The Primal Connection (20 page)

“The mayor has given me the job of riding herd over this case. I will be coordinating you, the FBI and the police. You answer to me, Mr. Bridger. No one else.”

“Fine.” With that, Terry stood and started for the door.

Crane stopped him.

“Mr. Bridger. I noticed you haven’t said how much your services are going to cost us.”

Terry turned and looked back at him. “You’re right, I haven’t. Because I have no idea what this is going to take. Just so you know, though, this isn’t Lester, Montana. I expect to be paid in accordance to that.”

Benin chuckled again. “A little usury, Bridger?”

“Not at all,” Terry replied. “I just need to get from those that got. If I were working for the FBI, a good case and I could retire.”

Benin’s face went hard again.

He sneered, “As if you could get a job with a real investigative organization.”

Terry smiled at him. “Why not? You did, and your only claim to fame is being an asshole.”

Benin glared openly as Crane stepped in once again. “Decker will be your escort while you are here, just to keep you on the mark.”

Surprisingly, Terry was all for it. “Great. I’m not too familiar with the town. A guide is just what I need.”

Before anyone could muster a comment, Terry turned and headed to the door. It was best to leave before they began asking other questions. Not that he planned to answer them. Decker fell in behind him, silent until they were out of the hall. Even he wasn’t sure whether or not Crane or even the mayor had bugged the hall. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility with either of them.

Once they were out, he followed Terry to the elevator. Terry had still said nothing until they left the building. He, though, had no ambiguity as to why.

Thanks to Charlie, he knew that the hall was bugged. He had found the program in the computer, although there was no hint as to whether or not Crane had put it there. Personally, he was betting on the mayor. Crane had already listed him as a control freak. This would just be the embodiment of that desire for control.

Once they had made it outside, Terry looked up at Decker. He was a big man. He could be an asset if it came down to it, but since he was not one of the occupied, Terry would have to rely on old-fashioned conversation to feel the man out.

Terry headed for his car.

Decker brightened a little, seeing a way of trying to adjust to this new partnership.

Looking at the little car, he told Terry, “Rental, right? I can get you a car from the motor pool so you can send this thing back. Save you a few bucks that way.”

Terry grinned at the idea. “Nah. I figure nobody’ll pay much attention to a guy driving a Corolla. Might be the edge we need.

Decker gave a facial shrug. It made sense in a way. Nobody watches a guy in an economy car. Fortunately, the car was just big enough for Decker to squeeze into.

Terry looked up at him and laughed. He looked anything but comfortable.

Decker grinned back sheepishly saying, “If you want, we can put you up at the Hilton on the city’s dime. I can slip it onto my own expense account and none of the big boys will ever know.”

Terry thought about it for a minute then declined. He didn’t like the idea of being that accessible. Or of taking payment before he had accomplished anything.

Decker sat quietly for a few minutes. He was still trying to figure Terry out. From what he had heard from Smyth, he was his own brand of tough and a damn good investigator, although, according to Smyth again, Benin thought he was a fake and a con artist, but having met him, he wasn’t impressed by Benin’s opinion. The main thing Decker wanted was to get this over, and if this guy could help, he was all for it.

Suddenly, Terry said out of the blue, “Where was this last killing?”

Anxious to help, Decker said, “Right down by the Sears, I mean the Willis Tower. There were two of them.”

“I know, I read the report. Both of them were about your size. Kinda hard to see how one guy could take ‘em both out so fast neither of them got to holler.”

“Yeah, but you should know, size isn’t everything.”

Terry knew he was referencing their earlier encounter. He let it pass unanswered.

“Point is if this guy we’re after is that good, we could be up against it for real.”

Decker nodded. “We have been since the beginning. And if you wanna hear the truth, the mayor is about as useless as tits on a boar. Crane is the brains behind the office these days.”

“What about Finch? I thought he was the mayor’s top aide?”

“Oh, he is! But the boys uptown put the blame on Crane whenever something goes wrong. They want answers, they ask the mayor. And Finch. But when they want something done, they
listen
to Crane.”

