Okay, I thought to myself. Here goes nothing.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. We’ve had a quadruple homicide here, and it seems to have Satanic overtones. Believed to be similar to one you people had a few years back.”
“How do you know it’s similar?”
“VICAP.”
“We had three victims.”
“I know.”
“Main suspect committed suicide. Second suspect never identified. Satanic motive, revenge, some problem with two of the three victims snitching off some of the others. At least, they apparently thought they had.”
“Okay.”
“Bloody fuckin’ mess, I tell you no lie. Really severely mutilated those people. Fucked my partner’s previous partner up so bad he took a psych disability.”
“That bad?”
“Was to him. So how does Rothberg fit into your case?”
“I’m not sure yet. But the connection is there, as far as I can tell.”
“Well, we had him connected on the side. I’ve got the file right here.” There was a brief pause. “Just a second here … By the way, my partner and his previous were the case officers, like I said, and this Rothberg broad was a big part of his ex-partner getting his disability … Here it is, yeah, Mark William Rothberg, and Elizabeth Frances Rothberg. Née Killian. It was her brother who committed suicide—Philip Killian.”
“Her brother?” Jesus. “You sure?”
He was insulted. “Unless she lied. And it doesn’t sound like anybody would claim the little shit unless they had to.”
“Okay.”
“My partner said she just couldn’t believe it. Her husband could, but she couldn’t. Hired a private dick to try to prove we set it up after they found his body. Because we wanted to solve the homicides, she claimed. Planted the evidence. Bullshit.”
“Yeah.”
“But she kept it up for three, four months. Regular pain in the ass.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Got her uncle and her sister involved, too, I guess … whole fuckin’ family is nuts. Anyway, my partner says she finally gave up. So you got her out there?”
“Yeah.”
“Giving you any trouble? Hey, I read about your murders, I think. Our paper didn’t say anything about Satanism, though. Sure I did. Last week, about?”
“Yeah. Well, we’re trying to hold the lid on the Satanic stuff right now. Our local newspeople have hit on it, but there’s not been too much on the national media, at least not yet.”
“Well, just wait, buddy. Just wait.”
“Yeah.”
“Good old Betty giving you any trouble?”
“Rothberg? No, not at all.”
“Well, don’t let her get started. She’ll bug you to death.”
“Yeah.”
“You want a copy of our file? I can fax it to you real quick.”
“Uh, we don’t have any fax equipment. Let me check with the state—they might have something that can be used.”
“Okay.”
“Your name is …”
“Detective Tony Calumus.”
“Okay. Could I talk to your partner?”
“He’s not here right now, but I think you can in about an hour or so. I’ll have him call you.” I could almost see the grin. “It’s his favorite fuckin’ case.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Well, okay, hey, thanks for the help.”
“No problem. Maybe you can clear this one for us. I sure would like to get the son of a bitch who did it here.”
“Me too.”
“Well, good luck. Don’t get discouraged. Keep at ’em.”
“Oh, yeah. Too dumb to give up.”
“Yeah.”
I hung up the phone. Son of a bitch.
I went out to the kitchen to get some more coffee. It was all gone. Reserves. I put on another pot, and while I was waiting, I sat down at dispatch.
“Something wrong?”
“Not really. Not at all, in fact.”
“You look funny,” said Sally.
“Maybe I do …”
“You’re sure as hell distracted. Perk up!” She lowered her voice. “Is it about the Rothbergs?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t say anything. Neither did I.
“I put on another pot of coffee. You want some?” I asked.
“Yeah, I guess so, it’s only one-thirty.”
“Okay. And why don’t you call one of the state agents at the motel—I’m gonna have to talk to ’em.”
“Which one?”
“Better make it Hester.”
When I came back in with two cups, she had her on the phone. And both reserve officers were standing at the console.
“I’ll take it in the back room.”
The first thing that Hester said was “This better be good.” She sounded pretty sleepy, her voice very soft, but raspy at the same time.
I told her what I had found out. And how. Started with the how, and sort of let it build. I was pretty proud of myself, actually.
“You’ve got to be kidding?”
“Nope.”
“Holy shit.” There were muffled scrambling sounds in the background as she got out of bed. “We’ll be in five to ten. Minutes. I’ll call Hal.”
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna call Saperstein, too. Maybe you should call Lamar?”
“Will do,” I said.
I sat back. Well, here we go again. Entropy. Increases.
I called Lamar and told him. He wasn’t as excited as Hester, but he sure was interested.
“Just make damned sure, before you do anything.”
“You bet.”
“Art’s off tonight, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, look, if things start to happen, call him in.”
“Okay.”
“Good luck, dumb shit.”
“Thanks, Lamar. Do I get a raise?”
“You’ll be lucky if I keep paying you.”
29
Monday, April 29
02:04 hours
When the troops were assembled, they asked me to run it by them again. I did. Step by step.
“We better get that file from Cleveland,” said Hal, when I’d finished.
“We have fax at the CR office,” said Hester. “I can call down and get it ready.”
“Okay,” said Hal. “When you get it set up, let me know, and we’ll call Cleveland. I want to talk to this Calumus myself. And especially his partner.”
