Nightraven

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Nightraven Page 6

by Skye Knizley


  “What is it?” Raven asked.

  He turned with a blob of something in the napkin. “I don’t know, it looks like paint. Aspen?”

  Aspen took the napkin and sniffed gingerly at the substance. “Not paint, makeup. Body paint like dancers use.”

  Levac glanced at Raven. “And you know this how?”

  “Colorado,” Raven said in unison with Aspen.

  Raven bent to examine the mark. “It almost looks like the edge of a hand or something, but there are no friction ridges.”

  She sniffed at it and detected the same strange odor from Carmichael’s shoes, earth mixed with death and decay. Not exactly the scent of strippers trying to make a buck or two.

  Aspen folded Levac’s sample into an evidence bag, then took a cleaner one and added it to her small pile of samples.

  “The thing is,” she said as she worked, “this doesn’t match what I found beneath the vic’s nails.”

  She held up another sample, which contained blobs of torn skin and what Raven was certain was blood.

  “Two attackers?”

  Aspen shrugged. “That’s your area, Ray. I’ll get Mr. Arel here to the morgue and see what Ming comes up with.”

  “Arel?” Levac pulled his notepad out and licked the end of his pen, then made a face as he realized it was a pen not a pencil. He spat then regained his composure. “Sorry, Arel?”

  Aspen was trying not to giggle. “Duncan Arel, late of The Bronx, New York. He’s in AFIS.”

  “That’s something, anyway. Any background on him?” Raven asked.

  Aspen jerked her chin at her kit and purse sitting on the floor nearby. “It’s on my tablet. He’s in the system for receiving stolen property and a minor drug charge back in ’04. Not a career criminal or anything, just a guy.”

  Raven found Aspen’s purple-covered tablet and opened the file with a swipe of her thumb. The smiling face of Duncan Arel looked up at her from his mug shot. He’d been younger than when the fake license was made, but his cocky smile was the same.

  “Arrested for receiving a truckload of stolen property and possession of marijuana, did two years’ probation and six months’ time served. Nothing in the last few years. DMV attachment says he has a place in the Bronx, like Aspen said.”

  “Nothing to indicate why he’s dead in an upscale Chicago hotel. I really hate the weird ones, Ray,” Levac said. “I hate them.”

  “It’s better than a ghost ship in the north Atlantic,” Raven said absently.

  “Got that right,” Aspen said.

  Murtaugh held up his hands. “On that note, I’m out of here. Ray, if you need any assist from the CPD, give me a call.”

  Raven smiled. “Good to see you, Lee. Talk to you soon.”

  He smiled back and stepped into the hallway. When he was gone, Raven looked at Aspen. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  “He was a fighter, Ray. Whoever killed him was strong and probably big. He also knew where to hit to hurt someone. Our vic has several broken ribs and his left knee is shattered. If he’d lived, he would never have walked again. I’m guessing the wound to his knee is when he fell on the table,” Aspen said.

  “Preternatural maybe?” Levac asked.

  Aspen chewed the inside of her lip, making them purse. “Mm… no. Not in terms of strength, anyway. Raven could have done this without going full-on vamp.”

  Levac looked relieved. “Maybe it isn’t as weird as it seems, then.”

  Raven patted him on the arm. “Sorry, Rupe, not all preternaturals are super strong. Look at Aspen, she’d have to cast a spell to break your knee, it would be quicker just to set you on fire.”

  Levac swallowed. “Thanks, Ray, I was feeling better.” He cocked his head to look at Aspen. “It wasn’t magik, was it?”

  Aspen shook her head. “No, if someone had cast a spell like that in here, it would have left some residue and it would be making my nose twitch. This was body on body contact. Someone kicked him in the knee.”

  Raven frowned and her cell phone started ringing. She glanced at the screen and held it to her here. “What’s up, doc?”

  “How long have you been waiting to say that, Agent Storm?” Asked Dr. Ming Zhu.

  “Since I was twelve. Tell me you have news, Ming,” Raven said.

