But Jennings secretly believed that Cavanaugh had used up his last ‘get out of jail card’ with the force. If he fucked up again nothing could save him.
Chapter 25
Out on the highway Jennings’s cell phone went off. He reached in his pocket and looked at the caller ID before answering it. He pushed the button. “Jennings,” he said and listened for about a minute, his face darkening, his head nodding. “Right, I’ll be there in about a half hour. Make sure they all stay put. I want to talk to each one individually.” Cavanaugh was watching him intently.
“Okay,” Jennings said. “I’m on the way.” He folded his phone and threw it on the seat, hit the gas peddle and the Crown Vic leapt forward.
“What’s going on?” Cavanaugh asked.
“Got myself an interview with a rock ’n roll band,” Jennings said cheerily. “How exciting is that?”
Cavanaugh frowned intensely at Jennings. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“In time, Frank. All will be revealed in time.”
“Has it got something to do with Wolf?”
“Maybe.”
“You gonna talk to him too?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve got my reasons.”
Cavanaugh frowned. “You want me to talk to him?”
“Absolutely not. I mean it, Frank. You stay away from him.”
Cavanaugh sighed. “Why are you protecting him?”
“I’m not.”
“Seems that way to me.”
“Listen, there’s reason to what I do.”
“But you do want me to keep watching him?”
“Oh yeah, but keep your distance until I say otherwise.”
“I don’t trust the little bastard.”
“He’s not even a suspect yet,” Jennings said. “Just a person of interest, and I don’t want you blowing it. Understand?”
“Yeah, sure,” Cavanaugh said irritably. “But I still don’t trust him.” Jennings said nothing and there was a long silence between the two men. Finally Cavanaugh turned to Jennings and said, “Come on, Rick, what’s really going on here?”
Jennings sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about that case from five years ago. You know which one I’m talking about.”
Cavanaugh said nothing, but Jennings could feel the tension rising in his partner, palpable, like a throbbing sore.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jennings said.
“I don’t think you do, Rick.”
“Listen to me, Frank. I’m thinking it’s time to revisit that case.”
Cavanaugh shook his head. “No! No! No!” he said adamantly. “I am not going near that case.”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Jennings said.
“Yes we do. For Christ’s sake, Rick, it’s ancient history. Are you crazy? Are you trying to lose us our jobs?”
“If we lose our jobs then we all lose our jobs. From the medical examiner all the way up to the chief. If you remember correctly we weren’t alone in it. We were the small fish.”
“Small fish are what they use for bait,” Cavanaugh said. “Of all people, you should know how the political structure in this city works. They’ll chew us up and spit us out. I guarantee it.”
“If it comes to that, then we’ll testify in front of a grand jury. At least I will. We’ll see who gets burned. I’m sick of the politics.”
“I don’t understand,” Cavanaugh said. “Why now after all these years?”
“I think you do understand, Frank. Come on, think about it.”
When Cavanaugh didn’t answer, Jennings said, “There are two reasons. The first is obvious.”
“You think it’s the same killer, right?”
“Don’t you?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Cavanaugh said. “I don’t care. I think we should just leave it alone.”
Jennings smiled grimly, shaking his head. “I can’t do that. The one important fact that everyone seems to be forgetting is no one but a handful of us knew how she really died. The public was never made aware of the cross or the stab wounds. Remember, Frank?”
“Yeah I remember. I’m the one that found the body. But I never knew how they kept what really happened from the family.”
“Easy as pie,” Jennings said. “The cross was like an autopsy scar. All the coroner had to do was trace it, fix her up a little bit, you know, do a little cosmetic stuff and voila. Besides, families don’t usually view their dead loved ones naked.”
“Tell me exactly what happened that morning, Frank. As close as you can remember anyway.”
“We’ve been over this before, Rick.”
“I know, but it’s been a long time and I think it’s important that I hear it again.”
“You’re really going after this, huh?”
“I might.”
Cavanaugh gave a long weary sigh. “Well, okay, for one thing we weren’t looking for a body. The feds were in town. The story was that some con had escaped from a federal facility over in New York State and they’d gotten a tip that he’d come this way. It wasn’t even our case. We were just assisting. I remember they said the guy was dangerous but they wanted him alive.” Cavanaugh paused in thought.
Jennings nodded, waiting for Cavanaugh to continue.
“I just happened to be on duty that night and so Robeson gave me the okay to go along and assist. I could tell the feds were reluctant but they needed someone who knew the area. Christ they even brought their own dogs. The dogs picked up the scent over on the Falmouth marshes. There’s a bunch of walking trails over at Shoreline Park. We were on one of those trails. I was in the lead with two of the feds. The dogs were going nuts. We rounded a bend and there she was, dead on the ground right in the middle of the trail with that big cross cut into her chest. Christ, what a sight. The lead fed guy, I think his name was Spencer—”
“Yeah, it was Spencer,” Jennings said.
