a walking mess, but I… I didn't expect him so bloody soon, yet somehow he's come and somehow he's following me- no, preceding me-to the damned crime scene on the Hearts case! How? How can he get there ahead of us, paint the wall in blood and disappear before anyone can know? Is he superhuman, super-inhuman? No way, the bastard set it up to look like a Hearts killing, but he's really the one. He's here… here, Kim…here and stalking me, taunting me.”
“ How do you know that, Jess? How can you possibly know that?”
“ I was at the scene, 34 East Canal Street, just like you. You saw the writing on the wall.”
“ I saw it, yes, but-”
“ I freaked… left… left the crime scene, Kim. Didn't follow proper protocol, just rushed out of there. I was standing on the street when Alex Sincebaugh carried you out of there and rushed you to the hospital. I was so distraught, I couldn't think straight, you know… after it dawned on me what I'd done, and I looked for him in the crowd, ready to kill him outright, but he never showed his goddamned face.”
“ How can you know for certain he's here, Jessica?” Kim didn't know how to console her.
“ Oh, God, it's his writing, his printing, identical, and he knew the moment I saw it that I'd know, don't you see? That killing was no Queen of Hearts killing. It was Matisak, pure and simple. Matisak leaves bloody messages on walls, not the Hearts guy.”
“ There's nothing says Matisak has a corner on it. There've been bloody messages left on walls in many serial killings.”
“ Damnit, Kim, I've seen enough of Teach Matisak's perverted poetry now to know how he spaces his letters, precisely how large his loops and swirls are. It was in Matisak's hand! I was so rattled, I couldn't do my job.”
“ Jesus, then who carried you out?” Kim asked, thinking of Sincebaugh. “I ran out.”
“ Unprotected, believing he'd just left the scene ahead of you?”
Jessica paced the room. “I know it sounds crazy. Maybe I am crazy.”
Kim was wondering as much. “So, you tore out into the street without anyone's help, knowing-fearing-that Matisak was nearby?”
“ Nobody can help me. Don't you see that? It's between him and me now.”
“ I'll make us some coffee. Let's talk this out, Jess.”
“ I'm telling you, it was him. He knows that I'll see through his despicable game, his disgusting message meant for me. God, how many others are going to die because he's after me?” Jessica had grabbed hold of Kim's wrist and now stared deeply into her eyes while Kim held firm to the coffeepot where they stood in the small kitchenette.
“ I'm not going crazy, Kim. For the last few days I've felt someone following me, watching me. Even on the way over here-”
“ Take it easy, Jess. We'll work this through. Did you bring any of Matisak's things with you?”
“ Yes, in my coat pocket.”
“ Good… good girl. Now, let's have that coffee, and we'll take it one step at a time. I take it you've talked with Lew Meade about your… suspicions, haven't you?”
“ Negative. He'd be more in the way than anything else.”
“ Oh, come on, Jess, you can't seriously expect to do this alone.”
“ I don't like Meade, nor do I particularly trust him.”
She laughed. “Neither do I, but he could be of help.”
“ Likely do the same as Paul did; put bodyguards on me and then go back to sleep. Got anything to drink?”
“ There's a dry bar here, but I really think we need to stay clear, Jess, and focused.”
“ You know about my bout with liquor, don't you, Kim? You know everything there is to know, don't you, and I… I know the rest, right? What a team.”
“ Tomorrow we move you, bag and baggage, to here, to stay with me.”
“ No… if you don't mind… tonight. Let's do it tonight.”
“ You have a seance in mind-Matisak items in your pos-ession.” Kim knowingly pointed.
Jessica's eyes did her pleading for her.
Sincebaugh went toward the French Quarter in search of a transvestite named Phyllis. By now most revelers and night people had ended their partying in a boozy brown daze-cloud of well-wishing and good nights, some club lights blinking off. Still others ran all night. He was amazed to see by the dash clock that it was nearly one in the morning.
Seeing a patrol car whose call numbers he knew, he pulled in alongside the officers. It was Ray Samson and his partner Calvin Toombs, a paired black team who liked it that way, and they were glad to have the company to break the monotony, but they were also a bit suspicious of Sincebaugh's showing up like this, alone and without his partner.
“ What the hell gives, Alex? Thought you went off at midnight, Detective,” asked Samson.
“ Where's your pal deYampert?” added Toombs.
“ Just doing a little moonlighting. Listen, guys, I'm putting out feelers for a transvestite in the area and-''
This made each of the other men break into laughter, Toombs saying, “Better watch how you wordin' that line, Sincy.” Alex mentally flashed back on what he'd said that was so funny, registered this and went on. “Someone calls himself Phyllis. You ever hear?” Samson pursed his lips and shook his head. “Not really.”
“ How 'bout you, Calvin?”
“ Wish I could help you, but only Phyllis I know is the legitimate item.”
“ Keep it in mind for me, will you?”
“ Sure, sure thing, Lieutenant.”
“ Important?” asked Samson. “Got to do with your Hearts-Afire case?”
“ Maybe… maybe nothing. Unreliable source for damned sure. Either of you guys've heard word one about the whereabouts of my usual snitch?”
“ Gilreath?”
“ Not a word, Lieutenant. Sorry.”
“ Seems that mother's gone to Alaska where things ain't so hot, maybe.”
“ Yeah, well, thanks anyway.”
The squad car, smelling of greasy Cajun fries and burgers, pulled away and Alex stared after it, wondering what the men in the ranks were saying about him these days.
It'd be sunrise in four or five hours and the exhumation would be well under way against all better judgment. Still, perhaps he ought to be on hand. He'd go to his apartment, freshen up and try to look like he was rested in any case. From there he'd call Landry, learn what was going on.
He drove back across the city, his depression overtaking him, making him wish that he'd played out the scene with Kim Desinor in a far smoother and more heroic manner than he'd opted for. She'd seen right through him, through his bitterness, through his evasiveness, through all his shields. She was scary in her precision, her accuracy and her focus.
Once at home, he was surprised to find Ben deYampert waiting half-asleep in the parking lot. It was just past one A.M. and the exhumation was scheduled for dawn, in order to disturb as few Joe Q. Publics as possible and so that the grave-diggers involved couldn't cry overtime.
“ There's no reason for you to be at the exhumation, Alex,” Ben told him.
“ I wanna be there.”
“ After what went on at 34 East Canal?”
“ I'm sorry about having disrupted things, Ben…honestly.”
“ I don't suppose you heard about what happened with Dr. Coran at 34 East Canal?” Ben cautioned.
“ No, I didn't. What gives?”
“ She just vanished on us. Left her bag there with her work half undone. Had to call Frank in to clean up after her.”
“ You're kidding. Dr. Coran just up and walked out, just like that?”
“ 'Fraid so. Meade's talking about disciplinary measures. Any case, I haven't a clue as to where she is at the moment, and no one else has heard from her. She may be a no-show at the cemetery.”
