by Giles Milton
Tammy glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 11.42. ‘Better get to the conference room. Tom’s called a meeting. He wants to plan things out. He wants you there too. You’re suddenly in favour. He called you “one of the team” earlier.’
They made their way down the corridor and entered the room just as the others were taking their seats. Jack looked at the faces. Twelve of them. One was missing.
‘Okay - okay -’
Tom silenced the room with his hands.
‘Let’s begin.’
The room fell quiet. All eyes on Tom.
‘First things first -’
There was a long pause, filled by Tammy.
‘Where’s Jim?’
It was exactly what Jack was thinking. Jim Bartholomew was the missing face.
‘As I said, first things first. Sorry to announce that Jim Bartholomew’s no longer with us. Quit from ZAKRON. Resigned last night. And -’
He threw up his hands in an empty gesture.
‘Hell, he was never fully switched onto all of this. And he wanted out of it right away. Said we’re all on a one-way track to prison. Hunter and I had a hell of a time of it last evening and -’
He stopped himself mid-sentence and started to choose his words with care.
‘There’s always one that wants out. And Jim’s that one. Told us he didn’t support what we’d done. And was all for blabbing. Took us half the night to talk him out of it.’
Jennifer half-raised her hand.
‘How can you be so sure he won’t blab? Only need one to blab and it’s all over. We’re all shafted. Jim’s right. We’ll get hung out to dry.’
Tom’s lips pursed into a cold smile.
‘Jim said he’d keep quiet on one condition.’
‘Oh - ?’ All eyes were on him.
‘That we back-date his departure. On the paperwork I mean. Told us to date it before any of this took place. Hunter and I drew up a document there and then.’
He held it up.
‘And here it is. You’ll see the date when I pass it round. June. You’ll all need to sign it. Once that’s done, Jim’s out. Official. He’s no longer anything to do with us.’
Tom passed the document to Perez, seated to his right. Perez took a pen from his jacket pocket, signed it. Then he handed it to Luke Gonzalez, who was next to him. Gonzalez also signed it.
‘It’s a little reminder of the importance of secrecy,’ said Tom, dropping his voice. ‘There’s a possibility, of course, that Jim’s right in what he said. It’s possible, in fact it’s probable, that we could all, individually, be held responsible for Kingston’s death. And for this new one, if news ever leaks out that is.’
Pause.
‘What I guess I’m trying to say is the importance of keeping your mouths shut. Zipped tight. Keep them zipped and we’ll swing through all of this just fine.’
‘What if he kills again?’ Ryan jabbed his pen towards Tom. There was panic in his voice. ‘Holy shit, Tom, What d’we do then?’
Tom leaned forwards, elbows out, but dodged the question by looking at his watch. He turned to Tammy.
‘Fire up the TV can you? Let’s catch the midday bulletin. Carla just told me it’s hit the nationals. Fox. CNN. Unfortunately it’s gone big time.’
Tammy hit the remote control and tuned to CNN. The midday news was just beginning.
Ashton Brookner. Third item, after the Davos summit and the stolen uranium business. Gruesome murder. Mutilated corpse. No obvious suspect.
The introduction lasted a minute or so then Sheriff Rayno appeared on screen. He’d aged ten years since the morning and his thinning hair was slicked with sweat. He was being questioned by the news anchor.
‘Sheriff Lem Rayno, I’ve just been handed a note, right as we came on air, saying there’s been an important development in the case. Can you shed any light on this?’
Sheriff Rayno nodded at the camera, blinked.
‘Yeah. We’ve been running checks on the victim. And there’s some interesting leads coming in.’
‘What sort of leads? Can you give us more?’
‘What we’ve got so far is that the deceased, Ashton Brookner, he was involved in developing the new generation of drone. Local folks will know all about it. Called the Zephyr Eagle. Being designed and built here in Hanford. At Vortec.’
‘That indeed sounds like a significant development. You’re thinking - ?’
‘Not jumpin’ to any conclusions,’ said Rayno, scratching at his armpit, stained dark with sweat.