  “I wouldn’t call you otherwise. I have a cause of death for you in the Carmichael case, if you’re ready,” Zhu said.

  Raven put him on speaker. “You’re on speaker, Ming, and we are waiting with baited breath.”

  “Aspen, Agent Levac, it is good to talk with you. Your victim, Ms. Carmichael, was killed by the separation of the fourth and fifth cervical vertebrae resulting in catastrophic damage to the spinal column,” Zhu said.

  “In plain English, her neck was broken,” Aspen said.

  She leaned close to Arel and examined his neck. “There is no bruising on Arel, but I can feel something between C4 and C5. How bad was it?”

  “Catastrophic, as I said. The vertebrae were shattered. I suspect what you feel in the current victim is those broken pieces, though I won’t know until I get an x-ray,” Zhu said.

  “Did you find anything else useful, doc? Do we need to come down there?” Levac asked.

  “Actually, yes. Raven, I know you don’t enjoy the morgue as much as your partner does, but you should probably see the victim up close.”

  Raven made a face at Levac. “I’ve already seen her up close.”

  “Z, Raven just turned a little green, whatcha got?” Aspen asked.

  “I can imagine,” Zhu said. “This is still better seen in person.”

  Raven sighed. “Alright, Ming, we’ll be down in a bit.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Zhu ended the call and Raven put the phone back in her pocket.

  “I’ll cancel the pasta I was going to make for dinner. How’s tofu?” Aspen asked.

  Raven gave her a look. “No tofu.”

  Aspen stood. “I promise.”

  She pulled off her gloves and snaked her arms around Raven. “Be careful out there, lover.”

  Raven kissed the top of her head. “I promise,” she echoed.

  She untangled herself and tossed her own gloves in an evidence bag. “Let’s go Rupe, Ming isn’t going to wait all day.”

  Levac added his gloves to the bag. “He would, actually. Making you throw up is probably the highlight of his day.”

  Raven put on her sunglasses. “He’s not that cruel.”

  *

  Morgue, District One, Chicago IL

  The morgue for Chicago, District One, was housed in what had once been a slaughterhouse and butcher shop. The brick building was declared a historic building in the 1980s and restored, at least on the outside, to the original brick and wood façade. Zhu’s office as well as the autopsy theater, was located in the basement where the blood drains and gutters were located, and though they had been cleaned with everything short of hydrochloric acid, Raven could still smell the old blood. The stench of decades old blood and offal hit her as soon as she started down the stairs. She gripped the railing hard enough to leave fingerprints and fought back the nausea.

  “Just like old times, Ray. You got this,” Levac said.

  Raven opened her eyes. “I’m never going to get used to that smell.”

  “You don’t have to. Here.”

  Levac held out a paper wrapped lozenge that was so powerful Raven’s eyes watered. “What the hell is that?”

  “Scottish cough drops. The old man over at Isle of Night got me onto them. One of these, you can’t smell anything for hours,” Levac said.

  Raven pushed it away. “No, thanks, I need my sense of smell.”

  The smell of blood and rotting flesh came rushing back and Raven grabbed Levac’s wrist. “On second thought.”

 
She sniffed the lozenge then stuck it in the pouch that carried her badge. It was close enough to block the smell of blood, but not close enough to ruin her legendary sense of smell.

  “Thanks, Rupe.”

  Levac smiled. “What are partners for?”

  Raven continued down the stairs. “How long have you had those?”

  “Couple years,” Levac said.

  Raven stopped. “A couple years and you’re just telling me now?”

  Levac’s smile became a lopsided grin. “It was funny.”

  “Did anyone else know?”

  “Most of the squad,” Levac said with a straight face.

  Raven shook her head. “I don’t know if that’s funny, or—”

  “Really funny, I know.”

  “Or I’m going to dangle you off the roof by your ankles,” Raven finished.

  She led the way down the hall past Zhu’s office and the light never stopped flickering no matter how many times it was repaired. Zhu’s laboratory was at the end of the hall and he was still hard at work on Domino Carmichael’s corpse. She was on the table beneath a surgical light that reflected off her pale skin.

