Thorpe, and so I went to her. I see no problem with working around you if you are not interested in working with the military.”
“ AFIP, Doctor. Not the military. I have a great deal of respect for the military usually, but the AFIP tried once to ruin my father's reputation, and no, there's no love lost between us. As for cooperating, what were you doing in Iowa City, looking over my shoulder at that dead girl we had to exhume, knowing about this man Rosnich and not saying a word to me about it?”
“ Your attitude dictated my attitude, Dr. Coran.”
She soothed a bit. “How old would this Rosnich be now?”
“ Twenty-nine.”
“ The approximate age of our killer, possibly in Chicago, with some medical training. Christ, if a fingerprint or a blood sample links this man to the victims…” She allowed her thoughts to trail off. If O'Rourke got the killer, independent of Boutine, while Boutine was too involved with personal difficulties from being at his wife's bedside to burying her, O'Rourke would shine in Leamy's eyes. Otto had said there was some talk of his being forced into an early retirement, a rumor saying he was burned out. Had O'Rourke seen her chance and simply stepped into the breach, or had she started the rumors?
“ I want to see what photographs you have of Rosnich, and anything else you have on him,” she demanded of Kaseem.
“ Then we are finally working together?”
She felt her jaw tighten and her chin quiver. “Yes, if that's what it takes.” Uncanny was how she had felt about O'Rourke's pinpointing where the killer must live, and the other assessments she had made about him, including his age, and the reason they should go with profile three. If it was all based on Rosnich, it could well be the wrong man and the wrong profile. Otto must be told. Otto must deal with O'Rourke and patch up the shaky profile and the team itself.
She looked at the picture of the soldier turned killer in West Germany wondering how he had eluded police and had gotten to America, if indeed he was the vampire who found Annie Copeland in Wekosha, Wisconsin. The face was young and the eyes questioning in the photo that Kaseem handed her. The hair was wild, unkempt, and the mouth was set in a little, derisive half-smile at the cameraman. It was a military mug shot. Rosnich had been in the guardhouse more than once for fighting and thievery.
She tried to imagine what he would look like today. The photo almost masked a scar on his temple. Rosnich was bom in a suburb of Chicago called Wheaton. Could Wheaton be the home of the blood addict?
She asked Kaseem about the details of the killing in West Germany and the investigation itself. She was trying to tie these details to what she knew about the killer.
“ Was the victim hung upside down?”
“ By his heels, yes. That's what first attracted us to your case.”
“ Were the victim's tendons cut?”
“ No.”
“ What kind of knot was used?”
“ Sling knot.”
' 'And the slash, was it a left-handed cut or a right-handed cut?”
“ Left-handed.”
“ Was there an unusual absence of blood?”
“ The man drank his blood.”
“ How do you know that?”
“ He was seen doing so by some children hiding in the bushes.”
“ All right, but was the cut to the jugular a deep penetration, and was there much pooling of blood below the corpse?”
“ Sure, lots of blood, but that's only because the guy was just a kid, new at it. He hadn't thought it out. It was just a sudden, impulsive act that-”
“ But not so impulsive that he didn't plan it? He did lure the other man out there,” she countered.
“ We still believe it could be the same man.”
“ So it could be. According to the experts, there are maybe three hundred blood-drinkers in the U.S. and Canada, so he could as well not be our man.”
“ Experts? What experts?”
“ Otto Boutine. He knows more about Tort 9s than anyone.”
Kaseem nodded respectfully.
' 'Look, we can put out an all-points on your man, get an FBI artist on this photo, touch it up, age the guy appropriately, and maybe even get a bust made of him. If he is our killer, we'll do whatever's necessary to get him. This is not a contest to see who gets him first, Dr. Kaseem; it only matters that he is stopped.”
“ The military wants him.”
“ The FBI wants him.”
“ The two do not have to be mutually exclusive, Dr. Coran.”
“ Just the same, you people play false with me again, and you can forget any cooperation whatever with the agency. And that's no threat.”
Kaseem took her hand and she shook his.
“ Good,” he said.
“ Then we understand each other.”?
SEVENTEEN
As Jessica Coran's plane flew over Indianapolis' lights at forty thousand feet, Teach was driving up to the parking lot at Grant Memorial Hospital on the outskirts of the city. He had seen all his regular clients, and he had seen Dr. Grubber, and now his time was his. He put on his medical supply sales badge and wandered the halls of the newly constructed hospital, breathing in the hospital smells, annoyed only by the fluorescent lights, which hurt his sensitive skin. Even though it was hot, he wore long sleeves. He also wore his dark glasses, but hospital people understood the need for dark glasses to protect the eyes from the brilliance of the lights. Everything was so white.
He liked to wander about the emergency waiting room where oftentimes young people were brought in, some in need of a place to stay the night. He knew how to approach those in need.
There was a young woman in a corner by herself looking frightened and alone. He went to her and told her he was a doctor, and he asked if she was being taken care of.
“ No, I've been waiting and waiting,” she said, “and they won't tell me how Jimmy is.”
“ Jimmy? Is Jimmy your little boy?”
She laughed at this. “No, Jimmy's my boyfriend. He ran himself off the road and I was called by the police, but I've been left to sit here all this time. I got no way of knowing if he's all right.”
“ What's Jimmy's last name?”
“ Pyles.”
“ Okay, good. I'll find out what I can for you, and I'll be right back,” he told her.
He went straight through the door separating the waiting room from the nurses' station and found chaos inside. Everyone was busy. He gave his stay a moment longer before returning to the distraught young woman in the waiting area. The girl was instantly at him for news.
“ He's stabilizing well, and it looks like he's going to be fine. Dr. Thornton said he was gotten here in time, so no serious damage was done.”
She almost collapsed. “Oh, oh… oh, thank you… thank you.”
“ Dr. Thornton suggests you go on home; that there's nothing you can do until tomorrow. Says Jimmy'll be out of it until then; doped to the ceiling.” He chuckled lightly.
“ No, I don't think I could leave him. I'll just wait and-”
“ No, no, child, nonsense. I have a good sedative I can prescribe for you, and once you've had some
