"You're an idiot, Bob." He pulled his coat closed against the teeth of the wind as he made his way across the small quad behind Fairchild hall and around the front of the MCZ.
With the weather changing for the worse again, few people were out and about, but Cambridge never really slept. There were always students working or studying somewhere. The MCZ was dark, but Northwest Science was lit up as always. He passed it and keyed into the parking garage side door. The wind slammed the door closed behind him as he started climbing the stairs to the third level. He heard the door slam again just as he reached his floor; someone else was going home after a long day. He glanced down the stairwell out of reflex, but there was nobody there.
With a mental shrug, he pushed open the door to the parking level and started down the row of empty spaces. He was about halfway to his old Nissan when he heard the door slam again behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, but as before, saw no one. A chill shot down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Muggings weren't common in Cambridge, but they weren't unheard of, either. There were enough pillars on the level for a stalker to hide behind, but Bob's car was only a couple hundred feet away.
He quickened his steps.
A sound to his left, the scuff of a shoe on concrete maybe, drew his attention, and he thought he saw the flick of a shadow.
"Who's there?" he shouted, not really expecting an answer, but intent on letting whoever it was know that he'd been spotted. He pulled his bag off his shoulder and fumbled his car keys out of a pocket, clenching them in his fist with one key sticking out between his fingers. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing.
Something clicked behind him and to the right, and Bob whirled, but once again, there was nothing there.
"I'm armed!" he lied, hoping it might buy enough hesitation on his stalker's part for him to make it to his car. He broke into a trot. The Nissan was barely fifty feet away. He could make it.
Something went click behind him again, and he glanced back, knowing he wouldn't see anything. The empty garage mocked him. He turned back and ran full out for his car, fumbling the keys. Twenty feet, ten, and he was there. He'd made it. His hand shook as he put the key in the lock and turned it.
He caught a reflection of a shape over his shoulder in the car window, a face, white teeth, eyes glinting in the dim light.
"Little fucker." The voice turned his bowels to water.
Bob whirled his bag around hard, but it was ripped out of his hand. Then he saw the blood, the long, ragged tears in his forearm and the shredded remnants of his hand. Blood pulsed from the tattered stumps of two missing fingers. He opened his mouth to scream, but the next blow struck him across the throat and spun him around.
His own reflection stared back at him from the car window, a flash of surprise before a spray of blood obscured it and his vision dimmed. He slid down the door and lay there, the taste of blood in his mouth and the cold concrete of the parking garage floor pressing against his cheek.
23
Aleksi snapped awake without knowing what woke her. She blinked, remembering a dream—faces, blood, claws, and flashing teeth. They'd become so common that she took them for granted. The clock displayed six ten in the morning; her alarm would go off in twenty minutes. She closed her eyes, trying to banish the dream memory. Then the doorbell chimed, followed by a hard knock on the door, and she realized that must have awoken her.
"Who the hell?" She jumped out of bed, grabbed a robe and went out into the hall. A light flicked on under Julie's door. "Someone's at the door, Julie. I'll get it."
"The door?" Julie's voice sounded sleepy and disoriented.
Aleksi checked that the chain was on before she said, "Who is it?"
"Cambridge Police, Miss. We need to speak to you."
"Police?" Aleksi flipped on the hall light and turned the deadbolt. She put her foot flat on the carpet a couple inches behind the door and opened it slowly. Two men in heavy coats stood in the hall, a shorter one in front and a taller one behind. "Show me a badge."
"I'm Sergeant Jasper, and this is Detective Willis." They both fished in their coat pockets and produced authentic-looking badges, though Aleksi had to admit that she wouldn't have known a false one. "May we come in, Miss?"
"Um…sure." She closed the door, flipped the chain off the catch and opened it again, stepping back. "What's going on?"
"We need to ask you some questions, Miss," the sergeant said as they stepped in.
As Aleksi closed the door, Julie's bedroom door opened. Julie stepped out fastening a robe, her hair a mass of disheveled curls. "What's this about?" She rubbed sleep from her eyes blinking in disbelief.