“Right,” said Hester.
“And let’s get somebody up at the lab. We need those blood samples today.”
As a matter of routine, Hester had obtained subpoenas for blood and saliva samples of all the members of the cult we had arrested. Just to make sure that one of them hadn’t killed the four. They weren’t back yet.
“That ought to piss ’em off,” said Hester.
Hal shrugged. “If I have to call the director, I will. If he has to call the governor, he will. You might tell ’em that.”
Hester smiled. “I might have to.” She slurped her coffee. “God, who made this shit?”
I confessed.
“Whoa, this is bad.”
“Hey, it’s guaranteed to keep you up for twenty-four hours.”
“Sure as hell ought to.”
While she called the on-call lab agent in Des Moines, who was at home, and began to convince him to go to the office to get the samples done, I made a quick trip to the rest room. Hester was still on the phone when I came out.
“No, today. By ten A.M.…That’s right, today … Hey, Hal says he’ll call the director if he has to. The governor, too … Yeah, he’s serious. Dead serious … Well, if that’s what it takes …”
She looked up at Hal, the dead phone hanging in her hand.
“You better be ready to call the director.”
“Why?”
“ ’Cause that’s what he says it’s gonna take.” She smiled.
“Son
of a bitch!” Hall picked up the phone and dialed a number.
“Sir, Agent Greeley, I’m sorry to bother you … Yes, sir, I know … Sir, we need something from the lab today … Yes, I know, that’s true, but we need it today … Well, I think we may be able to conclude this case today or tomorrow if we can get that stuff from the lab … Yes, sir, I think we might … Yes, sir, just a moment …”
He gestured frantically at Hester. “Gimme that tech’s number.”
“Okay, sir, here it is,” he said, and gave him the technician’s home number in Des Moines. “Thank you, sir … Yes, okay, I will, as soon as I know … Thank you again.
“Well,” he said, pleased, “we ought to get action now.”
“You didn’t tell him that if he couldn’t get results, he was supposed to call the governor,” said Hester. “I really wanted to hear that.”
“Fuck you, Hester,” Hal said without malice.
“You couldn’t get that lucky, Greeley.”
He shook his head. “Probably not. Your loss.”
“That’s not what your wife says.”
“You got that fax set up yet?”
“Shut up—who am I, your secretary?”
She picked up the phone and made the call to the Cedar Rapids office.
“After I talk to this Calumus, Carl,” said Hal, “we’ll decide what to do about the Rothbergs. I’d like to talk to them, and as soon as we can.”
“Good.”
I looked at my watch: 03:50. “He should be up by seven, I’d guess.”
Hester hung up the phone. “Fax is set to go. We’ll work out a 10–5 with the troops to bring it up as soon as it’s here.”
“Okay,” said Hal. “Let’s call Calumus and get it coming.”
He placed the call, and appeared to be receiving the same information I had, when the intercom buzzed. Sally wanted to know if it was all right if Traer could have a copy of the current Criminal Code and volume 4 of “Iowa Practice,” covering criminal law and procedure.
“Now?”
“Yes. He says he can’t sleep.”
“Okay, I’ll get them in a minute. Just be sure it’s not a trick to get you back there—in fact, I’ll give them to him, okay?”
“Very fine with me.”
“Wait a minute,” said Hester. “Traer is up now?”
“Yeah, sounds like it.”
“Just a minute … I’ve got an idea,” said Hester. “Just wait till Hal’s off the phone.”
We waited. I went into Lamar’s office and got the two volumes Traer had requested and set them on the counter. Hal got off the phone with Cleveland, and Hester put the proposition to him.
“Look, why don’t we get Traer back here and just tell him most of what’s going on. No names or anything. But the general information. Maybe, if we tell him that he’s got a killer after the whole group, and one who’s done it before, maybe he’ll let us know where Rachel is.”
Hal looked surprised. “No way.”
“I think it’ll work,” said Hester.
“He won’t say shit,” said Hal.
“May I say something?” Saperstein finally spoke.
“Sure.”
“Traer’s an intelligent man. Well, an attorney, but still … If you lay out most of the case against him regarding the sacrifice of the child, and let him know the details, and then ask his cooperation with finding the man who killed his group, and let him know that there is no evidentiary connection between the crimes, he might go along with it. He might.”
“No,” said Hal. “He’ll never tell us about Rachel’s location. She’s his best contact on the outside, and hiding her has become a game with him. He’ll never go along with it.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Can I say something?” I asked. It was, after all, our case.
“Sure,” said Hal politely.
“Traer’s probably going to bond out tomorrow—he has considerable resources. We know that. Once he’s out, he’s vulnerable, and Rachel no longer has much importance, except to bolster his ego within the group by keeping her from us. But she’s the key to his survival, if this guy is really after him. She can identify the killer. And he’s the key to Rachel.”
Silence.
