Rychman escorted her out, asking, “What's this all about?”
“ We found what appears to be a message from the killer lodged into the Phillips body, Alan.”
“ A poem? Now our creep is writing poetry to us? Left inside the victim? Christ, I want to fry this bastard.”
“ I think it's a new ripple. I think he wants to talk, to communicate.”
“ Talk, communicate… sounds familiar. What is it makes these lunatics want to buddy up and talk, like maybe it'd be nice to have a beer with the sonofa-”
Rychman stopped in midsentence, seeing Jim Drake at the other end of the hall on a telephone. “That creep gets ahold of this, it'll be in the evening paper, you know that?”
“ I haven't spoken to him.”
“ You don't have to speak to him. He's got rabbit ears.”
“ Come on. Let's get a bite at the machines downstairs.”
“ Where'd you and Darius disappear to this morning, if you don't mind my asking?”
“ Not at all.” She launched into a description of the best time she'd had in New York since her arrival.
“ Hmmmm,” replied Rychman as they entered the elevator, “better than the fun we had at the shooting range?”
“ Let's just say I didn't feel any tension with the good doctor, no expectations, no games.”
“ And you do with me?”
“ Some, yes, especially the last time I entered an elevator with you.”
“ Hey, I'm sorry 'bout that, really. I… It was the wine and… and you… being alone with you.”
“ I'll try to take that as a compliment.”
“ You should.”
Dr. Lathrope's secretary, Marilyn Khoen, whispered into the telephone receiver. “That's all I know. No, don't push me on this, not unless you can guarantee… No, no way. I'm not going to do that.”
At the other end of the line, James W. Drake III was making promises the reporter wasn't sure he could keep, but if he could show a break in the Claw case, he believed he could write his own ticket. Hell, he could practically guarantee Marilyn a job with the Times, maybe as his assistant… but it all depended on the nature of the contents of the piece of paper fished from the body of one of the victims. He needed details, facts only Marilyn could secure for him. He knew it was asking a lot, but it could also mean a great deal. Everything was riding on what the Claw did these days.
He realized that the deadly Claw had, in effect, the power to make or break any number of careers in the city, from lowly reporter to mayor to commissioner of police. He wondered how it would work out for Alan Rychman, whom he didn't particularly like, anyway.
“ Marilyn, sweetheart, it's for me, for Jimmy, huh?”
He waited for her reply. When it didn't come, he urged her on. “Whataya say? Come on, you can trust me.”
“ You're making me feel like… like a damned whore, Jimmy, and I deserve better from you!”
“ No, no, baby, I'd never do that. I love you, and I want to make things right between us, the way they used to be, remember? Remember when we took the boat out on the harbor? Remember how it was, doing it at sea? Remember the salt air and, and-”
“ What're you saying? That we can get back together if-”
“ I'm saying I'll be eternally grateful, babe, eternally.”
“ Is that like a marriage proposal?”
“ I'll get you a good job at the paper.”
“ I… I don't know.”
He was about to slam the phone down in frustration, but he held onto it and calmed himself instead. “You'd be doing the city a favor. When they hide all the facts about this maniac running around the city
… Marilyn, a killer that feeds on women like you, babe, slices and dices and actually eats their flesh… I'm telling you, honey, the public's got a right to know, to protect themselves, to be on the lookout, and you… you're in a unique position to help see that happens. You might even save a life.”
“ I… I don't know.”
But he could tell by the change in her tone that she did know. And he knew that he had her where he wanted her, hooked on the idea.
“ Just start keeping notes. Anything you overhear, anything relating to what Dr. Coran is working on, okay?”
“ I like Dr. Lathrope. It's just these all-nighters and you never know when you're on call.”
“ Baby, you think I don't know that? It's got to be grueling for you… grueling. With me, it'd be strictly nine to five.” What was one more lie? he told himself.
When Jessica and Alan Rychman returned to the documents division, they were hopeful that something useful might await them. Lathrope was staring at the supposed words of the killer, a scowl disfiguring his horse- sized face, his glasses perched at the end of his nose as he crinkled it in consternation.
“ Makes no damned sense, Rychman. See for yourselves.”
Rychman and Jessica read from the sheet of paper, now safely under a blue light that illuminated bloodstains, separating the messy stains from the ink lettering and the plethora of fingerprints that lay beneath. The words were bizarre. She began to read them aloud, trying to pick up on the meter.
“ My teeth will have your eyes
And feed on your banal cries…
Your sins will be eaten away
That you might live another day…
The Claw is no name for him
Who gives you eternal life
By eating away your sin…
My rabid, hungry sin-feast
Will out in the end
To give you eternal peace.”
It was signed “Ovid, Divine Protector.”
“ Christ, what're we supposed to surmise from this?” asked Rychman. “That it's the work of one guy, or a collaborative effort?”
He could not hide his disappointment.
“ There's more here than meets the eye. We need to get a shrink's advice, but I'd be willing to bet there're some clues to this guy's head in all this,” Jessica said.
“ We got a guy named Ames, fresh from the Chicago Police Department,” said Rychman. “Supposed to be a helluva head man. Let's get a few copies of this made,” Rychman replied.
Lathrope called his secretary in and handed her the poem in its glass case, carefully holding it by its sides. “Careful with this, Marilyn. Make a few copies for Captain Rychman.”
“ This stays in-house, people,” Rychman told Lathrope and his assistant. “Who else knows about this?” he asked Jessica.
“ Only Dr. Darius and Archer. Archer saw me with it when I left the lab, and I assume Dr. Darius told him about it.”
“ Good, let's see it stays that way, everyone.”
“ You got it, Captain,” said Lathrope.
Marilyn returned with several copies and Rychman quickly confiscated them.
“ We'll get what we can from the original,” said Lathrope. “See if these prints can be matched.”
“ Thanks for dropping everything for me, Dr. Lathrope,” said Jessica, shaking his hand.
“ Not to give it a second thought. A most interesting challenge, actually.”
His assistant piped in from the other room where he had started back to work on another project, saying, “It's a wonder Darius fished it from the dead woman's insides at all, from what I saw down there in Scarsdale.”
“ Yes, it was quite a surprise for him; something of a shock,” Jessica answered.
