The Anniversary Man (43 page)

Costello sat to Irving′s right, and it was he who spoke first.

′This is Detective Ray Irving of the Fourth Precinct Homicide Division. And this,′ he added, indicating Karen Langley to Irving′s left, ′is Karen Langley, the senior crime correspondent for the City Herald . . . and as I said when I called you all, we need your help with something.′

Baumann leaned forward, cleared his throat, and addressed Irving. ′I′m willing to do whatever I can, Detective, but I can only give you half an hour of my time at the moment.′ He glanced at his watch. ′Obviously, if this is a longer term thing then I′m sure—′

Irving smiled. ′Frankly, Mr Baumann, I have less time than you today. This is something very straightforward, and you′ll either be able to shed some light on it or not, but before I explain the situation, I want to make it very clear that there must be an understanding here. Whatever we discuss stays inside this room—′

′I don′t think you should have any concern whatever about that,′ Alison Cotten said. ′Because of our personal circumstances, we′re precisely the kind of people who do not, and would not, want to draw attention to ourselves.′ She smiled patiently, as if she knew things that Irving could never begin to comprehend.

′I didn′t mean to imply that—′

′Let′s cut to the chase, eh, Detective?′ Curtis said. ′How do you think we might be able to help you?′

Irving started talking. He went back to Mia Grant, right back to the beginning as he knew it, and summarized the nature of the case. He spoke of the replica killings, the Shawcross letter, the use of the Zodiac code, and then he produced the latest letter that had been mailed to The Times and held it up for them to see. After a moment or two he passed it to Costello, who gave it to Barbara Floyd. Each of them studied the letter in turn, read back through it, consulted with one another. Irving let them be, watched as they asked and answered questions of each other, as suggestions were made, and it was only when Eugene Baumann slid the letter back toward him that he realized they had come to some sort of conclusive viewpoint.

′It means nothing,′ Baumann said. ′It makes no real sense. The only hookers were the Carol-Anne girl you spoke of, and the other girl in Central Park. The teenage girls weren′t prostitutes, right?′

′Right,′ Irving replied.

′Seems that the only significant element here is the threat itself, that he will kill six more people if you don′t get this printed in the newspaper, and in my opinion . . .′ Baumann paused and looked at the other members of the Winterbourne group.

′It makes sense,′ Rebecca Holzman said. ′As far as the date is concerned, you know?′ She smiled. ′Richard Segretti could be a help to us right now. He knew everything there was to know about this.′

Irving frowned.

′He was a member of the group some while ago,′ Baumann said, ′but as far as I know he moved out of New York.′

′It′s DeFeo, isn′t it?′ Costello suddenly interjected.

Baumann smiled. ′You didn′t need us here, did you?′ he said. ′You have Costello.′ He started to rise from his chair.

′What?′ Irving said, the sense of agitation evident in his voice. ′What do you mean, DeFeo?′

′Tell him,′ Costello said to Curtis.

′The DeFeo killings,′ Curtis said. ′November 13th, 1974, the anniversary of which is just over a week from now.′

Costello turned and looked at Irving. ′You ever hear of a movie called The Amityville Horror?′

′Sure,′ Irving said. ′I′ve seen it.′

′That was based on a book written in the seventies,′ George Curtis said. ′Supposed to be about paranormal phenomena witnessed by the family who moved into one-twelve Ocean Drive after the DeFeo killings. The parents were murdered, Ronald and Louise DeFeo, and four of their kids. Dawn, Allison, Marc and John. Ronald junior was the eldest, and he was . . . well, he was convicted of their murders.′

′You sound uncertain,′ Irving said.

′There were inconsistencies,′ Curtis said. ′The eldest girl, Dawn, was eighteen years old. Firearm discharge residue was found on her night-gown, which indicated she might have held and fired a gun herself, and there were other things too . . . but Ronald DeFeo was convicted of six counts of second-degree. He was given six consecutive twenty-five-to-life terms. He′s up in Green Haven, right, John?′

Costello nodded. ′Yes, Green Haven Correctional in Beekman.′

′Family was all killed with a 35-caliber Marlin rifle,′ Baumann said. ′Speed with which it was done, the fact that the weapon wasn′t silenced, and the way the bodies were found . . . all face down, none of them tied up, none of them sedated, and right to the last one it looked like the sound of the gun going off didn′t wake any of them . . . all these things were inconsistencies in the original case.′

′Yet DeFeo was convicted,′ Costello said. ′He′s made numerous pleas for parole but all of them have been declined.′

′So is that what we′re dealing with here?′ Irving asked.