“And,” I continued, “after he’s out on bond, we won’t get another shot at him until the trial for the murder of little Cynthia. That could be as much as a year from now. And even if we ID the killer by interviewing the Rothbergs, if he doesn’t confess, he walks. We have no compelling physical evidence except the blood chemistry, and the county attorney won’t charge based on that alone. I know he won’t. But if we have Rachel able to ID the killer, we can sure as hell hold him on that. And we can probably offer Rachel immunity on the murder of her kid, anyway. ’Cause you know as well as I do that she’ll claim coercion by the group and that she’ll play the offended mother who was duped.”
That may have been a mistake, I thought. The bit about Rachel testifying against Traer. I should have kept my mouth shut there.
“I agree with Carl,” said Hester.
Hal looked at her for a second. Then at me. “Well, it’s your county,” he said.
Meaning that he was going to oppose, and that if it didn’t work, it would be my responsibility. Meaning that he was passing the decision “down,” as it were, and challenging me at the same time. He probably didn’t think that I’d be able to make the decision and that he’d win by default.
“You’re right,” I said. “I’ll go get him. Hester, how about you and me and Mr. Saperstein doing the talking? If it’s all right with you,” I said, looking at Hal. He was the case officer, after all. If we were going to play little games here, we might as well go all the way.
“Okay by me,” said Hal. No choice. “Good luck.” He didn’t mean it.
“Thanks.” I didn’t mean that, either. “Let’s talk to him in the kitchen, near the coffee. Why don’t I meet you in there?”
Hester and Saperstein went to the kitchen, and I walked back into dispatch and got the cell keys from Sally.
“We’re gonna talk with Traer, as long as he’s up,” I said. “I’m going to be 10–6 as hell, so if any calls come in, give ’em to somebody else.” I have to admit that I was also a little pissed about Hal talking to Calumus and asking the same questions that I had already asked him. The fact that I wanted to talk to the partner, and original case officer, also rankled. Then, again, I was pleased about him getting the same answers. It’s always been a little problem, the state people not thinking that the county people are really competent. And this “county people” was currently hoping that they were wrong.
I got back to the cell area, and Traer was sitting at the table in the bull pen.
He got up and came toward me. “The little redhead afraid of me? Think I might corrupt her, or cast a spell?” He was smiling, but the question was serious. He probably thought he could.
“Nope.” I unlocked the door, and his eyes widened a little bit. “Come on out, Oswald, my boy. I want to talk to you.”
Traer came out, but he was suspicious. “What about?”
“Tell you when we get to the kitchen.”
I stood aside, placing him in front of me. “Take the first left, and go where I say.”
He didn’t reply, but followed orders. It had probably crossed his mind that I could be taking him out to beat him up or something. If it had, he didn’t let it show. I directed him to the kitchen, and I could tell by his walk that he relaxed just a bit when he saw Hester.
“Have a seat,” I said. “This is Hester Gorse, Iowa Division of Criminal Investigation.”
“How do you do, my dear?”
Hester just looked at him.
“And this is Detective Saperstein, New York Police Department.”
Traer stuck out his hand. Saperstein shook it.
“What brings you here?” asked Traer. He appeared a little flattered and a little intrigued. He obviously felt that he was the reason for Sap
erstein’s presense. He was, of course, correct.
“You,” said Saperstein.
“I hate to disappoint you, Detective Saperstein, but I’ve never been to the Big Apple.”
“We haven’t missed you, Mr. Traer.”
I finished stuffing a pillow into the small connecting port between the cells and the kitchen, where the food was passed in to the prisoners, and where they had been seen on occasion with their ears pressed, listening to conversations in the kitchen. “Coffee?” I asked all around.
Hester helped pour. Some indication of her intense interest, because normally I don’t think she would have. She was beginning to play a role, I thought. It sure wouldn’t hurt if Traer considered her a subservient woman.
We cozied up around the table. Since I was “in charge,” I felt it would be best if I started the conversation in the right direction.
“Oswald,” I said.
“Please call me Link,” he said. “My middle name is Lincoln, and I prefer that.”
“Okay, Link. We have some information, and so do you. We’d like to trade some data.”
“I probably won’t be able to help you, but go ahead. It should be interesting, if nothing else.”
So far so good. “I know you’re aware of your rights, but I’ll tell you, anyway,” I said. I recited Miranda.
“Very good,” said Traer. “You do that well.”
“Thank you. Let’s start with this. You are a Satanist.”
“Yes.”
“As such, you are probably a pragmatist as well?”
“I like to think so.”
“And, being a pragmatist, I assume you have an interest in staying alive?”
“Assuredly.”
“Well, we have a partial ID on the man who killed Phyllis and friends.”
“I would hope so.”
“Yes. The interesting thing is, we don’t know who he is. We just know about him. No positive ID.”
“How unfortunate,” he said. He was trying to suppress it, but his interest was showing. “I sincerely hope you’re not all as inept as I’ve made out for the last few years.” He smiled.
“Well, I do, too, Link. Now, I’ll let Hester tell you how much evidence we have.”
She did, taking him step by step through the lab ID process. I watched him very closely while she talked. We weren’t taking much of a chance, even if Oswald had been the perpetrator. All this would be readily available on discovery, anyway.
Eleven Days Page 22