"And why couldn't it wait until a decent hour?" Aleksi followed up.
"I'm sorry, but it's important." The sergeant looked at them each in turn, then back to Aleksi. "You're Aleksandrovna Rychenkna?"
"Aleksi, yes, and I'll ask again, what's this about?" Aleksi folded her arms and did her best to glare at the two police officers.
"And as I said, Miss Rychenkna, we just have a few questions."
"About what?"
"About where you were last night."
"I was here."
"All night?"
"I got home about seven, worked until about eleven, and went to bed where I slept until about two minutes ago. Now tell me why I need an alibi."
The sergeant ignored her question but turned to Julie. "And you must be Julie Parks." Julie nodded, now fully awake. "Can you confirm that Miss Rychenkna was here all night."
"I went to bed at about ten thirty, and since we don't sleep in the same bedroom, no, I can't."
"And did you phone anyone last night, Miss Rychenkna?"
"I…Yes, I called Bob Tomlin. Why?"
"And what did you talk about?" he asked, once again ignoring her own question.
"We talked about research." Aleksi felt herself becoming angry with the cop's manner and bit it back. "We're working together on a project for Dr. Hutchinson, our advisor. Now, that's the last answer you get out of me before you tell me what the hell this is about." She clenched her jaw, trying not to grind her teeth.
"Were you here when Miss Rychenkna called Bob Tomlin, Miss Parks?"
"Yes," Julie admitted, a tremor of worry in her voice.
"And can you confirm that they talked about this research project?"
"Yes, I can. I was right there. I talked to him too, after they were done."
"And what did you talk to him about?"
"We're dating. We set up a date for tonight." She glanced at Aleksi, then back to the sergeant. "What's wrong with Bob?"
Jasper looked at Aleksi again, then at Julie, scrutinizing their faces. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Bob Tomlin was murdered last night."
"What?" Aleksi blurted.
"You're lying!" Julie snapped, her voice shaking. She stepped back, and staggered. "What kind of bullshit prank is this? Who the fuck are you, really? I don't believe you're real cops at all!"
"I'm sorry, Miss Parks, but it happened last night at about twelve thirty in the Oxford Parking garage. He was killed right next to his car, and from his cell phone, Miss Rychenkna, you were the last person that Bob Tomlin called."
"I don't believe you!" Julie snapped again, her face pale with panic. "I want to see him!"
"That's not possible, Miss Parks. The body's already been taken to the morgue, and the crime scene is restricted." He turned back to Aleksi. "Did you have any disagreements with Bob Tomlin?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, but last night's phone call pretty much resolved them."
"And what was the nature of this disagreement."
"Look, I'm willing to answer any questions you have, but I think both Julie and I need to get squared away and maybe have a cup of coffee." She stepped past the two cops and put her arm around Julie's shoulders. "Please. We just woke up."
"We'll only be a few more minutes, Miss Rychenkna. Now, what did you argue about with Bob Tomlin?"
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Aleksi ignored the question and guided Julie to the couch. She seemed in shock. "Just sit here for a minute, Julie. I'll get you something." When she turned to the kitchen, the two police officers were standing there, looking grim. She sighed and stepped past them. "We argued about another student, Derrick Penningly, who stole some data from our project and was horning in on the research." She put coffee on and poured a glass of water for Julie. "He told Dr. Hutchinson that I gave him the data and invited him on board, but it was a lie. I told Bob last night that I confronted Derrick and told him to back off."
"And how do you know this Derrick Penningly?" Jasper asked while his partner jotted notes in a tiny pad.
"He's in one of the lab classes I'm teaching, comparative zoology, and he works at the MCZ. I talked to him after class just yesterday." She took the water to Julie and went back to the kitchen, willing the coffee to brew faster.
"And was this conversation with Derrick Penningly heated?"
Aleksi turned and glared at him. "He stole my research and lied about me, Sergeant Jasper. Yes, it was heated. I was angry."
"How angry, Miss Rychenkna?"
"Angry enough to threaten him and key the hood of his car," she admitted, though she was not about to tell him that it was not keys, but her nails that had creased the hood of Derrick's BMW.
