Despite the demands of work, I always made time for Caroline. In the evenings, when I returned home from work, she’d greet me at the door with a kiss. That loving embrace made my day complete, no matter how tired I felt. In our spare time on the weekends we toured the city. We enjoyed the many fine restaurants, museums, plays and concerts. We liked to shop together and enjoyed the many entertainment venues and events taking place throughout the city.
The next day Colonel Richards called to inform me on the progress of the trap we’d set. So far, nothing much to report. Undercover agents were still positioned throughout the rail lines of the city, looking for that mysterious street vendor. Surveillance cameras kept a watchful eye on the target areas outside the rail stations. All the suspect had to do now was show up, then we’d spring the trap.
While we continued to wait, it occurred to me that our suspect may never show. More out of nervous anticipation than anything else, I began sketching out plan B. The Bureau kept checking for explosive materials bought in the past several years, but no new leads surfaced. Given the current lull in the bombings, the Bureau believed that the Shadow was planning a big event for the upcoming holidays. City politicians and law enforcement officials felt it necessary that citizens remain vigilant to prevent a citywide catastrophe. Mayor Cannel went on television several times, insisting that people report any suspicious activity or individuals to the authorities. I didn’t believe another bombing was imminent. I felt that we were on the right track in our own investigation, and in no danger of suffering another terrible loss of human life.
The frustration of waiting burdened everyone at the Bureau with irritation. Tempers were short at work. I encouraged calm. Others wanted action, but what action could we take? We needed to wait, despite the madness and frustration of inactivity. I consulted with Agent Smythe and my boss in the conference room. After much heated discussion, we decided to cajole the Shadow Stalker out from the safety and anonymity of the darkness. We spread stories in the media, hoping to catch his attention. We reported that his capture would be coming soon. We peppered our writing about the terrorist with words and phrases we felt would elicit an angry response from him. We were hoping he’d feel there was a score to settle with the investigative agents at the Bureau. I felt confident he’d grab the bait and strike back, but several days passed and nothing happened. Many agents, including Colonel Richards, were frustrated by his reaction to our vitriolic taunts of him in the newspapers. I too was puzzled why there wasn’t a response from the killer.
After many days of waiting, I thought it reasonable to take a few days off. I desperately needed a vacation from the stress at work and wanted to spend more time with Caroline. We were both busy and hadn’t spent much time with each other in almost a week. Colonel Richards reluctantly approved my request. I asked him to keep me abreast of any new developments in the case. I could always cut my vacation short if need be. I called Caroline and told her the news. She was elated and spoke to her boss. He told her that she could have a few days off, but that she needed to work the next day to finish several orders that needed to get delivered. She had tried to get another employee to do that work, but it was useless.
I arrived home at Highgate in the late afternoon, intending to spend the next several days here in the apartment with Caroline. I showered, shaved and grabbed a cold beer out of the fridge. Soon I greeted Caroline at the door of my apartment with open arms, wearing a smile and in my underpants. She looked at me and laughed. “James, for God’s sake, please put on a bathrobe.”
I complied. We hugged and kissed, just like we did in the old days. She went upstairs and showered. Meanwhile I got dressed. Our dinner reservations were set for 7:30. I checked my phone messages while she was getting dressed. Colonel Richards had called and told me not to worry about the case. I appreciated his understanding.
Caroline and I enjoyed a superb dinner at Gorham’s Bistro in midtown. This elegant eatery was beautifully decorated inside with white tablecloths and wonderful candlelit silver-place settings. The interior of the dining room was quite colorful, decorated in hues of pale orange and purple, with exposed white brick and dark curtains. Many paintings hung on the walls. Our gourmet dinner soon arrived and was cooked to perfection. We shared an expensive bottle of red wine.
