Tyler leaned forward eagerly. “Who was he?” He glanced at Oliver. “I always had this theory it was Walter Sickert, but…”
“No serious person believes Jack the Ripper was Walter Sickert,” Artemis said. “His name was…”
At that moment the phone on Artemis’s desk chimed and Bruce’s voice came over the intercom. “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but Mr. Teasdale just arrived. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he said you’re expecting him.”
“Indeed,” Artemis said. “Have him wait a moment. I’ll be right out.” She clicked the phone off and turned back to Oliver and Tyler. “That is enough. Your contact with the Vallejo Police Department is Stephen Purvis. He has been instructed to provide you with the files you need to begin your investigation.” She looked at each of them in turn as they didn’t move. “That is all, gentlemen. Leave me.”
Oliver stood up and left the room, a disappointed Tyler a step behind him.
Chapter 5
“You think we should be FBI agents today?” Tyler asked.
“That works,” Oliver said. “We can hardly show up at a police station in street clothes.” Both of them had several outfits stored in the office that could be taken out and worn when circumstances demanded it. The FBI “uniforms” they used were simple dark suits with white striped shirts and blue ties. They also had outfits that would help them pass for construction workers, doctors, scientists, and even clowns. Oliver had never worn the clown outfit, and he hoped that a situation where that was required would never arise.
They headed for the office door after they’d changed, but Oliver stopped short when he saw Mr. Teasdale standing in the lobby. He wore the same black suit and power tie he’d had on the first time Oliver had met him, just over a year earlier. Back then he’d been posing as an SEC agent, but he was really a professional assassin. Teasdale was tall and somehow always managed to maintain a stern bearing, even though Oliver had never seen him frown. He’d have made an excellent process server, or maybe a mortician. He carried a black briefcase in his left hand. As Oliver neared the assassin nodded at him politely. “Mr. Jones. Mr. Jacobsen. How very nice to see you again.”
Tyler looked away, but Oliver couldn’t help but notice that Mr. Teasdale’s face was markedly different than he remembered. The bone structure looked more or less the same, but it quite simply wasn’t the same face. The skin was a slightly different shade, and it still had the look of not fitting properly over the skull beneath it. Oliver had long ago gathered that Mr. Teasdale was also wearing a disguise, but his disguise was one of a human being.
“You look like somebody else,” Oliver said.
The assassin nodded. “That is an unfortunate reality of the flesh,” he said. “It never lasts very long.”
Oliver nodded. There was more than one way to take that comment, but he decided not to dwell on it. This day was already promising to be unpleasant. “Have a nice day, Mr. Teasdale.”
“And you, Mr. Jones.” Mr. Teasdale smiled pleasantly. “Mr. Jacobsen.”
Oliver didn’t look back as he and Tyler waited for the elevator to arrive. Tyler couldn’t help himself, though. “I didn’t know Artemis actually knew him,” he said.
“Maybe he’s here for a job interview.” Oliver shrugged. “The field team is supposed to be three people, after all.”
“You think so?” Tyler frowned. “I think working with him would be enough to get me to quit.”
“He doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge,” Oliver said.
“Why would he?” Tyler asked. Then he nodded. “Oh, because I shot him that one time?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d actually forgotten about that. I just mean I can’t get over the fact that he’s…I don’t know. What the hell is he?”
“That’s just something else Artemis is never going to tell us,” Oliver said. The elevator doors opened and he stepped on, Tyler just behind him.
They took Oliver’s car and headed north out of the city. Vallejo was about an hour’s drive away at this time of day. There wasn’t much traffic to speak of. Oliver found himself grateful that the killings had taken place so close to home. He was in no mood to fly halfway around the world looking for a murderer who should have died a hundred years ago. He supposed that was a strange way of thinking, but his life was pretty strange these days.
Something about that thought didn’t sit quite right with him, though. “Why?” he asked.
“What’s that?” Tyler asked. He’d been fiddling with Oliver’s radio, looking for something to listen to.
“If this guy actually is Jack the Ripper, what’s he doing all the way out here? Even if he arrived here from the Nether Lands, he’s obviously figured out how transportation works. Why wouldn’t he go home to London? Or at least somewhere else he’s familiar with? It’s not like anybody would recognize him and call the police.”
“Fair enough,” Tyler said. “Even if there had been a photograph of him back then, nobody would be looking for him. Maybe he wanted to visit the wine country, get a few tastings in. He did start off in Sonoma.”
“And he’s moving,” Oliver said. “Why two cities? It’ll draw a lot more attention.”
“I don’t know,” Tyler said. “But do you think we should stop and ask the vampires if they know anything? We’re headed in that direction anyway.”
