Wake the Devil (22 page)

She felt him nod in the darkness and knew her words had no effect. Of course he wanted to protect her, and she loved him for it. But his senses of remorse and guilt were so deeply ingrained, it would take a miracle to make him see what was so apparent to everyone else. It hurt her to hear him talk that way. She’d give her right arm to find some way to loose the gargoyle’s talons affixed to his neck and free him from the pain he was in.

Beth held him tighter, as if by doing so she could shield him from the nightmare that usually followed one of his attacks. Waiting in the dark, she was ready to fight the demons. Eventually his breathing became regular and she felt his body relax. Beth closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Two Days to the Grand Jury

I
n the morning, she awoke to sunlight streaming through the window, a robin’s-egg sky, and the sight of a dozen red roses in a green vase on the dresser. But no Jack. The light was off in the bathroom and the room was deserted. The sun had already burned the shadows away. He’d obviously gotten up early and stepped out. Thankfully, the expected nightmare had failed to make an appearance. She was about to get up and check her phone when she heard someone at the door. It opened and her new fiancé came in holding two paper bags.

“Good morning. I have cappuccino, a latte, and bagels. Lady’s choice.”

Beth held her arms open for him. “The hotel didn’t mind you bringing that in?”

“There are two schools of thought on that. The receptionist seemed disdainful, but the bellman gave me a thumbs up. Eighteen dollars versus sixty-eight for room service.”

“My hero,” Beth said. “Put the difference toward our honeymoon.”

Jack blinked. Things were certainly moving along quickly. They hadn’t been engaged forty-eight hours and she was already thinking honeymoon. Not unreasonable. It simply took some getting used to. Beth Sturgis took some getting used to. In their second meeting, she had virtually snatched him from the front of his house to help with a case. He smiled. That association had grown into something special. As far as he was concerned, they could stay in this room for the next month. They just needed the Sandman to cooperate.

Their hug might have developed into something even more pleasant but for a knock on the door causing Beth to duck under the
covers. It was the hotel valet returning her clothes. Jack signed the bill and tipped him. If they didn’t get out of there soon, they wouldn’t be able to afford a honeymoon.

Once the valet was gone, Beth tossed the covers aside and began getting dressed. Jack moved to a chair by the window and picked up a magazine. Distracted, he spent more time surreptitiously watching her than reading. He loved the way she moved and the curves on her body. She’d gotten as far as her undergarments and was in the process of putting some lotion on her legs when she noticed his interest.

“What are you looking at?”

“Checking for concealed weapons, ma’am.”

Beth giggled. “Down, boy. Ray Price will be here in a little while.”

“I was being subtle about it.”

“Extremely.”

The cap on the lotion bottle chose that moment to slip through her fingers and onto the floor. Beth bent from the waist to pick it up.

“Uh . . . I’m going for a walk,” Jack said. His voice suddenly sounded slightly hoarse.

She was still smiling as the door closed.

*

Rachel rang their room to tell them the plane would be ready at two o’clock. She informed Beth she had also told Dwayne Stafford. Beth used the hotel phone to update Ray Price. He told her he had spoken with the hotel management, who agreed to move all other guests off the end of the floor where their rooms were located. That would help a great deal because it meant less people coming and going.

When Jack returned from his walk, she passed on the news that they were stuck for a few more hours, and that Ray Price and Dwayne seemed to have the security situation under control.

“Wonderful,” he said, slipping his arms around her waist. “Perhaps we can put the time to good use and . . . ah, discuss police procedure.”

“Honey, I just got dressed.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped.

“I’ll make it up to you back in Atlanta. Promise,” Beth said.

“Sure, give ’em a ring and it’s all over,” Jack muttered.

“Don’t pout. Take me for a walk.”

“But I just went . . . never mind. Ready when you are, dear.”

Their stroll up Fifth Avenue was a welcome respite from the case. Stores had holiday displays in their windows and people on the crowded sidewalk seemed to share in the sense the holidays were upon them. Beth slipped an arm through his and squeezed.

Coming to New York always took some getting used to. The city had an energy unlike anyplace he’d ever visited. There was so much culture in its museums, libraries, galleries, theatres, and concerts he always had a vague sense of guilt just walking the streets and sightseeing. It felt like he should enroll in an adult education course and learn a new language, or study postmodernist art, or learn to make his own pasta. The city had a way of stimulating some hidden brain cells that governed self-improvement as soon as he crossed its rivers.

Beth seemed quite at home and began a running commentary on its attractions, pointing out Rockefeller Center, the statue of Atlas holding up the world, Tiffany’s, Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, Saks Fifth Avenue, and the Forty-Second-Street library before they turned back.

“Despite all the craziness of the last three days, I’m really happy,” she said.

Jack smiled at her. “Me, too.”

When they initially passed Saint Thomas Church a few blocks south of the hotel, she slowed and came to a halt. Sitting on a thin wool blanket against the wall was a blind man and his dog. Alongside him was a little tin bucket passersby occasionally tossed coins into. Beth took five dollars from her purse and made her own contribution. Tempted to follow suit, Jack sensed what she was doing was somehow personal and stayed where he was.