It was a cool and crisp late fall night. The stars were clearly visible in the night sky. We paused for a moment on the street to look up into the heavens. The outside temperature had dropped off considerably. I put some kindling in the bedroom fireplace and ignited the logs. Soon there was a roaring fire. In no time, the bedroom was toasty warm. I turned on the stereo and put some relaxing background music on the record player. Caroline walked into the bedroom and started unbuttoning my shirt. I reached over and gently touched her as the rest of our clothes dropped to the floor. I took her hand and we got into my comfortable king bed. We listened to a riff of soulful music while watching the blazing fire. The flames from the burning wood in the fireplace produced shadows that danced around the bedroom. It felt exciting holding Caroline’s warm, naked body next to mine.
The loving light from Caroline’s green eyes twinkled like the stars in the clear night sky. We started kissing in bed. The oils from her subtle perfume and body musk intoxicated me. Her skin, bathed in the orange glow from the fire, was seductive. Caroline’s deep kisses made me hunger for more. Her exploring tongue wrestled with mine. Her soft, wet lips began caressing my body while my lips caressed hers. My strong fingers stroked her skin, massaging the areas that seemed tight and filled with tension. We continued kissing. The gentle music from the stereo played softly in the background while we made love. “Oh, Jimmy, I love you so much,” she whispered. With my tongue and fingers, her experience became quite enjoyable. Suddenly she became aggressive, thrusting her tongue deeply against mine. I felt her steamy breath all over me, as I grabbed her naked body. I knew what she liked best and gave it to her in spades. Her loud cries of pleasure filled the bedroom. With her wine-soaked lips slightly parted, she worked me over as I lay on the bed. She was expert at producing the intense feelings I craved. The momentum of oral sex had reached a feverish pitch, and I had to wave her off. Now I was buried deep within her as she began rocking her hips back and forth. She continued to grind her body forcefully into mine. As I looked up, I saw in her expression a grimace; tiny beads of sweat appearing on her face, neck and flushed chest. We quickly changed positions. She put her legs on my shoulders for deeper penetration. I started thrusting hard, watching her trembling body, as she yelled out, “Goddammit, bitch, fuck me harder, Jimmy.” Our hearts kept beating louder and faster. The tight rhythm started to take our breath away. For a few moments longer, our pounding hearts and sweaty bodies rocked on the firm mattress, until my lover’s cries completely filled the bedroom.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next day, Colonel Richards called early in the morning. He asked how my vacation was going. I told him that I recently reconnected with my old girlfriend. He was happy for me. We chatted a bit. Unfortunately, there was no further progress in the subway stakeout or in discovering the identity of our suspect. I asked him to keep me posted of any new developments, and that I’d see him in a few days.
Caroline was already up. She was dressed in a colorful blue and green outfit and made breakfast for herself. She had to be at work early, so she could finish up the orders that needed to be shipped out. After that, we’d have several days to ourselves. Christmas was fast approaching, and the boutique where she worked was swamped with orders. She grabbed a mug of hot coffee and headed out the door to the nearby rail station. After she left my apartment, I fell back to sleep. Eventually I got up and made breakfast, then got dressed. I was emotionally exhausted from a heavy work schedule, and it felt good to be on vacation. I took my time reading the morning newspaper. Nothing much had happened in the city. I thought about last night with Caroline. What a wonderful gift to have her back in my life. It felt great to be in love again, and I didn’t feel alone or
unhappy anymore.
Later in the day I planned to go food shopping. I wanted to cook a romantic dinner. It certainly wouldn’t be as good as the gourmet food we enjoyed eating, but I could always spice up the meal afterwards with a little sex. I cleaned up the apartment and put on some music. Both of us really enjoyed listening to all kinds of music. For a while, she was a real jazz nut. John Coltrane was her favorite. I enjoyed a wide variety of music including classical, with a particular liking for string music, especially the violin. In my youth, I taught myself how to play it. In the evenings, I’d put music on the stereo and Caroline, and I would play word games, or chess. Caroline was a tigress on the chessboard. We were evenly matched, but sometimes I’d let her win if I knew she had an exhausting day. Other times she was quite capable of cleaning my clock.