‘Can you give us more on Ashton Brookner? What did he do at Vortec? Was he actively involved on the Zephyr Eagle?’
‘One hell of a smart guy from what folk say. Started out with General Atomics over San Diego way, developing the Predator and that. Then afterwards he takes off to Ryan Aeronautical, works on the Global Hawk. After that he comes here to Hanford. Working just up there at Vortec.’
‘And doing what exactly?’ Do we know?’
‘Like I said, Zephyr Eagle. The autonomy tech stuff.’
‘Autonomy tech - ?’
‘Stuff that makes the drone think for itself, or that’s what the Vortec folks are tellin me. Artificial intelligence if you like.’ He shook his head, like he didn’t really get it.
‘Sounds like you’re focusing on the victim rather than the killer?’
‘Yes, ma’am, for the moment.’
Tom lowered the volume on the television and then turned to face the room.
‘So there we have it. Something. But not much.’
He paused.
‘This drone stuff changes nothing of course. It’s phoney-baloney. Our job remains the same, to find him before they do.’
He noticed a smirk on Perez’s face.
‘What’s up - ?’
‘You don’t see?’
Blank faces in the room.
‘Drones. Zephyr Eagle. It changes everything.’
Tom stared at him like he was mad. ‘Hans Dietrich can’t possibly know anything about drones. He’s stuck in the nineteen forties.’
Perez nodded. ‘Agreed. But this stuff about drones will bring in the FBI. Dead sure. And that means I can get myself officially latched onto the case.’
*
Jack was down in the ZAKRON entrance hall when Jon Perez emerged from the office.
‘Any news?’
‘That was Rayno,’ he said, slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket. ‘Asking for help. Too big for little me. That’s what he said. Need the FBI.’
‘He called you direct?’
‘Yeah. Those officers we met, Don, Cass, wasn’t it? They fessed up to letting me in the house. And Rayno gets my number from the card. And now he wants me on the case.’
‘But how does it all work? The process, I mean? You can’t just take it on like that?’
Perez lifted his cell phone from his pocket and waved it through the air.
‘All sorted. Just spoke with the boss. Reminded him I was here on leave. And now it’s official. I’m charged with investigating the murder of Ashton Brookner. This drone stuff’s freaking them.’
‘But it’s nonsense,’ said Jack.
‘Agreed. They’re heading up the wrong avenue and they’re heading up it way too fast. But that’s all good. It’s gotten me on the inside of the investigation. And the big guys want a report from me ASAP. Off to see Rayno right now. Coming for the ride?’
Jack arched an eyebrow. ‘If they’ll let me in.’
‘We’ll say you’re on secondment. From Britain, something like that. He won’t know any better. He’s just a small town troll with a fat gut and no brain.’
They took Jack’s car, drove over to the sheriff’s office on South Street. It was a low, single storey building, basked in sunshine, with a flat roof and cylindrical water tank anchored to the top. ‘Churchill County Sheriff’s Office’ was written in huge letters over the door. Underneath, Lem D. Rayno, Sheriff.
Jack pushed the door. It jingled like
an old-style candy store. The secretary was talking on the phone. She motioned to them with her left hand, signalling that she wouldn’t be long.
‘Yeah - - nuh - - yeah - - you’ll have to talk that through with Sheriff Rayno. Nuh - - you’ll appreciate he’s pretty slammed right now.’
She put down the phone, a signal for Perez to introduce himself.
‘Sergeant Jon Perez. FBI And this is Jack Raven.’
‘Ah yes. Sheriff said you’d be coming.’
She picked up the phone again.
‘Lem, they’re here.’
She stood up, pointed to a door at the end of the corridor.
‘No need to knock. He said to let yourselves in.’
They entered the room just as Rayno was swinging his feet down off his heavy wooden desk. He greeted them with a punch-bowl smile. He didn’t ask what Jack was doing there.
‘Haven’t slept in twenty-four hours.’
He shook his head then held it for a moment in his hands, like it weighed a ton.
‘Flat out since yesterday noon. Haven’t showered. Only shaved for the TV. When it’s all done and over I’m sleepin’ for a week.’