Oliver considered that. It wasn’t a terrible idea. John Blackwell’s house wasn’t far out of the way, and he was known for keeping in tune with what was happening in what he considered his “domain.” Oliver didn’t relish the idea of another visit out there, though. Given past experience, it seemed almost impossible that he’d emerge from Blackwell’s mansion unbitten. While vampire bites had been shown to be neither capable of killing him nor turning him into one of the undead, it didn’t mean the experience was a pleasant one. The bites hurt, and the vomiting of fiery blood that came after them was very unpleasant.
“No,” he said finally. “If they knew something unnatural was going on, they’d have been in touch. Blackwell owes Artemis so many favors by now he’s probably desperate to clear the slate before she asks him to do something he really doesn’t want to do.”
Tyler nodded. “Yeah. That makes sense.” He went back to playing with the radio. He didn’t say anything else until Oliver made the turn onto Highway 37, which would take them straight to Vallejo. Then he cleared his throat. “Why haven’t you quit yet?”
“What?”
“Why haven’t you quit? I know you’ve thought about it.”
Oliver didn’t say anything for a moment. His impulse was to deny he’d considered leaving the firm, but Tyler wasn’t wrong, and he didn’t want to start lying to the man. They’d always been straight with each other. Tyler didn’t deserve lies. “Because I don’t know what I am yet, and I’m pretty sure sticking with Artemis is the key to finding out. She seems to be the only person who understands any of what’s going on, and one of these days she’s going to have to tell me. That’s why, I guess. And, honestly…”
“Yeah?”
“Somebody has to do this,” Oliver admitted. “Somebody has to fight the zombies. And the cyborgs. Somebody has to save the world. As much as I’m mad at Artemis, I have to admit she’s done just that at least once since I’ve known her. Given that she’s been doing this for thousands of years, I can’t imagine how many times it’s really been.”
Tyler thought about that for a while. “I guess I can understand that. Do you think you’re ever going to stop being mad at her?”
“Maybe if she starts telling me the truth for a change. It’s all her goddamn games that drive me nuts. And what she did to Sally, of course, but I think even more than that it’s her deception that gets to me.”
Tyler nodded. “In other words, you’re never going to stop being mad at her. That’s about what I thought.”
They were quickly at the Vallejo city limits. Vallejo was a mid-sized city of about a hundred thousand people that sat on the northeast edge of San
Pablo Bay. Oliver didn’t know it well, but he thought there had been a Sea World or something similar in the area once. He let the car’s GPS system lead them to the police department, a single-story grey stone building not far from the city center. Two white television news vans were parked on the street out front. Oliver didn’t see any reporters nearby, which was just as well. If there was a press conference being held soon, he didn’t want to wind up in the background of whatever footage they were taking. Artemis preferred they be noticed as little as possible, and that was one thing he agreed with her about. If he and Tyler’s pictures started showing up at the scenes of strange events, it wouldn’t take long for the Internet’s conspiracy theorists to spot them and declare they were part of some secret shadow government agency. Which, he supposed, wasn’t terribly far from the truth. Artemis had her share of government contacts and could get things done for her when she wanted to. Conspiracy was her bread and butter.
Oliver checked to make sure his FBI badge was in his pocket. His Beretta sat snug in its shoulder holster. He doubted he was going to need it, but lately he didn’t like to go anywhere unarmed. He always seemed to wind up needing the gun when he left it at home.
After locking the car, he and Tyler headed up a set of concrete steps into the building. As they walked Oliver suddenly thought he heard the faint sound of rushing water in the distance. He stopped abruptly and looked around. There didn’t seem to be anything out of place on the street, and none of the pedestrians nearby seemed to be taking any undue interest in them.
“What is it?” Tyler asked.
“I don’t know,” Oliver said. “I thought I heard…” As he was speaking the sound in his ears faded away. Everything around them still looked normal. “Nothing, I guess. Let’s go.”
The police department’s lobby was a small rectangular room with plastic chairs set out in two rows. Plaques and photos lined the walls, some showing awards and others with officers posing with what appeared to be high-school baseball and soccer teams. A safety poster with a large cartoon bear reminded children not to take rides from strangers.
A brunette woman in uniform sat at a reception desk behind a Plexiglas screen that looked like the kind gas stations in bad neighborhoods used to keep their cashiers safe at night. Oliver had to wonder who would be stupid enough to try and attack a police station. Then again, he’d seen Terminator. He’d also seen killer cyborgs in real life, for that matter. It didn’t hurt to be safe.
Oliver approached the desk and flashed his badge. “Agent Jones, FBI,” he said. “This is Agent Jacobsen.” He nodded as Tyler flashed his badge. “We’re here to see Stephen Purvis. He should be expecting us.”
The officer barely glanced at their identification before picking up a phone and making a call. After a moment she put the phone down and pressed a switch under her desk. There was a loud buzzing and then a click as the lock on the door leading into the rest of the station slid open. “You can go ahead,” she said. “First right, then it’s the last cube on the left.”