It was early afternoon. I decided to go for a long walk in the park before driving to the market. It was a cold day and I was looking for my heavy coat when the phone rang. It was Colonel Richards. He told me that he had something important to show me downtown at headquarters, and I needed to come right away. He apologized for interrupting my vacation but stressed the urgency of his request. The romantic dinner I’d planned for Caroline would have to wait. At the Bureau, the Colonel stood in the doorway of his private office. “You’ll never guess what we found,” he said.
“I don’t suppose I could. What is it?” I asked.
“Take a look at this and tell me what you think.”
He handed me a large bouquet of cut flowers.
“What’s this? Colonel, you aren’t gay?”
He looked at me and laughed out loud, wiping the tears from his eyes. “No, Jim, but please have a closer look.”
I carefully examined the bouquet of flowers, and soon realized that I was holding a wired flower bomb, complete with a rudimentary detonator and timer. There were no explosives attached to the device. “This is interesting,” I said.
“Yeah, we found this device two hours ago. One of our agents found it in the landfill outside the city limits, near the old Acme Industrial Park. We got it back from the lab just a few minutes ago. I thought you might be particularly interested in this because you’ve been pushing that flower bomb angle.”
“What did the lab find?”
“Nothing much,” he said with his characteristic nasal gruffness.
“I’d like to take this device home to my workshop, with your permission.”
“Certainly, Jim, but please be careful with it. We may need to do additional analysis on it.” He laughed.
The Colonel was joking, of course. The Bureau’s lab had the most sophisticated detection equipment in the world. He probably thought nothing of my desire to take the device home and analyze it further. While packing up the device, I couldn’t help but feel like one of the Colonel’s bumbling and incompetent investigators: always behind the eight ball and chewing on a mouthful of dust courtesy of the Shadow Stalker.
While driving home, I was puzzled by the fact that Colonel Richards didn’t seem to recognize the value and importance of this device. This wasn’t just another piece of evidence. What it represented, if authenticated, was a substantial confirmation of what I’d been working on for several weeks. It represented a major break in the case. I kept wondering why the terrorist would endanger himself by throwing out a failed attempt in a public place.
Soon I arrived home. I took the device out of its protective box and examined it thoroughly. Since the lab had already done an exhaustive and detailed examination, it was my conclusion that the meticulous men in the lab probably hadn’t missed anything. I carefully examined the device and took many pictures. The bomb, without attached explosives, closely matched one of the two prototypes I constructed in the lab. I could clearly see into the mind of the bomber. A rather intelligent fellow, I’d say, with a mind similar to my own.
How would the bomber construct this package to escape detection, if the bomb were to fall into the hands of the police? Here, the killer seemed to agree with me in its method of construction. I’d assemble the bomb in pieces, using parts that couldn’t be traced back to me. For that purpose, I’d visit a dump or landfill, and construct the parts needed to build the bomb from junk that I found there, taking extra care so that no trace of my body was anywhere on the device. I’d be particularly attentive to body hair or tiny flecks of loose skin that could provide DNA evidence.
After finishing my examination, I felt this device was made by the killer. I was absolutely confident that I was correct in my thinking about how these crimes were committed. That lone street vendor was our primary suspect. I paused again to reflect. Why did the bomber make this potentially lethal device, only to throw it out before it was completed?
After returning from the lab in the early afternoon, I spoke briefly to Caroline. I told her that I’d be busy in my workshop during the day with an unexpected development at work. I suggested it might be good to make a dinner reservation for tonight. She chose Lagunda’s Bistro at 8:00 p.m., since she had to work late before going on vacation. When I finished my work, I wanted to make myself presentable. The hot shower felt really good after spending most of the afternoon in my workshop. I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I looked at myself in the full-length bathroom mirror. Who was this six-foot, 200-pound naked man staring back at me with a smile on his face? I was satisfied with my lean and muscular proportions. I was a strong and virile forty-two-year-old man who had a penchant for jeans and loose-fitting tops when I was relaxing from work. After toweling myself off, I walked into the bedroom and got dressed for my highly anticipated dinner engagement with Caroline.