Terry shook his head. “Sounds like a lot of heads in the stew.” Seeing Decker’s confusion, he added. “Old saying I used to hear when I was a kid. Catfish stew was all right if you had a few heads in it, but if you were too poor, it was all heads. You got a lot of bosses to answer to.”

Decker looked shocked then snickered. “Are you kidding me? If they knew I knew as much as I do, they’d have my ass. It just comes in handy to know which way the wind is blowing from.”

“So, why are you telling me all this?” Terry was genuinely curious.

Decker made a clucking sound. After a minute, he said, “The mayor is a joke, like I said. But he
is
easy to control. Crane and Smyth think you can do some good. Benin, though, wants you to fall on your face according to what I got from Smyth.”

“Now, there’s a newsflash.”

“Okay, fair enough. But, while he’s trying to trip you up and the mayor is trying to cover his ass, people are getting killed out here. I doubt the mayor or any of his aides ever rode in a cab, but I have. My uncle was a cabbie when I was a kid. They aren’t all great, but they are good people. And nobody deserves what this clown is doing to them. We got good police here. Good detectives. But they can’t stop him. I don’t know why, but they can’t. I just want to go home and not worry about this shit anymore. If you can do that, you’re aces in my book and I owe you one. Smyth had his shot, and he got nowhere. Now, Benin shows up and he thinks he knows all the answers. But people are dying out here.
Here
!”

He waved his arm excitedly at the street. “I came from these streets. They’re bad enough normally. We don’t need this kinda shit. So, if you can stop him, do it! I got friends on the force. My dad used to be a cop. The mayor wants you off the grid, but the reality is
I
want this shit stopped. And if you can do it, let’s get to it.”

Terry didn’t know what to say. A couple of hours ago, when he met Decker, his first thought was he had just made another enemy. Now, it seemed he had a friend. Or at least an ally.

He shook his head. Maybe there was more to this town than he thought. Traci and this guy both seemed to love it without reservation. Either way, he decided whoever this guy was, he had to go. And go soon.

Out loud, he simply asked with a smile. “So, where’s a good place for lunch?”

Decker grinned, showing the expected massive teeth.

“Know a great place. You like Italian?”

Terry and Decker slipped quietly into a little café near the scene of the last murders. Whether or not it was a coincidence that it was so close, Terry couldn’t say, but the food was excellent and the service was good, so he had no complaints.

They had just finished eating when Decker’s phone went off.

“Decker.”

Terry could see his forehead wrinkle. Whatever it was, it was something that concerned or perplexed him. Or both.

Decker sat listening for a couple of minutes then said quietly, “All right, I’ll be there in a few. Have Rich keep the guy on ice until I get there. And for God’s sake, don’t let anyone see him. Meantime, have the info on this clown sent to the strike team and see what they can come up with. Keep me posted.”

The phone slid into a pocket with a quick and well-practiced move. Something about the look on his face said it was something that he’d run across before. And the memory wasn’t exactly a good one.

“You must lead a charmed life, Bridger. You show up, the techs finally managed to get enough pixels or whatever they needed to get a picture of a guy at the tower, then we get the first witness we’ve had on this thing.”

Terry’s mouth dropped open. “Witness?”

Decker nodded as he said, “Yeah. Says he saw something when the woman cabbie was killed.”

“And it took him this long to come forward?”

“He says he was scared.”

“Why? Did the guy see him?”

“Not really sure. He just walked into the police station and said he needed to talk to somebody. The desk sergeant knew a little about what’s really going on and gave my office a call. Right now, they slipped him out the back and got him on ice at one of the mayor’s…
safe
houses
down by the train station.”

“And this picture?”

Decker grinned proudly. “They found the right angle on a traffic camera. Got a rough picture of a guy in the area at the same time as Jones and this Moore chick. If he isn’t involved, maybe he can tell us something.”

“Hey, Momma always said I was better than a rabbit’s foot. But who the hell are Jones and Moore?”

Decker grinned even harder. “They were the ones that found the last guys that were attacked. They’re in another of the mayor’s safe houses.”