′Only thing that rings true,′ Curtis said. ′He rants about hookers, but his victims have primarily been teenagers, boys and girls. Only two of the ten have actually been prostitutes.′

Irving looked at the letter once again, unable to ignore a sense of impending horror at what was happening. And it was his case, ultimately his responsibility alone, to direct, decide, delegate and act.

The Anniversary Man had promised another six killings and, if past experience was anything to go by, he seemed to have no great difficulty in keeping his word.

Fifteen minutes later the meeting disbanded.

Irving and Langley, Costello beside them, thanked each of the five as they left.

The last one to leave was Eugene Baumann, who paused for a moment and leaned close to Irving.

′I was attacked in 1989,′ he said. ′I spent four months in a coma, and while I was getting ready to die my wife had an affair with a much younger man. Last week I had a medical check. Doctor said I was healthier than I′ve ever been. My wife, however, has a very serious heart condition and might not make Christmas. What I went through taught me something very valuable. Taught me that the only real failure was to give up fighting. Cliched sure, but what the hell eh?′ He smiled warmly, gripped Irving′s hand. ′You call me if there′s anything I can do. John knows how to reach me. I might be a little crazy, but what the hell, if there′s something I can do I′ll do it.′

Irving thanked him, saw him to the door and closed it firmly behind him.

′I′ve got to get back to the office,′ he said. ′I′ll drop you off at the Herald.′

′Go,′ Karen said. ′We′ll get a cab.′

Irving reached out, held her hand for a moment, squeezed it reassuringly.

He nodded an acknowledgement to Costello, and then he too left the hotel room and hurried out to his car.

F
arraday shook his head slowly and dropped into his chair. ′Jesus,′ he exhaled. ′Jesus God almighty . . .′

′It′s the only line to follow,′ Irving said. ′Seriously, I don′t see any other way to do this—′

′You have even the slightest idea of the kind of manpower something like this would take?′

′No,′ Irving said, ′and I don′t think there′s any way of determining that until we know how many families we′re dealing with.′

′So where was this place?′

′Amityville? It was - is - on Long Island.′

′And you think this will happen somewhere within the New York City limits?′

′Every killing we know of has occurred within the city limits. He′s not sticking to the original locations, just replicating the killings themselves, and I think this won′t be any different. He′ll kill a family of six, precisely the same way, and it will be somewhere relatively close.′

′Okay,′ Farraday said, suddenly cognizant of the fact that in the absence of anything else this was at least action as opposed to inaction. ′Speak to city records, the electoral registry . . . I′ll get the Chief briefed and see if we can′t get some help from the FBI on collating some sort of database . . . go for having some kind of complete list within twenty-four hours. Agreed?′

′Agreed.′

 

It didn′t take twenty-four hours. It took closer to ninety-six. The better part of four days, and still Ray Irving believed that there was no way to compile a concise and definitive list of all six-member families with teenage children, or younger, within the New York city limits. People moved, people got divorced; sometimes where there were two adults and four kids, they would suddenly find that one of the kids had moved to another state. One family had lost three members in a car crash only the previous month. The records office was involved, and the staff at the New York State Electoral Registry, and Ellmann secured the services of four federal agents in a supervisory capacity. They couldn′t employ their own database because the Anniversary killings were not a federal matter. Federal could only investigate espionage, sabotage, kidnapping, bank robbery, drug-trafficking, terrorism, civil rights violations and governmental fraud. However, the agents were good men, hardworking, and they instigated a cross-checking system that reconciled one database with another, eliminated duplicate names and addresses, narrowed the thing down, narrowed it down again, and put some sense of order into the operation. Without them Irving would have been lost.