They both nodded in sympathy.
‘Was anything stolen?’ asked Jack.
‘You’re a Brit. ’ Sheriff Rayno said it more as a statement than a question.
Jack nodded. ‘On secondment. Partnered with Jon here.’
It was Rayno’s turn to nod. Then he repeated Jack’s question back to himself.
‘Anything stolen? Hard to say if things were stolen. Wallet empty. No cash in it. And clothes all over the floor.’
He turned to Perez. ‘Cass and Don told me you called at the scene. Said they didn’t know whether to let you in or not.’
‘Sorry. Shouldn’t have. But I was in town. And it was a murder.’
Rayno swept his hand through the air, a sign that it didn’t matter. ‘They’re just kids. Cass and Don. Do their best, but they’re still kids. Never even seen a stiff before.’
‘Any more leads?’ asked Perez. ‘Other than what you told the cameras.’
Rayno shook his head.
‘Whoever did this knew what he was doin’. One violent, professional bastard. No fingerprints. Not a trace of hair, blood. No fibres. Nothin’, nothin’. Forensics say he floated in, slit the poor bastard’s throat, then floated back out.’
‘What news on the search?’
‘You’ve seen the announcements? Reckon I’ve got most of Hanford picking over their sheds, garages, outbuildings.’
‘Nothing?’
‘A few leads. But nothing that adds up. So far we’ve turned up one stray dog.’
He rapped his desk hard.
‘What’s got me, what’s got all of us, is the skull. It’s a death’s head. And that’s the freakiest thing of all.’
Perez agreed. ‘Apart from the drones it’s the only real steer. My guys in Washington already on the case.’
‘Yeah,’ said Rayno. ‘Me too. What’s the first thing I do? Type it in Google. And what comes up?’
Jack, Perez, both shook their heads.
‘Here -’
Rayno tapped into his laptop then swung it round to show them the screen.
‘First item. “Death’s head is a fictional comic-book character.” Well thanks, Google, don’t need you to tell me that.
‘But look here, second item. Totenkopf. See? It’s German.’
He read from the screen. ‘The German word for the skull and crossbones. An old international symbol for death.’ What d’you make of that? Second hit on Google. Used by Hitler, it says down here. Symbol of some goddam division of the SS. Makes me think we’re dealin’ with some sort of neo-Nazi. And there’s a good number of them next door in Utah.’
Perez pulled a face, a mirror to Rayno’s doubts.
‘Was Brookner Jewish?’
‘Nope.’
A long pause.
‘Find anything else?’
‘Death’s Head gets hundreds of entries. Comics. Books. YouTube videos. But nothing that brings us closer.’
Perez leaned back in his chair and stretched his shoulders outwards.
‘Like I said, that and the drones, it’s the first line our guys in Washington have set to work on. They’re profiling him right now. Trying to build a picture. But there’s not much to go on.’
‘Nah.’
Rayno shook his head.
‘Know something, I’ve been in this job for what, seventeen years, give or take a few days. Shop-lifting. A stabbing or two. One homicide. One. In seventeen years. And never nothin like this. Those folk at Vortec are real cut up. Said Ashton Brookner was the kindest in town. Makes me feel I’m too old for this sort of shit. When it gets you here -’ he pointed to his heart - ‘really gets you, maybe it’s time to quit.’
Jack gave a sympathetic nod.
‘We’ll find the killer. Always get them in the end.’
‘Yeah, maybe. But in between times I’ve got a whole town that’s going to be shakin’ in their beds tonight.’
*
It was just after four thirty when Jack and Tammy turned into Avery Drive, Green Diamond. The sun was passed its height but still shining hard. Jack squinted through his sunglasses.
‘Seems odd,’ said Tammy, trying hard to place herself in the normal world. ‘Ferris Clark. Can’t imagine him walking down this dusty old street, going home to mom each night. Good college boy with his smart suit and little round glasses.’
They passed a disused trailer, a dented pick-up, a worn tractor tyre coated in yellow dust.
