavity was empty.

"Looks like our boy. But we'll need DNA to make a positive match with all his organs at the scene," Robbie said.

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The sheet was raised and the body was set on the gurney to be brought in for an autopsy. The interior of the trunk was now inspected. Nothing was in it. Not even a spare tire.

* * * *

Dave finished writing up the report. They were all exactly the same except for the victim's information. In some sick part of his mind he imagined printing up several more copies, just leaving those lines blank. But that was tempting fate. He didn't want any more killing. Enough!

Once again he handed the paperwork in to the appropriate boxes and then went to the locker room to wash his face and hands and relieve himself. When he had finished and was adjusting his gun belt in the mirror, another officer entered and headed to the toilets. "Oh. Hey, Dave. You okay?"

"Hey, Eric. Yeah, I'm okay."

"Another bad one? I'm glad I never got dispatched to one.

I'd most likely throw up like the other two on relief did."

"Yeah, it was a bad one. He left all the organs around the place and took the torso away. The FBI thinks he stashed it in the trunk of his car. They're checking on it now."

"Oh, yeah ... someone said you were with the agent when he was shot."

"No. I wasn't with him. I just took him to Harbor-zoo."

"Was he hurt bad?"

"No. The bullet just grazed his shoulder. He's damn lucky."

Dave felt that icy pit in his stomach from the worry.

"Oh, lucky break. This nut case must know he knows who he is. He keeps going after him."

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"Yeah. He knows."

"Oh, well, gotta pee. Catch you out there."

"Right." He waved to him as he closed himself into a stall, then headed back out to the write-up room to see if he left anything behind.

* * * *

By seven p.m., Robbie was home. Taking off his jacket, then his holster and shirt gently, he set everything down and walked to the bathroom mirror to see what the hell his shoulder looked like. Peeling the adhesive tape back, he peeked under the gauze and cursed at the damage. "You mother fucker..." An enormous bruise had come up under the angry open flesh. Swollen and raw from the hot bullet, the area was seeping and puss-covered. He patched the tape back up and stood still a moment trying to recuperate from the anger and fear of how close it had come to his heart. A few inches to the left and it would have been a bull's eye. If he hadn't moved to look into the driver's window at that moment, he'd be dead.

Swallowing some black water in his throat at the dread, he then dropped his trousers down and started the bath. With the ache in his shoulder still acute he shouldn't get it wet just yet, that much he knew.

An hour later he was in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeve button-down shirt, loosely fitted to give the bandage room to breathe. With a scotch in his hand, he stared out at the rain clouds as they opened up on the downtown skyscrapers and the view beyond them to the Sound.

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When someone knocked on his door he immediately grew alarmed. Why hadn't they used the downstairs intercom?

Maybe it was John or Frank coming to see how he was. He peered out the peep hole and then sighed happily.

"Hey."

"Hey, David. Come in. I forgot I gave you the garage door opener and a key to the building." He closed the door and gestured for him to come inside.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Should I have called you first?" Dave set his waist pack down and then followed him to the couch.

"Naaa. Get yourself a beer," Robbie said as he sat back down on the leather couch.