“That was nice of you,” he commented as they continued walking.

After a half-block with no conversation, Beth said, “Being blind is terrible. Some people adapt better than others, but the truth is you’re frightened all the time.”

It was a strange thing to say. Jack looked at her and waited.

Another block went by before she spoke again. “When I was fourteen, I was blind for nearly two months.”

The revelation took him completely by surprise. “Was it an accident?”

“Depends on how you define an accident. I came home from school one day and found my sister hanging from the ceiling in our bedroom.”

“Jesus,” Jack said. Dan Pappas had told him the bones of this shortly after they first met on the last case. The information had been passed along by Beth’s original partner. She had never seen fit to share the details, possibly because they didn’t know each other well enough at the time. He figured she was entitled to her privacy and kept Pappas’s confidence.

Beth’s eyes seemed to dull over as if she was no longer standing on the street with him, but observing a distant memory replaying in her mind. “Cindy was two years younger than me and I knew she’d been having problems at school with a group of girls. Eventually they convinced a few boys to join in and started putting things on the Internet, really mean things. Kids can be terribly cruel if they want to.”

Jack said nothing.

“I went to them and told them to stop, which only made matters worse. My little sister was a quiet girl who had always been a little overweight, and that made her an easy target. She tried dieting and exercising. Nothing seemed to work. Later we found she’d been taking pills and purging. At night, I’d hear her crying. The poor kid was just miserable. I tried talking to her, but what do fourteen-year-olds know?

“I’ve seen some pretty bad things since I joined Homicide.” Beth shook her head. “There’s been nothing to compare with that, for me at least. When I saw her hanging there, I started to scream. A neighbor and his wife heard me and came running. They called my father and mother, who put me to bed. The next morning I woke up and couldn’t see.” Beth shrugged.

“Traumatic blindness,” Jack said quietly. It was an old outdated term but it applied.

“You once asked me why I react so strongly to bullies. I should have stopped those little bastards from turning my sister’s life into a living hell. We make quite a pair, don’t we, Kale?”

Jack stopped and took her face in his hands. “Quite a pair. But there’s no one I’d rather have than you.”

“Still want to marry me?”

Jack smiled and lifted his shoulders. “I guess.”

Beth punched him in the arm as they crossed to the opposite side of Fifth Avenue. On the way back, she slowed at the church once more. The blind man and his dog were gone. Jack remained quiet, assuming she was immersed in past events—something he seemed doomed to do himself. She stood there staring at the old church.

He was searching his mind to come up with what he hoped would be a comforting remark when Beth surprised him by asking what the church entrance was made of.

Jack studied it for a moment. “Brownstone and . . .
terra-cotta
.”

“Probably have marble inside, huh? I wonder if any churches in Atlanta are built the same?”

Another piece of the puzzle dropped into place.

*

At noon, Ray Price picked them up at the hotel accompanied by two SUVs filled with FBI agents. He informed them Milner had caught a commercial flight back to Atlanta earlier that morning to resume surveillance on Borov. The bad news was, there had been no sign of Thomas Courtney since Battery Park. Just when Jack thought things couldn’t get any worse, Price added that the commander of the
Eagle
had been discovered late the previous evening with his throat cut. With the exception of two cadets who reported seeing someone they thought was the commander leaving the ship, there were no witnesses. That had been an hour after the explosions. Neither cadet had been able to offer a description. Not surprising. It seemed clear the man they saw was the Sandman.

Jack asked Price to have his tech team go over the cabin thoroughly. The agent said he had already called them and briefed Janet Newton. The next part of his message came as no surprise. The deputy director wanted to meet with him when he returned. After some discussion, they decided to keep the latest news from Rachel Lawrence, as it would only upset her further. Good-byes were said and they boarded the plane.

Encouraged by Beth’s deduction, Jack made a mental list of the churches he knew that contained marble and terra-cotta on the flight back to Atlanta. There had to be dozens. But at least it was a starting
point. There was a good chance the Sandman was using one as a hideout.

On arrival at Charlie Brown Airport, two federal marshals met the plane and took Rachel into custody. There were now less than thirty-six hours until the grand jury met. Dwayne Stafford volunteered to stay with her.

One of the marshals handed Jack a package received from Quantico that morning. It contained six cellphones capable of scrambling their calls and encrypting their texts and e-mails. Supposedly, they were immune from Sergei Borov’s software. He hoped that was true, because they might be betting their lives on them.

W
hen they were in the car leaving the airport, Beth asked what Jack was hoping to find in the commander’s room.

“They call it a cabin.”

“What do you expect to find in the cabin?”

“Something that’s not supposed to be there.”

“I understand that, Jack. It’s obvious Courtney killed him. Is there something specific you have in mind, or do you just want me to guess and see if I come close?”

“More of those reddish grains. I’d like to compare them to what showed up at Gabe Alonso’s house and in his car.”

