Part 11 (1/2)
”Oh, give it a rest,” Jane smiled pleasantly.
The old man's face was almost all skull by now. Only a few patches of skin and hair remained. He paused quizzically, with his mouth still stretched absurdly wide as his lower jaw had unhinged like a python swallowing its prey. He put his hands on his hips and looked around as if not sure what to do next.
”I know it's you, suns.h.i.+ne,” Jane said, still smiling. ”An NHS hospital ward with empty beds? Please.”
”You've grown so much stronger in such a short s.p.a.ce of time,” an admiring voice said, emanating from out of the old man's skull.
”Why don't you show me your real face and we can talk.”
”Don't push your luck,” the voice responded good-naturedly.
”I'm guessing that this isn't a social call?”
”This is our business, Jane ... our private business. You have no right to involve outsiders, and you should know better,” the voice echoed.
”I think that you might be on shaky grounds discussing just who has the right to do what, you know, considering that you're butchering people.” She was trying very hard to keep the conversation light, but given the circ.u.mstances it wasn't easy.
”You will see in time, Jane, that everything I do, I do it for you.”
”Wasn't that a cheesy Bryan Adams' song?”
Her attempt at humour was met with a stony silence.
”You shouldn't be aligning yourself with the police, Jane. It only makes things more difficult. I mean, how are you going to feel with another dead Meyers detective on your conscience?”
”f.u.c.k you!” she spat.
”Ah, there's my girl. So much pain in there, Jane - you reek of doubt and cowardice. But I'm going to change all of that, Jane. I'm going to watch the caterpillar blossom again into the beautiful b.u.t.terfly and every time that you flap your wings you will think of me.”
”I don't know who you are or why you're doing this, I can only think that you're nuts.” She felt him bristle at the insult. ”But I can promise you that I will find you and I will catch you.”
”Didn't you try that once before?” The voice laughed.
”Rather successfully, if I remember correctly.”
”Oh, really? Doesn't look like it from where I'm standing, or indeed where a new bunch of families are grieving.”
”Arthur Durage is dead.”
The voice stayed silent at that.
”What is it that you want from me?” she asked wearily.
”I want you in tiptop shape, Jane. I want you playing in the majors, going pro, and breaking all records.”
”Why?”
”Oh, now ... where's the fun if I just give you all the answers?”
”I will find you,” she stated with firm conviction.
”Janey, my dear, I'm counting on it.”
The voice left as quickly as it had arrived and Jane found herself sitting upright. A nurse hurried over with concern in her eyes after spying her through the room's window and Jane wondered what she must look like to the woman. She could feel her forehead caked in sweat and her armpits were sticky, making her pyjama top cling to her skin.
”Are you okay, dear?” the woman asked, worriedly.
Jane nodded and smiled broadly. ”Just a bad dream,” she said, knowing that it was nothing of the sort. ”Just a bad dream.”
”Holy s.h.i.+t, is that him?” DC Selleck said, in awed, hushed tones. ”This is just like the movies.”
Danny grimaced inwardly as Superintendent Chalmers trotted the FBI profiler around the office like a prized pony. ”b.u.t.ton it, Magnum,” he said out of the corner of his mouth and the young DC visibly wilted.
The office had been sealed off from the rest of the station as the smartly dressed American agent would have attracted too much attention. The man was tall at around six foot two or so, and he exuded supreme health and vitality. His hair was shortish with a sprinkling of silver amongst the chestnut brown and a side-parting sweep. Danny pegged him somewhere in his early forties and he carried himself with a natural air of confidence and authority. Even Landing had become uncharacteristically tongue-tied around the American, which was saying something. He had long labelled his sergeant as as.e.xual when it came to affairs of the heart as he had never known her to be in a relations.h.i.+p of any denomination.
”I'd like to introduce you all to Special Agent Tom Bradshaw,” Chalmers announced grandly to the room. ”He has graciously agreed to help us in the..., um Crucifier case.” The superintendant whispered the last bit as though afraid of being overheard.
Danny watched on as the agent remained impa.s.sive.
”Agent Bradshaw has a wealth of experience in such matters, and we are very lucky to have him here. I expect you all to afford him every courtesy and take advantage of his knowledge.”
”Thank you, Superintendant,” Bradshaw said when he was sure that Chalmers had finished. ”I do find it helpful to speak to the team in private,” he said to the senior officer in a quiet voice. ”I find that a superior officer such as yourself can often overshadow and dominate a room.”
Chalmers took the compliment as a genuine one and swaggered out of the room with a supercilious grin etched across his face. Bradshaw watched and waited until the superintendant had left the room. ”It would appear that a.s.sholes are a.s.sholes the world over,” he said, shaking his head to a rumbling of subdued laughter.
The man's accent was pure southern cowboy and Danny couldn't help but look for a Stetson and s.h.i.+ny badge. His suspicious mind couldn't help but wonder if the line was a well-used one to gain an 'in' with rooms such as this one, but it worked regardless and the rest of the team seemed to warm to him in that instant.
”First off, folks, apologies all round,” Bradshaw started. ”I am fully aware of the territorial nature of investigations and the last thing that I want to do is step on any toes. Regardless of why I'm here, I'm here now. In my experience, most suits like your boss are about as useful as t.i.ts on a bull, but one thing that your Superintendant Chalmers was right about is that I do have a lot of familiarity in cases such as this one. I am a resource to be used by you however you see fit.”
”Well, we are happy to have you aboard,” Danny offered pleasantly. ”I'm sure that you can only be an a.s.set. This is DC Bryan Wilson,” he pointed. ”He'll bring you up to speed on the investigation and where we are now.”
”And the older case?” Bradshaw asked.
Danny baulked a bit at that. The last thing that he wanted to do at the moment was to give any credence to a link between the cases, especially to an outsider. Both Barrett and Chalmers had made it crystal clear that the ”Crucifier” angle was to be buried by order of Alfonso Ramsey. He still found it hard to fathom just how a private citizen seemed able to dictate police procedure, but here they were dancing on strings. ”Perhaps a word in private, Agent Bradshaw?”
Danny led the man into his office and closed the door behind him. ”Have Chalmers or Barrett spoken to you about this case?”
”I have received instructions,” Bradshaw replied, which wasn't exactly a straight answer.
”Look. I don't know what you think your job is here, or who exactly you're working for, but this is my case, Bradshaw. Mine,” Danny growled.
”Danny, buddy, you've got me all wrong,” Bradshaw said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. ”I'm here to do my job, not yours. You've got a maniac on the loose and I can help you catch him. I don't give a d.a.m.n about the credit or the glory.”
”And where does Mr Ramsey figure in your presence here?”
”As I'm sure you're aware, Danny, Mr Ramsey is an influential man. I was lecturing at a conference in Amsterdam. By the way, did you know that they sell pot out in the open? You can just head into a cafe and no one bats an eyelid ... craziest d.a.m.n thing I ever saw.”