"And were you that angry with Bob Tomlin?"
"I wasn't angry with Bob at all. I was just upset that he assumed I was trying to undercut his part in my research project. We were both angry with Derrick, and we were all going to meet with Dr. Hutchinson about it tomorrow." She poured two cups of coffee and went back out to the front room. Julie sat there with the full glass of water in her hands, staring into space. She sat down and put the cups on the table. "Julie, drink the water."
Julie took a sip, put the glass down, and picked up her coffee, cradling the cup in her shaking hands. She looked up at the two police men with pleading eyes. "Please. I'd like to see Bob. I've got to see him."
"I'm sorry, but the coroner's performing an autopsy at eight this morning." Jasper produced two business cards from a pocket and handed them each one. "Call me this afternoon, and I'll try to set something up."
Julie glanced at the card and dropped it onto the table, staring into her coffee cup.
"So, are we through?" Aleksi asked, taking a sip of the scalding coffee.
"For now, Miss Rychenkna, but we may have more questions. Please make yourself available to come down to the station for an interview."
"I'll email you my schedule. Just let me know what you need." She tucked the card into her robe pocket, put her cup down and stood. "I'll do whatever I can to help you find whoever killed Bob. He was a close friend." She heard a stifled sob from the couch as she escorted the two policemen to the door.
"Good. Thank you, Miss Rychenkna. Sorry to have woken you up with this."
She opened the door. "I won't lie to you, Sergeant; it's a hell of a way to start the day."
"I know, and I apologize." His tone said that he really wasn't sorry. "Oh, and if I could ask one more question: do you know how we might find Derrick Penningly?"
"No." She wondered why they would ask her with all their resources. "I don't have his phone number, just his email, and I don't have any idea where he lives. You can probably get his information from the registrar's office."
"Right. Good idea. Thank you." He nodded and turned away.
She closed the door and locked it, then leaned her forehead against the wood, her mind spinning. How could Bob be dead, murdered? Sounds of Julie crying intruded upon her thoughts, so she went to her to offer whatever comfort she could. As she sat down, however, she realized that she needed to do one more thing this morning; she had to call Hutch and let him know that one of his students was dead.
So much for the element of surprise," Willis said as they got back into the car. He turned the key, put the heat on full, and reached for his coffee.
"Oh, I think they were surprised enough, at least the Parks woman was. No faking there. The other though…" Jasper reached for his coffee and took a sip; it was cold, but the smell of the fresh-brewed java the girl had made was still in his brain. "Didn't seem like she took it like she ought to. No tears, no denial…"
"Yeah, she did seem more pissed off than distraught." Willis put the car in gear and drove gingerly down the icy street. "The morgue?"
"Breakfast first." Jasper was still trying to puzzle out the Rychenkna woman's response. "The coroner won't start until eight. Banker's hours, you know. And I hate going to an autopsy on an empty stomach."
"Friendly's?"
"Bingo." Visions of fresh coffee, eggs, and home fries blocked out the recent memories of Bob Tomlin's torn throat and mangled hand. "Then maybe the Harvard Registrar's office. I want to talk to this Derrick Penningly."
"Right."
Hutch's phone rang precisely at seven in the morning. He was just stepping out of the shower—the hotel had a great mini-gym—so he wrapped the towel around his waist and padded across the floor to the dresser. The caller ID displayed "Aleksi", and he cringed.
"What now?" He'd expected some rebuttal from last night's email, but first thing in the morning? "Good morning, Aleksi. What's up?"
"Sorry, Hutch, but it hasn't been a good morning at all."
"What's wrong?" He could hear the tension in her voice.
"Look, something really horrible has happened, and I don't know how to say it other than to just say it, so here goes." She paused for a breath. "Bob was murdered last night in Oxford Parking garage."
"What?" Hutch sat down heavily on the bed, his mind spinning. "How?"
"I don't know. The police came to my apartment this morning at six o'clock and woke me up with the news. I called him last night to straighten out this thing with Derrick, and it was evidently the last call on Bob's cell. They came here and asked a bunch of questions."