Still, by early evening of Saturday the 4th of November, despite the fact that they had managed to compile a list of five hundred and forty-two extant six-member families within the city limits, everyone engaged in the project knew that there was no way to determine whether they had covered all bases. The list was as complete as it ever would be. It spanned the entirety of New York City, and Irving and Farraday, back of them the Chief of Police and the Mayor′s office, carried the responsibility of alerting these people to the risk that now appeared to face them. Or not. They couldn′t be one hundred percent sure. But, as Irving kept repeating to himself, any course of action, no matter how poorly executed, was better than passively waiting. Ellmann held firm to his decision regarding the newspapers. Nothing would be printed.

′Eleven years ago there was something similar,′ he told Farraday. ′Before my time as chief, but something my predecessor will all too willingly talk about. Guy had lost his wife and child in some hospital fuck-up. She died in labor, the baby with her, and he was up for taking it out on the medical profession. The same kind of deal as this one, a threat that if something wasn′t printed in the newspapers he would go on some sort of revenge thing against doctors. So they printed the warning in some newspaper, and doctors started carrying handguns. In the subsequent couple of weeks there were eleven unlawful shootings by doctors. Doctors were playing vigilante, you know? And at least half a dozen innocent people got seriously hurt. That is not something I intend to have happen again.′

Farraday relayed this to Irving, and Irving - sitting at his desk in the incident room, exhausted beyond anything he′d experienced before - understood and appreciated Ellmann′s point of view, his concern also, but he was still faced with the prospect of co-ordinating the task of alerting five hundred and forty-two families to the potential risk they could face in nine days′ time.

′We do everything we possibly can,′ Farraday said. ′We have authorization to divide these families up between all relevant precincts. We′re gonna use the black-and-whites to go out and see these people on their routine circuits. Somehow, someway, we′re gonna reach every one of them, talk to the head of the household, brief them on what we have so that they′ll be alert to the fact that if something untoward occurs on the night of the thirteenth, the matter will be treated as a priority.′

′This is some operation,′ Irving said.

′It′s massive,′ Farraday said. ′Biggest single action I′ve ever seen for one case, but we′re doing everything we can. I know how hard you′ve been working on this, and—′

′And we could still have missed one family, or six, or twelve . . . seriously, Captain, I don′t know that there is any way to isolate every single family that could fall within this demographic. What if he′s got a four-member family in sight, but he knows that on the night of the thirteenth grandma and grandpa are gonna come over and stay for a few days—′

′Ray . . . enough already. Hold up there. You′ve done everything you can. This thing is gonna roll out exactly as we′ve planned. These people will be contacted. They may decide to leave the city for a while—′

′And what if we′ve got it wrong completely? What if it′s nothing whatsoever to do with the killings that occurred back in ′74?′

′Ray, I need you to do something for me.′

Irving looked up.

′I really need you to go home and get some sleep. I′m not talking about two or three hours with your head on your desk. I need you in better shape than this. I need you to go back home and actually go to bed. Lie down, you know? Actually lie down in a damned bed and get seven, eight hours sleep. I need you to do that, okay?′

′But—′ ′Go,′ Farraday said emphatically. ′I′m ordering you to go and you will go.′ He stood up. ′We′ll meet tomorrow morning.′

Farraday crossed the room to the door. ′I′m sending someone back here in fifteen minutes to make sure that you′ve left the building.′

Irving smiled. ′I′m going,′ he said. ′I′m already on my way.′

 

En route home Irving stopped at Carnegie′s. It seemed an age since he′d sat in his corner booth, drinking coffee and making small talk with the waitress. He ate as much of an omelette as he could, but his appetite was poor, had been slipping for days, and he knew that Farraday was right. Sleep was required. And he needed to speak with Costello, also with Karen Langley. Of all people, they perhaps better understood the situation he was in, the days that lay ahead. He didn′t want sympathy, that least of all; it was simply the need to be around those who understood what was happening. These people had become his friends. That was the truth of it. In their own way they were doing all they could to make a difference, and that was a rare and extraordinary commodity among people. Most people were oblivious, or didn′t care, or did all they could to convince themselves that the hard angles of the world would never reach them—