  Dr. Ming Zhu was a small man of Indian descent, with black hair he wore slicked back from the temples and a goatee he trimmed daily, sometimes twice. He spun away from the x-rays he was examining and smiled.

  “Agents Storm and Levac, it is good to see you again, my friends. Very good, indeed. Detectives Murtaugh and Gibson don’t have your flare or talent for closing the stranger cases.”

  Raven extended a hand and was pulled into a warm hug she wasn’t sure what to do with. Zhu let her go with a smile and shook Levac’s hand. “Welcome home.”

  He turned away and angled the light away from the victim. The cuts in her skin were deep and jagged and covered her more prevalent than she’d thought when she examined her on scene. They covered her from ankles to just below her breasts in a complicated puzzle.

  “They are on her back and buttocks, as well,” Zhu said. “My assistant and I spent the last few hours cataloguing them, I just sent the file to Aspen.”

  Raven bent to look more closely. “Ming, was she alive when this happened?”

  “Sadly, yes. You can tell by the state of the skin and surrounding tissues. The discoloration you see is a dead giveaway.”

  “Good God, she suffered through all of this? That’s horrible!” Levac said.

  Zhu picked up Carmichael’s wrist and pointed at the feint bruising. “I believe she was tied down while this was done. Her restraints were padded, like the sort used to restrain hospital patients. Not tight and well-padded, but enough to keep her from escaping.”

  He put her arm down with care and patted it with a gentle hand. “Her tox screen came in a few minutes ago, there was a large amount of alcohol and secobarbital, which would have reduced her struggles and is likely why you didn’t see any signs at the scene.”

  Levac stepped closer and looked down at Carmichael. “So… the perp undressed her, did all this to her, dressed her, then took her to the dump site?”

  “Exactly, yes.”

  Levac rubbed his eyes and leaned on the table. “Any idea where she was killed, Ming?”

  “Sadly, no. There was almost no trace evidence. I found samples of the same adhesive used on duct tape. Whoever dumped her, removed as much fiber and evidence as they could,” Zhu said.

  He sat at the computer and pressed a few keys. “Harvey was able to identify what little I did find, though. It isn’t much, but it might help in some way. There were carpet fibers from a late-model Chevrolet, Pacific sea salt and a mixture of white clay and body makeup.”

  Raven looked over his shoulder at the samples on the screen. “Where in Illinois is there white clay?”

  Zhu turned and leaned over the back of his chair. “I’ve no idea, I’m sorry to say. We do have a few places that make ceramics, perhaps one of them can assist you further. I sent everything over to Aspen in case she was able to work her magic and find something we missed.”

  Raven straightened and shared a glance with Levac. “She’s known for her miracles, doc. The other vic is on his way over. Let me know what you find?”

  “Of course.”

  Raven was in the doorway when he called after her. “It’s about time Rupert shared his secret with you. If he hadn’t, I would have had to. The joke was wearing thin.”

  Raven looked at him, then back at Levac, who shrugged.

  “Did my mother know, too?” Raven asked.

  Levac opened his mouth and Raven just knew he was going to say yes. She held up one finger and said, “Don’t say it.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  887 West Fulton Market, Chicago, IL

  Levac looked at the building and read the sign aloud. “The Isaacson and Stein fish company. Why are we are a fishery?”

  “Because they’re the only importer of Pacific sea salt in Chicago. They helped me on a previous case,” Raven said.

  Isaacson and Stein was housed in an old wooden building that took up a two block section of the Market. It had been there for more than 100 years and was owned by vampires loyal to Valentina and the House Tempeste.

  Levac crossed the street and Raven followed, trying to ignore the pain behind her eyes from the morning sun. Her allergy was worse when she was tired and this wasn’t her best day ever.

  Levac stopped with his hand on the door. “Isn’t this where Sanchez shot you in the ass?”

  Raven glared so hard she knew Levac could see her eyes through her glasses. “No, and he didn’t shoot me in the ass. Are you going to open the door or caress it and make it uncomfortable?”

