Nocturnal: A Novel

“He is,” Aggie said. “Bring me my boy or I’ll sue your asses.”

Pookie shook his head. “Child Protective Services has to verify the child’s identity.”

Aggie tried to sit up. He seemed surprised to find he could barely move his left hand. He looked at the handcuff holding him in place, then lurched so suddenly the bed rattled. “No! Don’t you chain me, don’t you chain me!”

Chain me. A strange way to describe a handcuff.

Aggie’s wide eyes stayed fixed on his restrained wrist. “Lemme go,” he said in a thin whisper. “Bring me the boy and lemme go.”

“We can’t,” Bryan said. “Mister James, tell me why you drew those pictures on the blanket.”

“I didn’t draw them. Lemme go, don’t chain me, please, lemme go before Hillary finds out I failed.”

Bryan looked at Pookie, who shrugged.

“Hillary,” Bryan said. “Is Hillary the baby’s mother?”

Aggie shook his head violently. His breathing grew more and more rapid. “Mommy is a monster.”

Bryan felt a cool sensation in his chest and stomach. The baby, the bum, monsters, they were all connected, all a part of Bryan’s past.

“A monster,” Bryan said. “That why you drew those pictures on the blanket? To save the baby from the monster?”

“I said I didn’t draw the pictures! Lemme go. Don’t let them take me back into the tunnels. Lemme go goddamit!”

Pookie leaned in. “Tunnels? Where? Tell us more.”

Aggie shook his head. “Don’t remember. Don’t take me back to the white room. Lemme go. Lemme go.”

The room door opened. Stuart Hood leaned in. “Guys, just letting you know I’m out of here. Dispatch said Zou is pulling all security from the hospital. I’m supposed to clear out right away.”

“Clear out?” Pookie said. “Who’s your relief?”

Hood shrugged. “Someone’s coming soon, I guess. I don’t know, man, I was told to get out of here pronto. The SWAT team is pulling out as well. Later.”

Hood shut the door, leaving Bryan and Pookie alone with Aggie James.

“Pooks, something is wrong.”

“Really? Was your first clue Zou wants to leave a child-napper unguarded, or was it that she put a friggin’ SWAT team on Erickson and now she thinks he’s fine and dandy on his own?”

Pookie’s cell phone rang. He looked at it, then held up the phone so Bryan could see the caller ID:

CHIEF AMY ZOU

Bryan nodded.

Pookie answered. “Good evening, Chief. What’s up?”

Pookie listened, nodded. “I see.” He listened some more. “Sounds nasty. No, actually, I don’t know where Bryan is, but I’ll find him and bring him. Yes, Chief. Okay.”

Pookie put the phone away. “Zou said there’s a third Handyman killing. Two bodies in the Fort Mason Tunnel.”

“I know that place,” Bryan said. It was an abandoned train tunnel cut under Fort Mason. It had been closed off and boarded up for years, but people still got in there all the time. No lights, no traffic — the perfect place to drag in a victim and do what you pleased. A new serial killer, a crime-scene location that made sense … yet it didn’t feel right. “Did she say if we were reinstated to active duty?”

Pookie shook his head. “She didn’t mention it.”

Two people in the SFGH complex were involved with Marie’s Children: Jebediah Erickson and Aggie James. Zou had suddenly ordered that they be left unguarded.

And it was dark outside. Dark, and getting darker.

“Pooks, I think Zou’s been compromised. That or she was setting this up all along.”

“You think Marie’s Children are coming?”

Bryan nodded. “Yeah, and fast. Got a handcuff key? We have to get Aggie out of here.”

Pookie nodded, produced a key from his pocket. Bryan unlocked Aggie’s handcuff from the bed frame. Aggie’s eyes seemed to light up, then fill with betrayal when Bryan clicked the open link on his own wrist.

“Get up, Mister James,” Bryan said. “Come with me if you want to live.”

Pookie helped the man out of the bed. “Where are you taking him?”

“I’ll lock him in Jessup’s car for now,” Bryan said. “I have to get something out of there. Can you get up to Erickson’s room?”

Pookie nodded. “Just hurry the hell back. I just made an executive decision — you can handle all the monster shit.”

Bryan put a hand around Aggie’s waist and guided the confused, weak man out into the hall.

Calling in the Troops

It’s about time, Chief,” Rich Verde said into the phone. “Media is sticking their nose all up in this one. Where have you been?”

“I … I don’t know.”

Her voice sounded strange, maybe a bit hoarse.

“Chief, you okay? What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Hold on a second.” He heard her sniff, clear her throat. Maybe she had the same bug that had knocked Clauser on his ass a few days ago.

Rich Verde remained just outside of the tarp. The Silver Eagle was in there, doing his thing with the bodies. Rich stared up at the pitch-black night sky. The tall pines surrounding the Handyman crime scene were actually a touch lighter than the dark sky above them, making him feel as if he were deep in the forest. Sometimes it was hard to remember Golden Gate Park was a swath of greenery in the middle of a major city — from here you couldn’t see a building, barely any lights, and the sounds of civilization were little more than a dull, distant buzz.

“Sorry,” Zou said. “There’s another Handyman murder. It’s pretty rough.”

Amy Zou, the unflappable rock, was shaken up by the third Handyman scene? Rich could only imagine what a Cleveland steamer of gore that had to be. “That bad?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Uh … is Doctor Metz still there?”

“Yeah. He’s finishing up. Robertson hasn’t bothered to show up, though.”

“I told Sean to come here,” she said. “And I need you and Metz here as well. Fort Mason Tunnel. Get here as fast as you can.”

Amy cleared her throat again. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. As far as Rich knew, Amy hadn’t cried since they’d found those two half-eaten kids in Golden Gate Park nearly three decades ago. But all this shit … it was too much. Rich closed his eyes and saw what he saw every time he did: the mental loop of that hatchet crunching through Bobby Pigeon’s shoulder and ribs, the look of fear on his young partner’s face.

“Chief, I think I got to take a pass this time. I just can’t deal with this anymore.”

She said nothing. He felt like a piece of shit. She had always counted on him. He had always delivered. But he was tapped out. He just couldn’t look at another butchered body.

“Rich, I need you here.”

He looked down, shook his head. She’d have to find someone else. “I can’t, Amy. I can’t.”

She coughed. She was crying.

“Just one more, Rich. I promise. Please. Just … just do this last thing for me.”

Amy Zou gave orders and people followed them. She rarely asked. She had to be as much on the edge as he was.

“Okay,” he said. “We’re on our way.”

He hung up.

Dr. Metz came out of the tent. He nodded at Rich.

“We’re all done here,” Metz said. “Same as usual. I’ll get these two back to the morgue and get to