"Oh my God." His entire long list of worries had just been trumped. "Murdered? They know it was murder, not some kind of car accident?"
"They told me it was murder but wouldn't give any details. I'm going down to the morgue this afternoon with Julie, my roommate, to see him. They were…um…dating, and she's pretty bad off."
"Yeah, so am I." He tried to think through the spinning in his mind. "Look, Aleksi, I'm back in Boston tomorrow morning. Help the police any way you can, but don't let them screw anything up, okay. They may want to see Bob's lab, and they don't know protocol. They could ruin every sample we took without even trying. Call Dr. Vandyke and let him know; he'll back me up on this. The same goes for your lab. Oh, and call Lonnie and let her know what happened. Tell her to let everyone know."
"Okay." There was another pause. "And what about the meeting with Derrick?"
"I think we better postpone that, Aleksi. The police will want to talk to everyone, and I don't want to cause a confrontation that might be misconstrued." The last thing he needed at this point was a knock down drag out argument in his office. "Everything's on hold until I get back, and I mean everything. Understand?"
"I understand." Aleksi sniffed, and Hutch wondered if she'd been crying. "I'm sorry, Hutch."
That, at least, sounded more like the old Aleksi. "Don't be, Aleksi. None of this is your fault."
"Yeah, I know, but…" She sniffed again. "Who would want to kill Bob? I mean, it doesn't make any sense."
"These things never do," he said, trying to sound sure about it. "The police will come up with something. It was probably a mugging gone bad."
"Yeah. Okay. I'd still like to talk with you tomorrow about the project."
"Look, Aleksi, I don't know if we should go into this just yet. Wait for the police to finish their investigation, then we'll pick up the pieces.
"I know it sounds callous, Hutch, but I've got two months to get my proposal in and take my qualifying exams. Two months. The graduate coordinator's not going to care about any extenuating circumstances; they'll just tell me I'm out of luck."
"Lawson's not a tyrant, Aleksi. I'm sure he'll let us work something out." He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Bob Tomlin, dead… "Don't worry about it right now, Aleksi. I'll see you tomorrow, and we can talk."
"Okay. Thanks, Hutch."
"You're welcome. Now, I've got to get dressed and get to work."
"Oh! Okay. Bye then."
"Bye."
He ended the call and fell back on the bed, still trying to wrap his mind around the concept that Bob Tomlin was dead.
The victim died from blood loss due to two severed carotid arteries." The coroner pointed to the four ragged tears that transected Bob Tomlin's neck. The corpse lay on a metal autopsy table, covered to the waist with a thin blue plastic sheet. There was a large Y shaped incision in his torso that had already been closed. The autopsy was finished; Jasper and Willis were getting the condensed version. "The trachea was also damaged extensively, the laryngeal and hyoid cartilages severed. The man's right hand was also severely injured, two digits torn free, the carpals and metacarpals disarticulated."
"Looks like a damn pit bull mauled him." Willis peered down at the mangled hand. "I saw this kid once, a ganger, hopped the wrong fence on a foot pursuit. Damn pit bull took him apart before the patrolmen could even get there. Tore his whole face off."
"This wasn't an animal bite." The coroner stared at Willis as if he didn't appreciate the interruption. "There is no worrying of the tissues, no opposed wounds like teeth coming together would inflict, and we tested for saliva and found none."
"Any guess on the murder weapon, Doc?" Jasper asked.
"My guess is some kind of claw. Maybe a sharpened gardening tool or some type of martial arts weapon."
"You mean like that comic book guy, Wolverine?" Willis tended to irritate people intentionally for the entertainment value. "Should we put an APB out on a guy in yellow spandex?"
"If I remember my Marvel Comics correctly, Detective, Wolverine used blades, so no. Whatever this was, it wasn't sharp. Pointed, yes, but not edged like a knife." He pointed to the origin of the four gashes that had ended Bob Tomlin's life. "See here, and here, the flesh is torn, not cut. This also means that considerable force was required to do this much damage. Whoever your perp is, he's strong."
Dragon Dreams Page 20