“Well, he got one look at the body and he turned white as a sheet. He warned me off. Wouldn’t let me get near it. But the way he went about it put me on guard. Something wasn’t right, so I challenged him and the bastard pulled the national security card on me. They set up a barricade and sealed the area off tighter than a bull’s ass in fly time. I was warned not to speak to anyone about what I’d seen.”
“But you told me, Frank.”
“I had to talk to someone. You were my friend. The whole thing was totally fucking bizarre. And then you went upstairs and spilled your guts to Robeson. He called me on the carpet hard. I almost lost my job.”
“Robeson and Spencer, the fed guy, sat me down and read me the riot act,” Jennings said. “Said that everything you told me was fiction, that none of it ever happened and that everything I thought I knew was a matter of national security.”
“Yeah, they told me the same thing,” Cavanaugh said. “For the fucking murder of a woman in our city. The whole thing smelled!”
“I don’t think it was about the murder, Frank. Truth is I don’t think they expected to find that body.”
“No shit. But why did they put such a tight lid on it?”
“I don’t think anyone was supposed to know about that escaped con. I think he was classified for some reason. Did you ever even hear a name?”
Cavanaugh shook his head.
Jennings adroitly maneuvered the car around a couple of vehicles parked at the side of the road. Some woman had gotten a flat and another car had stopped to help. Rain was now speckling his windshield. He turned the wipers on. They flapped hypnotically.
“The paper the next morning said that the woman had been out jogging and that she’d died of a heart attack,” Jennings said. “There was never a murder. That’s what’s so fucked up.”
Chapter 26
“You can bet Robeson knows the truth,” Cavanaugh said.
Jennings gave Cavanaugh a sidelong glance. “Yeah, he knows, all right. By the way, guess who else was in the meeting that morning?”
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Cavanaugh frowned at Jennings and shrugged his shoulders.
“This is something I’ve never told you. It’s something I’ve never told anyone.”
“Who was it?”
“Besides Spencer and the chief, the head of the Catholic Archdiocese here in Portland was there.”
Cavanaugh whistled. “You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.”
“You mean Bishop Patrick Byrne?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“Don’t have a clue, but I’ll bet it had something to do with the cross. It’s a religious thing. Byrne never said a word in the meeting, just sat and listened. And when it was over he stood up and left, and as far as I know that was the end of it. To this day I don’t know why he was there.”
“Wow. How weird is that?”
“Tell me, Frank, what else do you remember about that case?”
“The guy we were chasing,” Cavanaugh said with a sigh. “His tracks.”
“What about them?”
Cavanaugh frowned. “Guy was a giant. It was cold, man, and the fucker was barefoot.”
“And supposedly he’d come all the way here from New York State in his bare feet being pursued by federal agents.” Jennings shook his head. “I didn’t buy it then and I don’t buy it now. It’s not logical.”
“Unless he was some sort of super human.” Cavanaugh said.
“You just might have something there, Frank.”
Cavanaugh sat straight up in his seat, turned his head and glared at Jennings. “What the hell are you getting at?”
“Oh, I don’t know, but I’ve been thinking a lot about that case recently. Tell me, Frank, did you see anyone else’s tracks around the woman’s body?”
Cavanaugh nodded. “Yeah, you know, the usual. It was a jogging trail.”
“But it was assumed that he was the murderer.”
“I guess so. But technically there was no murder, remember?”
“But there were other tracks.”
“Sure.”
“What sizes?”
“All different sizes.”
“Were they all going in straight lines as if they were walking or jogging?”
“I don’t know, Christ. I don’t remember. It was all quite confusing. But it was obvious to me that he killed her.”
“How so?”
“Well, who else...?” Cavanaugh’s voice trailed off as his mind went back five years to that cold morning in early December. “You know, come to think of it, there was another set of tracks that looked like they had been hanging out around that body. Only I remember that they were quite small, maybe a size six, six and a half, and I assumed it had to be a child so I dismissed the possibility.”
“A child?”
“Yeah, or a woman.”
Jennings nodded. “What did the feds say about it?”
“Nothing I remember. They got rid of me so I couldn’t really inspect them properly, and I didn’t hear much of what was said after that.”
“As far as we know they never caught the big guy,” Jennings said. “The trail went cold somewhere along the Falmouth shoreline. He either walked into the water or he took a boat to somewhere. They had the shoreline covered from Falmouth to Portland and he didn’t backtrack. No one saw a thing and it’s a big ocean with dozens of islands and a lot of shoreline. Think there are any similarities between that case and this one?”
“Okay, you found large footprints at the scene. That doesn’t prove anything.”
“I think it proves a lot, Frank, when you consider the rest of it. The stab wounds, the cross. Christ, man, it’s the same damned thing.”
