The case meant much politically to his career. It also meant an opening up of relations between the two most famous and powerful law-enforcement agencies in the world, the FBI and Scotland Yard.
Jessica, with little to add to the picture for Santiva, embellished what they had on the Crucifier and spent a good deal of time telling Santiva about Luc Sante, saying, “What a remarkable find he is! You really must consider putting him on as a consultant, Eriq. Our man in Britain. He's really top drawer.”
Eriq Santiva expressed only his interest in the case, and how it was going. He was upset with her for not having kept him apprised. She'd failed to answer his last communique. He began to rave somewhat, when she stopped him, saying, “I've had my hands full, Eriq.”
“Well, from here on out, I want a full report every other day from you, Agent Coran.”
“Why're you so angry, Eriq? And why all the formality?”
“Short of that, e-mail me here. Do you understand. Agent Coran?”
She realized now that he was not alone, that he spoke for an audience there in his office, all likely on the speakerphone. Damn him and his bosses for their little dishonesties. “Nasty business here, Chief, really,” she played to their audience. “No significant clues left by the killer. A diabolically clever fellow intent on our not having the least lead. But just this morning we've uncovered some new evidence.”
“Fill me in.”
She told him of the coal dust, the wood fibers and the beetle, and he hemmed and hawed over this for some time, saying only, “Interesting
…”
“I'm having the beetle carbon dated, and analysis should show us something. We've also found the killer does something unusual to his victims' tongues.”
'Tongues?”
She had them. She told them all about Mihi beata mater, informing them she'd tried to keep the exact wording in-house, but that authorities were not cooperating with her desire to do so. “If you can apply any pressure along those lines, it would be greatly appreciated.”
“Remember, e-mail or phone, but keep me informed,” Eriq finished.
I don't have that kind of time, Eriq, she wanted to scream but dared not. “Absolutely,” she lied.
“I want constant updates on this one, Jessica.”
“All right,” she grumbled into the phone. “Can you put me through to John Thorpe in the crime lab now?”
“Sure. And Jess, be careful over there.”
“Thanks. I will be.”
“Wouldn't want to lose you to Scotland Yard, either.”In a few moments, John Thorpe came on the line, saying, “Yes? This is Thorpe.”
Jessica breathed easier talking to J. T., knowing she could fully trust him. She told him about her conversation with Santiva. J. T. grumbled one single word, 'Typical.”
She again brought J. T. up-to-date on the killings in London. “Whoever this lunatic is, he's giving away very little of himself,” she finished.
“Sounds dire,” he replied, “and you sound tired. Getting any sleep? How's that insomnia problem?”
“I'm bearing up. What news in Tattoo Man's case?”
“Some progress. Some surprising twists, in fact.”
“Really? Go on.”
“I met with one of the so-called giants in the art, at a convention in Memphis, Tennessee. Since he was such an expert, I showed him the artwork, you know, the autopsy photos, in an attempt to nail down the artwork and the artist it belonged to.”
“And?”
“And turns out our boy, Horace, paid big bucks for his
BLIND INSTINCT illustrated body. The guy knew the artist, admired his work. We were right-a disciple of H. R. Giger.”
“Congratulations, John.”
“The actual artist who worked on Horace lives in New Jersey. I'm driving to see him tomorrow. He keeps records in his head, though, so keep your fingers crossed.”
Jessica replied, “Will do.”
“So, where do you go next on the Crucifier case?”
Again, Jessica found herself speaking more about Luc Sante than the case. She filled J. T. in on the man and his theories, using J. T. as a sounding board, and then apologizing for it.
“Don't be silly. If you were here, or I were there, we'd be bouncing ideas and thoughts off one another, wouldn't we?”
“Right you are. Strange how many seeming parallels there are between the two unrelated cases,” she now said.
“Such as?”
“The amount of preparation the killer goes to, for one. Quite medculous attention to detail, wouldn't you say?”
“Absolutely in my case. Whoever prepared Tattoo Man for murder went through a great deal of ritual, and at any point along the way might have backed out. Imagine the patience required to infect six dogs, then the safety required to handle them.”
“Murder is easy to talk about, a great deal harder to carry out,” she agreed, “especially if your murder requires elaborate stage props and preparations. Believe me, our two killers have a good deal in common, at least on that score.”
“Is that right?”
“Our killer here is into preparations, to say the least.”
J. T. found himself being paged, another call coming in. “Could be about the case, Jess. Best go. You take care, and get in some R amp; R while you're over there.”
“Gee, I hadn't thought of that,” she joked before saying good-bye and hanging up.
THIRTEEN
We may easily fail to pity the sociopath and psychopath for their ghastly evil, but we must surely pity them for the unremitting lives of apprehension they lead.
The following Monday, Jessica joined yet another general meeting called by Chief Inspector Boulte, this one limited to Scotland Yard detectives alone. Every single detective on the force had long before been put on alert regarding the case of the Crucifier, but now with the additional information concerning new findings in the autopsy reports brought about by Dr. Jessica Coran, findings which could not be ignored, Boulte wished for his entire team to be “well-versed and further enlightened by Dr. Jessica Coran herself.”
Why am I getting the idea Boulte hates my guts? she asked herself. At Sharpe's request, the man had contacted her superiors in D.C., who had in turn contacted Quantico, who had in turn contacted Eriq Santiva, who had contacted her. Obviously, Boulte saw her competence as a personal rebuff to him. In his zeal to demean her, he had pushed professional courtesy to its limits. Either that or worse. Perhaps he'd gotten wind of the budding personal relationship between her and Richard and he didn't like it. Worse still, he saw it as an opportunity to hurt Richard.
Still, Boulte remained in charge when he now asked Jessica, “Will you share further profile information, anything developed by you and Sharpe, for instance, with the rest of us.” His tone made clear that he knew the two of them had slept together, and somehow she'd become yet another prize in the continual battles of the two men.