‘Maybe it was different back then,’ she said, filling the silence. ‘Proper ranches, well kept, not this junk-yard.’
Jack stopped the car at the end of the drive, stepped out. Tammy followed suit, closing the car door quietly. She pulled out the small notepad she had in her pocket, flicked through it.
‘What were these guys called?’ Thought I’d written it down.’
‘Larry, wasn’t it?’ said Jack. ‘The guy with the spanner. But doesn’t look like they’re home.’
They made their way up the dusty path that led to the front door. Rang the bell. Silence.
‘No one here.’
Tammy rang it for a second time. She half expected to hear a dog bark, some sign of life within.
‘It was all open last time.’
A voice came from behind them, from the far side of the fence.
‘Yeah - ? Hello - ?’
Jack spun round.
‘Can I help? You lookin’ for -’
‘Come to see Larry,’ said Jack. ‘We came last week.’
The neighbour shook his head.
‘Not here. Gone to Indianapolis. Goes every year to see Des and Su. That’s his daughter. And the kids too. Not back till, oh, next Tuesday I think they said.’
‘Ah.’
‘Anything that can’t wait?’
Jack shook his head.
‘No.’
The neighbour brushed his hand through the air, as if to suggest that everything in the world could wait a week. Then he paused, rooted to the ground for a second, before shifting closer to the fence.
‘Did you come last night?’
‘Why?’
‘Dogs started barking, that’s all. Ten-ish or thereabouts. So I take myself outside. Go round with the flashlight. Take a tour of the yard. Could’ve sworn there’s someone.’
A hawkish, grey-haired woman emerged from behind him.
‘Who’s it, Bob?’
‘Some folks come lookin’ for Larry.’
The woman stared at Tammy then at Jack.
‘Just tellin’ ’em how the dogs barked last night.’
She nodded, looked at them more sharply.
‘Ten wasn’t it? You went out with the flashlight.’
‘And - ?’
‘Nah, nothin. Coyote maybe. Had a few here recent times. Go for the trash. But strange. Dogs never bark at night. Not less someone’s there.�
��
He scratched his head again.
‘Took a walk, just in case. Larry’d do the same for me. But it was all quiet. If it was a coyote it just scampered.’
*
Jack was thinking it through as they made their way back to the car. Ferris Clark. With Sergeant Perez on the investigation they could get access to the house and check it out, even with the owners away. But they needed to do it without alerting the neighbour. And the dogs would be a problem.
He turned the key in the ignition, put the car into drive. Then he swung left out of Avery Street and into Mountain View Drive. He was about to ask Tammy something when her phone rang.
‘No - No - No –‘
‘What is it,’ said Jack.
‘Shit, shit -’
She pointed sharp left. ‘Head this way. And fast. We’re going to Douglas Street.’
‘Why? What’s up?’
‘Two more murders.’
TWENTY-FOUR
Jack and Tammy arrived at the house just minutes after Perez. Sheriff Rayno was pacing the front lawn, looking as if he was searching for clues in the grass. He glanced up, gave a vague half wave toward Jack. He looked curiously deflated, his life-blood steadily seeping away. The blue-grey bags under his eyes hung heavy and low, giving him the air of a tired bulldog.
Perez was standing in the porch of the house. Seeing Jack and Tammy, he walked across to them.
‘This is the very last thing we need,’ he said, stating the obvious.
‘You been inside yet?’
Perez nodded gravely.
‘Three guesses as to how they died.’
Jack turned to face the house, taking it all in. Detached building, stone walls, six windows on the front façade.
‘Any clues how he got in?’
Perez shook his head. ‘No trace.’
A small balcony on the first floor jutted out from the front wall. There were French double doors that led outwards from the bedroom.
‘Could have got in at the front or back. There’s windows at the side, too. But no trace. Your guess is as good as mine. For my money I’d say he got in through the balcony windows. Wide open when the neighbour found the bodies.’
Jack looked at the flowering shrub that was climbing chaotically up the outside of the house, all branches and tendrils. It needed cutting back. A single chimney crowned the top of the roof.