“So do you think the big guy’s killing these women?”
“I don’t know what to think. But it sure does look like he’s back.”
“That’s why you’re keeping an eye on Wolf, isn’t it?” Cavanaugh said slyly.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, it all makes sense. That woman we found in Falmouth five years ago was just a month or so before Wolf was arrested for manslaughter, his girlfriend didn’t show up to testify at his trial because she dropped off the face of the earth, and now since he gets out of prison two more women have been killed in exactly the same way as that woman in Falmouth and it turns out he knew them both. In my book that’s four women, three dead and one missing, all connected to Wolf.”
Jennings eyed Cavanaugh suspiciously. “How the hell do you know he knew them both?”
“I’m smarter than you give me credit for, Rick. I’m the one whose been watching him, remember?”
“Oh, Christ,” Jennings said. “You recognized the dead woman, didn’t you?”
Cavanaugh grinned.
“And you never said a word.”
Cavanaugh kept on grinning.
“You know her name?”
“Amy Salinger. A little tramp. She works the clubs, hangs around Wolf. I’ve seen them leave together several times. I know he’s been pumping her.”
“Fucking hell,” Jennings said picking up his cell phone and dialing. “Yeah,” he said. “This is Jennings. The vic they just brought in. I think her name is Amy Salinger. Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Check it out.” He threw the phone angrily on the seat. “God damn it, Frank. What the fuck’s the matter with you? You should have said something sooner.”
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of the men. Remember, you asked me to watch Wolf on the sly.”
“Yeah, that’s right, Frank, I did. But we’ve been having ourselves a merry little chat here for fifteen fucking minutes and you didn’t say a word.”
“I just did, Rick. Christ, get off my case.”
Jennings backed off. He stayed silent for a long moment but he was seething inside, bothered by Cavanaugh’s deceit. Spooked was more like it. Why the hell had he waited so long to mention this? Something smelled.
“You think anyone besides you and me has made the connection between these murders and that one five years ago?” Cavanaugh said in a lighter tone.
“They all have,” Jennings said. “Robeson, the church, and if my guess is correct then we’ll be hearing from the feds sometime soon.”
“But I’ll bet no one else but you and I have made the Wolf connection.”
“There is no connection,” Jennings said.
Cavanaugh’s face twisted into an ugly sneer. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course there is. Wolf knew both those girls.”
“That proves nothing. They were club girls. Lot’s of people knew them. And there’s absolutely no evidence Wolf knew that murdered woman five years ago.”
“Maybe no evidence, but I have a little secret I’ve been keeping all these years.”
Jennings gave Cavanaugh a sidelong glance. “Jesus, Frank. What the hell now?”
“I was working vice back then, you know.”
“I know. Get to the point.”
“About six months before she died Jennifer Colvin began hanging around Wolf’s band.”
“Jesus,” Jennings said. “She knew him?”
“Yeah she knew him. He was a babe magnet. Still is, the little bastard. In fact his following is bigger than ever.”
“Yeah but he was living with Siri Donavon back then,” Jennings said. “And supposedly he was madly in love with her.”
“Listen,” Cavanaugh said. “I never could ascertain whether he actually had a relationship with Jennifer Colvin or not, but he did know her. You bet your ass he did.”
“Are you sure about this, Frank?”
“Absolutely.”
“Why didn’t you say something before now?”
“What would have been the point? Jennifer Colvin wasn’t murdered, remember? She died of a heart attack. And there was absolutely no significance to it until the body of Janet Owen was found with a cross carved on her. And then Wolf became a person of interest, and well, you know the rest.”
“That certainly does put a different slant on things, doesn’t it?”
“Yep, it sure does.” Cavanaugh smiled with satisfaction. “What are you going to do now?”
Jennings shook his head frowning. “I’ll tell you when I figure it out. But I’ll bet they’re shitting in their knickers right now.”
“Who?”
“All of them, the feds, the chief, the archdiocese. They all thought it ended five years ago when they conspired to cover up the truth about the way that young woman died. Well, guess what? It just came back and bit them all on the ass. No way can they cover it up this time. That guy who took pictures of the last victim and posted them on the internet, well, he blew their dirty little secret right out of the water. You read the papers. The press is running with this, and now because of the internet it’s gone viral.”
“Yeah, but unless someone makes a connection between that case and these new ones no one will ever know the difference. Don’t forget, the press didn’t know anything about that murder.”
“Exactly,” Jennings said with a sly smile.
“Wait a minute. You’re not thinking...?”
“I just might be.”
“No, man, you can’t do that. You’ll put my ass in a sling.”
“I won’t mention any names. You can count on that, Frank. But I for one would love to see a few assholes crucified down in front of city hall.”
Apocalypse Island Page 9