“That would just confirm Courtney killed them both.”

“Or not.”

His answer was cryptic and Beth didn’t quite get what he was talking about, but another thought occurred to her. “If we capture Courtney and convince him to talk, it would tie Borov to the murders, obstruction of justice, and conspiracy. That’s what Donofrio’s aiming for. Nobody will even remember the money laundering charge.”

Jack leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I have great taste in fiancées.”

*

After dropping her off at the station, Jack proceeded to the local FBI office in Century Center. When Price told him Janet Newton wanted to meet, he assumed it would involve a conference call with her and Todd Milner. He was surprised to find them both there. The gravity
of the situation was highlighted by her having flown in from Washington, DC. She had appropriated the SAC’s office, as Sally Yellen was out of town.

Janet, dressed in a black suit and a white silk blouse, began by saying, “Todd’s already explained what happened in New York. Thank God we didn’t lose anybody.”

“Except for a Coast Guard commander,” Jack said.

“You know what I mean. So far we’ve had no luck pinning Courtney down, Jack. I need a clear idea how you intend to proceed.”

“Fair enough. Before we left, I asked Ray Price to expand the search to include private charter flights coming out of the New York area. If the Sandman’s going to make another run at Rachel Lawrence, he’ll have to do it soon, because he’s almost out of time. The problem is we have a number of airports to cover and a lot of territory. Borov also has access to his own aircraft.”

“Speaking of that,” Milner said, “I’ve had the FAA pull the flight plans for his two jets. Interestingly, one of them was in New York the same day we were. Borov was here in Atlanta, but that doesn’t mean Courtney didn’t catch a ride.”

“Excellent,” Jack said. “Motive and opportunity never hurt.”

“But are we any closer to nailing the son of a bitch?” Janet asked.

“Maybe. We know his name and a fair amount of background on him, such as where he’s from and what his early life was like. It’s also clear he’s working with someone.”

The deputy director beat a rhythm on the desk with her pen for several seconds, then told him that really didn’t answer her question. She continued, “The White House and the Senate Intelligence Committee are all asking for daily reports. Is there
anything
we can give them?”

Jack noted the use of “we” rather than “I.” Janet had always been one of the good guys and a team player, but it was clear she was on the hot seat.

“I’ve told you where we are,” Jack said. “That’s an honest assessment.”

“Can you stop him?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that?”

“I’ll stop him. Capture is another matter, but I will stop him.”

The deputy director sat back and considered Jack Kale. She’d known him for years, and he was not given to boasting or unrealistic speculation, neither was he an egocentric individual. If he said he would stop the killer, he was stating what he perceived as fact. His confidence was reassuring, but the White House and Senate committee were interested in results. If that didn’t happen, it would be her head on the chopping block.

She said, “You were in visual contact with Courtney outside the hospital.”

“Correct.”

“Yet you chose not to take him there.”

“I did. He was scoping out the entrance and lobby. More important, he was waiting.”

“For what?”

“Exactly what took place. Someone pulled the fire alarm. When that happened, people began to evacuate the building. He’s used variations of that technique several times now in Spain, Israel, Germany, and here. He was waiting for the crowd to make his move. Fortunately, Beth Sturgis had the presence of mind to have Ray Price take Dr. Lawrence out through the doctors’ entrance rather than risk the street. I don’t think he was counting on Price and two detectives being there.”

Todd Milner commented, “I don’t either. That was a good call on both your parts.”

“Maybe,” Janet said.

“Our orders are to take the Sandman alive. If Courtney didn’t trip the alarm, someone else had to,” Milner said. “Jack and Beth did the right thing.”

Janet nodded, then said, “Price told me you want to set another trap for him. You think it’ll work this time?”

Jack outlined what he had in mind.

When he was finished, Milner said, “That’s putting the cops or agents at risk.”

Jack agreed it would. “We know Rachel Lawrence’s phones are compromised, but Courtney doesn’t know we’ve discovered that yet. If he believes he’s privy to our thinking, that should give us an edge.”

“Let’s try it,” the deputy director said. “Did you receive the secure phones?”

“They were passed out when we landed in Atlanta. I see Todd already has his.”

“If Borov’s technology falls into the wrong hands, it could be disastrous for the country. When will you put your plan into action, Jack?” Janet Newton said.

“No later than tomorrow morning.”

Janet stood, indicating the meeting was at an end. Todd Milner said good-bye and left to resume his surveillance on Sergei Borov. According to the wiretap, they were picking up bits and pieces of conversations that indicated Borov was in the final stages of negotiations with Hamas and al-Qaeda representatives. The situation was precarious.

Janet was quiet as she walked Jack to the elevator. When they reached the doors, she said, “I understand congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.”

“Beth seems like a good person.”

“She is.”

The deputy director brushed some lint from Jack’s shoulder, then said, “I hope you’ll both be happy.”

“Thanks, Janet.”

She searched his face for a moment and then nodded and walked back inside.