Oh boy.
No point in hiding the truth anymore. Gabriel sighed. “Fine. I’m aspergic.”
“That explains a lot.”
“W-what?”
“You went to special ed in elementary, where you met Casey, your late best friend, you know, who had autism?”
Gabriel frowned. “So what? Us tards in the spectrum stick together, uh?”
“Oh my… no. I didn’t mean—”
“Then what do you mean?”
“Shouldn’t have said that. What I mean is you’re incredibly focused and determined. We all know how obsessed you are with justice.”
“But my condition is still somehow a problem?” Gabriel asked. “Look, you wanna fire me, go ahead.”
“No, why would I— I’ve seen you hunt down three ultraviolent criminals in the period of two months. You’re a highly functional, crime-solving guru. A gem in the FBI’s arsenal.”
“What’s the problem then?”
“You should have told me about your condition before. Or in your application.”
“I’m not comfortable talking about it,” Gabriel said. “You’re right. I suffered from alcoholism, and still suffer nightmares. I don’t know if those psychological problems are related to Asperger’s. But my battles with liquor and nightmares are connected to scary things, sad things, that I’d rather forget.”
“So you avoid thinking about them?”
“Honestly, I don’t think about anything much. I don’t care about sex, don’t care if I have friends or money or respect. Frankly, there’s not much I care about.”
“Except solving crimes.”
“Except solving crimes, yes,” Gabriel said. “That’s my routine, and that’s what I’m gonna do until I die.”
There was an uncomfortable silence on the line, making Gabriel hold his breath. Maybe the FBI did not take kindly to people like him.
“Good thing we got just the gig for you,” Conor said. “Welcome aboard, Agent Chase.”
Gabriel released his breath. “Thank y—”
“Excited about our very first case in BISKIT?” The pitch of Conor’s voice increased, bordering on squealing.
“Yes,” Gabriel said truthfully. Nothing was as satisfying as catching serial killers, especially internationally. Because serial killers were the personification of evil and fighting them was the reason he existed.
“Awesome. We’ve received a request from the CID in London.”
“The UK?” Gabriel asked dumbly, feeling the excitement growing.
“Uh-huh,” Conor affirmed. “Looks like a crazy guy up there mutilates his victims and puts them up for public display, taunting the authorities.”
“Can you ask them to send us the case file?”
“They already did, and I’ve forwarded them to you, along with the flight ticket.”
“Flight ticket?” Gabriel frowned. “I hope it’s from JFK.”
“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t think you’d want to go back to New York. Didn’t take you for the good-bye type.”
“I’m not, but I need to drop Bill back, asshole,” Gabriel said.
“Totally forgot about him.”
“See. Sociopath,” Gabriel said.
“Is not,” Conor rebutted like a child. “I’ll rearrange the travelling plans.”
“Cool.”
“Once you get to London, your new partner will meet you there.”
Gabriel said, “Sounds good.”
“Alright. Let me call you with a revised schedule.” Conor hung up.
Gabriel gripped the phone with both hands and rested it on his forehead. Conor was not rude or condescending, but why would he want to bring Gabriel’s condition up if he wasn’t going to do anything about it? Probably to let Gabriel know that his secret was in the open. A power play. But it didn’t matter. Gabriel always remembered what Joshua had said once when he’d come home crying because the bullies at school wouldn’t stop calling him ‘weirdo’. If people had a problem with his condition, it was just that.
Their problem.
Thanking his dad, Gabriel sat up and tossed the phone into the hospital bag. When the phone landed, something vivid and shiny was exposed from within. On closer inspection, he found that the item jutted out of his clothes, the ones he’d worn when arresting Ryatt.
Gabriel pulled his jeans out and what was in the pocket?
A Zesty.
Ryatt must have slipped it in when Gabriel was out cold.
He grabbed the candy and examined it. The déjà vu returned, and that melancholic sensation of familiarity crept into his mind, stunning his thoughts. The buried memory was somehow related to Ryatt. Gabriel was sure that he had seen him before.
But no matter how much he tried or squeezed his temples, he just couldn’t remember.
Frustrated, he walked over to the window to get some much-needed fresh air.
Calabria, Roman’s criminal hangout, was now a burned-out charcoal skeleton, cordoned by yellow crime scene tape.
Smiling, Gabriel closed his eyes and filled his lungs to their capacity a few times. But the oxygen did not ease the heckling memory. In fact, for some reason, staring out of an open window at darkness while holding Zesty intensified the uneasiness.
A strange urge to eat the lollipop overwhelmed Gabriel.
He pinched the corner of the Zesty’s wrapper and pulled it loose. The yellow sphere was sprinkled with tiny red thingamajigs.
“Screw it,” he muttered and stuck it in his mouth.
As the ginger candy melted between his cheek and teeth, the aroma it released boosted his ability to recall.
Wasn’t the sense of smell a powerful tool to remember the associated incidents from the past, as it was linked more strongly to memory than other senses? It should be, because the déjà vu finally found its origin: a really old event from his childhood.
Gabriel’s eyes widened in recognition and the world around froze in time. At last, he remembered where he’d seen Ryatt before.
Also by Nathan Senthil
Check out the first and second Detective Gabriel Chase thrillers:
Self-styled Mr. Bunny wants