Terry took the term safe house for what it was worth. He was sure it was a double entendre, but he didn’t care about that right now. All he wanted was whatever these people knew.

“So, what do they say?”

“The first two been there a while. They aren’t saying much other than the woman hollering about being locked down. We’ll get to them later.”

Decker scratched his chin, trying to remember if he had shaved this morning. He was stalling. He didn’t know Bridger well enough to know how he would take this.

“The other guy is a Haitian,” he started quietly. “He’s been here most of his life they say. Used to be a steel worker in Pittsburgh way back when, but when the shit went bad there, it went real bad for him. His wife left him. His kid got killed in car wreck, and he went downhill from there.”

Terry looked at Decker curiously. “You know this guy?”

“Hell, man, everybody that works downtown knows him. They call him
Chans
. Means luck in Creole. Real name is Charles St. Pierre. He does the cans and other trash to make a little money, but as far as I know, no one has ever seen him beg. Still thinks things are gonna get better. That’s why he calls himself Chans. Trying to draw in some luck, I guess.”

Terry nodded. He knew the type. What he didn’t know was why he wound up in virtual protective custody. And he asked Decker as much.

To his surprise, Decker ran his hand over the back of his neck and looked as if he’d rather be somewhere else. When he answered, it was like he really didn’t want to be heard.

“He’s an old guy. Been here most of his life but not all of it, like I said. He grew up for the most part in Haiti. Along with all the shit they grow up with down there.”

Now, Terry looked confused.

Decker suddenly found himself tired of trying to soften what even he didn’t understand, so he just came out with it.

“He says he saw the guy coming around the corner from the street where she was found. Says the guy wasn’t in a hurry, just kind of shuffling along. He was sitting behind a dumpster resting before he finished his rounds. The guy walked right past not fifteen feet from him. His eyes aren’t too good, but he says he’ll never forget this guy’s face.”

Seeing no change in Terry’s expression, he finally gave up and came right out with it.

“He says he’ll never forget what the guy looked like. Bad eyes or no, he says he saw enough to recognize him anyplace. He says he was a zombie.”

Terry looked at Decker as if he was kidding. This had to be a joke. But the look in Decker’s eyes was as serious as everything else about this. Terry stifled a laugh and took a deep breath.

“You’re serious? You actually believe he saw a zombie.”

Decker shook his head. “No, but he does. I know he’s old and tired and probably drinks more than his share of rotgut and, Lord knows with all the shit that’s happened to him, he’s got more than enough reason to be crazy. The problem is he’s not. Everything he told us about the scene checked out. He apparently went up to the car and found her first. One of the reasons he didn’t want to come forward was that he figured if he knew too much, we’d figure he had something to do with it.”

“And the reason you don’t is?”

Decker smiled, even laughed a little as he answered. “Simple logic. This shit happens at night. Usually late at night or early in the morning. Most nights, he spends in a shelter somewhere. And like I said, everybody knows Chans. Broke he might be, but honest he is. And he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Besides, with his arthritis, I doubt he could hold a knife, let alone make the kind of cuts we found on the victims.”

Terry knew nothing about this Chans, but he was beginning to learn a little about Decker. He wasn’t just a security chief. This was his home. He knew these people. He was almost afraid to ask if he had actually known any of the victims, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. Either way, he was taking this personally.

Terry went for his wallet, but Decker waved him off. “My tab needs the exercise. Besides, we get this fucker and I’ll buy you dinner at Cirroco’s.”

Terry had no idea what that was, but it sounded expensive. The two of them nearly ran to Terry’s car. At the last minute, Terry pulled up short, handing the keys to Decker.

“Here. You know where we’re going.”

Decker looked at the key then the car. He shook his head as if to say how the hell do I drive this little bastard, but he crammed himself in behind the wheel, and with a little wriggling and a lot of adjusting and cussing, he managed to get under the wheel. Getting out would be another matter.

Terry had another reason. Since he had given Charlie the shot at the computer, he hadn’t heard a peep out of him. It wasn’t unexpected. That kind of thing could take a lot out of him.