Our rendezvous at Lagunda went without a hitch. Our dinner was delicious; the “wild” fish entrees on the menu were incredible. Caroline and I engaged in light dinner conversation. By now I was in love. Caroline’s smile and loving eye contact was just what I needed at the end of a long day of grueling work. I reached over and held her hand. It was soft with a tender touch. I stroked her face and hair. One of these days I’d summon the courage to pop the question. Tonight, we just enjoyed each other’s company at this expensive, upscale restaurant.
After our lovely candlelit dinner, we talked about plans for the weekend. Caroline mentioned Sherbourne by the Sea. We both really loved that place. For dirt-cheap money, renters got a furnished cabin with a working fireplace. It did sound wonderfully romantic but going would depend on new developments with the case. My vacation was coming to an end, and I wanted to spend the weekend there with Caroline. It was such a beautiful area.
We were now enjoying regular sex, mostly in my apartment. Our newfound love continued to blossom. When we were married, it would be necessary to decide on our home. Neither one of us would want to give up our apartment.
At the boutique where Caroline worked, the orders kept piling up. She quickly got dressed and had a bite to eat, then walked to the rail station. As she was about to leave, she smiled and blew me a kiss from across the room. I smiled back. I got dressed and visited the lab at the Bureau. I spoke to several colleagues concerning the ongoing Shadow Stalker investigation. Afterwards I met with Colonel Richards, Bob Smythe and several other lead investigators working the case. Agent Madison was out in the field on special assignment. He was gathering more evidence at recent bomb sites. We all met in the large conference room in the Waverly Building.
We immediately got down to business. I looked at my boss. “Are you positive, Colonel Richards, that nothing in that flower bomb is traceable to our suspect?”
“The lab did a thorough analysis on every detail of that device and found nothing. I might add that you came to the same conclusion in your own analysis as well,” he said.
Because there wasn’t any explosive attached to the device found in the landfill, we were all baffled as to where to go from here. My boss wore a grim countenance, sitting pensively behind his desk and looking out the window. He kept blowing cigar smoke around the room. He then picked up some papers from the lab report and re
viewed their analyses. “Goddammit, there has to be something in these reports we can use.”
I continued watching the other men in the room. We were all a little perplexed, not knowing what to do next. The Colonel looked at me, then spoke. “That primitive detonator and timer on the device is something you could build from a parts bag at Radio Shack.”
“Yeah, I know.” Disappointment was on my face. My boss looked around the large room, then started puffing away on his cigar. Blank and empty faces continued to stare at each other. “Colonel,” I asked, “what about the stakeouts at the rail stations around the city? Has the Bureau discovered anything?”
He blew more cigar smoke around the room. “Nothing yet, although we are closely monitoring the areas where the vendors hang out.”
“I think we need to search the immediate area outside the rail stations. Our suspect may be hiding there,” I said.
Agent Smythe observed that the suspect was seen in full view on surveillance video on all but the first subway bombing. This suggested that our suspect didn’t have to hide. The Colonel nodded. After some brief conversations the tense meeting ended. I stuffed some papers inside my briefcase and left the room.
I went back to the lab. I needed to review several reports. Fortunately, the time flew by. I couldn’t wait to get home and see Caroline. Before leaving for the day, I spoke briefly with the Colonel.
“Everyone at the Bureau is working very hard to get this guy. We’ll get him eventually,” the Colonel said.
Suddenly I turned to my boss and stared with puzzling curiosity. “Isn’t it true that all of the street vendors operating throughout the city needed a picture ID license to operate?”
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