  Levac chuckled and pulled the door open. “After you, Agent Storm.”

  The lobby was large and comfortable, but also intended for no nonsense customers who came in, bought fish and left. There were two orange chairs, a table covered in fishing and car magazines and a coffee maker with cups of coffee for a quarter. The shop manager, Jim Trinear looked up from his newspaper when Raven entered and she saw recognition in his eyes. He folded the paper and leaned on the counter.

  “Good morning, Detective Storm,” he said. “Lose some more sea salt?”

  Raven tapped her badge. “It’s Agent, now.”

  She placed her phone on the counter and brought up Carmichael’s license photo. “Have you seen this woman before?”

  Trinear picked up the phone and peered at it through his reading glasses. “Hmm… yes. Yes, she was here yesterday. She was wearing more makeup and dressed to the nines, but that’s her. She said her name was Domino. Why?”

  “We aren’t at liberty to disclose that, sir. Can you tell us what she wanted?” Levac asked.

  “She came in and asked for eight ounces of Pacific blue, said she needed it for a cocktail party,” Trinear said.

  “Do you normally sell salt over the counter?”

  Trinear shrugged. “Not really. But it was the damnedest thing, she came in like she owned the place and asked for the salt. When I said no, she said she was playing some kind of game and couldn’t win if she didn’t have the salt. So I sold it to her at cost.”

  “Did she say anything about the game? Anything you remember could be helpful,” Levac said.

  “No, not really. She said she wasn’t supposed to say what she did and could be disqualified if anyone found out. She took the salt and left,” Trinear said.

  Raven looked back out the door. “Was she alone?”

  Trinear shrugged. “As far as I know. I mean, I didn’t see anyone with her.”

  “Did you see what she was driving?”

  Trinear hesitated and Levac leaned closer. “I understand, sir. You followed her to the door, didn’t you? Maybe held it for her and watched her walk? It’s alright, sir, we’re not here to judge. Just tell us what you saw.”

  “Yeah,
I followed her out, man you should have seen her legs. She got into a new Chevy, a Camaro, I think,” Trinear said.

  Raven looked at him. “That explains the Chevy fibers. Is that it?”

  Trinear scratched the hairs on his left ear. “Yes ma’am, that’s it. She bought the salt and got into a bright red Camaro.”

  “Alright. Thank you for your time.”

  Levac pulled a rumpled business card from his pocket and placed it on the counter. “If you think of anything else, please give me a call, day or night.”

  “I’ll do that. Take care, now.”

  Outside, Raven leaned against the Shelby and stared at the building. “Does any of this seem weird to you?”

  “You mean that bits and pieces of our old cases seem to be part of this weird game?” Levac asked dryly. “No, that isn’t weird at all.”

  “Thing is, how do they know? I thought all our casefiles were sealed.”

  Levac shrugged. “Supposed to be and are, aren’t the same thing. You’ve been in the news quite a lot, in case you haven’t noticed. Maybe some details have leaked and some weirdo is using them in their game.”

  “That’s comforting. Next thing you know, I’ll have paps in the lobby.”

  The Shelby’s radio squelched and Raven looked at it in surprise. “Did you turn on the police band?”

  “Yeah, I thought we could listen in, maybe lend a hand if we got bored or hit a dead end,” Levac said. “Ten-seventy-nine, that’s a bomb threat.”

  Raven slid behind the wheel. “It’s not far and sounds like someone found a device. Let’s roll!”

  Levac made a face. “Really? Isn’t a bomb threat more the SWAT team’s department?”

  “It was your idea to listen in, come on.”

  Levac sighed and got into the car. “I just know this is going to bite me in the ass.”

  Raven pressed the gas and accelerated away from the Market. On a good day following traffic laws, it would take ten minutes to travel the distance to the office building where the threat had been called in. Raven bet she could do it in half that and drifted the Shelby around a corner onto Lake street. The sun vanished as they passed beneath the “L” and Raven shifted through the gears, pushing the Shelby to faster speeds. Levac reached down and turned on the car’s red and blue police lights and siren.

 

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