Oliver couldn’t recall having been inside a police station before. He was a little surprised to find that this one looked much like the cubicle farms he’d worked in most of his life. The only real difference, at least in this area, was that about half the staff wore blue police uniforms. Others wore suits, while a few took a more business casual approach. Oliver assumed those were civilians. Most police departments had some on staff to handle administrative tasks. Back in his office worker days, Oliver probably would have blended in here perfectly. He found that somewhat anticlimactic.
He and Tyler made the first right and stopped at the last cubicle as the receptionist had directed them to. A name plate on the side of the cubicle read PURVIS and a man in a plaid shirt and khakis was waiting for them. He was about Oliver’s size, with thinning dark hair and a slight build. He looked nervous; Oliver could see sweat stains at his armpits, and it wasn’t warm in here. “Are you Stephen?” Oliver asked.
“Keep your voice down,” Purvis said. “I want you in and out before anyone notices you and starts wondering why the FBI is here.”
Tyler looked around. “What’s wrong? People here don’t like the FBI?”
“Oh, I don’t know what’s wrong,” Purvis said. “Maybe it’s that I’m being blackmailed into helping you and I’ll lose my job if anyone finds out about this?”
Oliver sighed. He should have known Purvis wasn’t helping them because he wanted to. Artemis had something on him. That was just the way she worked. “We’re not going to make trouble,” he said. “Tell us what we need to know and we’ll be out of here.”
Purvis took a sealed FedEx envelope off of his desk and handed it to him. “That’s a copy of everything I could get my hands on. It’s not a lot. Crime scene photos and the lead detective’s notes. We just got started on this.”
“Interviews?” Tyler asked.
“We’re talking to family members but I don’t have any of that yet. There were no witnesses to interview.”
“Why is it in an envelope like this?” Oliver asked.
“Because I don’t want anyone to see you walking out of here with a file,” Purvis snapped. “Anything else you guys need before I can get back to my life?”
Tyler looked at Oliver. “Any chance you think it’s Jack the Ripper?” he asked.
Purvis glared at Tyler. “You’re a dick.”
Oliver raised a hand. “Forget he said that. Weird sense of humor. Thanks for the help.”
“It was a fair question,” Tyler grumbled as they headed for the door.
“He obviously has no idea why Artemis wanted the file,” Oliver said. “I wonder what she has on him?” He thought about that. “On second thought, I don’t care. Let’s go read through this and see what’s what.”
“I could really do without seeing crime scene photos today,” Tyler said.
As Oliver was about to open the door that led back to reception he nearly bumped into a woman who was also on her way out. She wore a black motorcycle jacket and had light brown hair reaching to her shoulders that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in a few days. “Sorry,” Oliver said, standing aside.
Tyler did a double-take. “Holy shit! Commander James!”
The woman squinted at him curiously. “Sorry,” she said. “Commander?” She looked at Oliver, and then back to Tyler. “Do I know you?”
Tyler shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I meant Detective James.” He bit his lip. “I’m Tyler Jacobsen. I used to be Honolulu P.D. We’ve never actually met, but I’ve heard of you. Everyone’s heard of you.”
Nevada smiled, but it looked like it took some effort. “Even that far away, huh?” She shook his hand. “Call me Nevada.”
Oliver shook her hand next. As far as he knew, he’d never seen this woman before in his life. “I actually haven’t heard of you,” he said. He looked at Tyler, eyebrows raised.
“Nevada worked homicide in San Diego,” Tyler said quickly. “Best detective there ever was.”
“Nah,” Nevada said. “I just got lucky a lot.”
“False modesty,” Tyler said to Oliver. “She was a phenomenon.” He looked back at Nevada. “Are you back on the force?” He looked around. “Here?”
“Never,” Nevada said. “I’m a civilian now. Just came up to do a favor for an old friend. They asked me to take a look at this serial killer thing. I guess I’m the nearest expert.” She shrugged. “You’d think there’d be more serial killers in a state the size of California, but there really aren’t.”
Oliver nodded. “Maybe you could enlighten us, then. What’s your take on the case?”
Nevada looked at each of them in turn. “Sorry,” she said. “Who are you guys with again?”
Tyler reached for his badge. “FBI,” he said. Oliver held up his badge so she could see it.
Nevada glanced at them but didn’t appear to be paying much attention. “FBI. San Francisco?”
“That’s us,” Oliver said.
; “I know a couple guys out there. You guys work with David Sampson?”
Oliver glanced at Tyler. As long as they’d been doing their FBI impersonation routine, nobody had ever asked a question like this. Did Nevada really know a David Sampson, or was she trying to draw them into a mistake? He had to choose. “It doesn’t ring a bell,” Oliver said. “It’s a big office, though. Maybe he works on a different floor.”
“Nah,” Nevada said. “I made him up. Sorry, but you guys don’t look much like FBI.”
“I told you she was a good detective,” Tyler said to Oliver.
Oliver wasn’t sure he agreed, but he wasn’t going to argue. The badges were useful, but somehow he and Tyler didn’t fit the mental image he had in his own head for FBI agents. Then again, the only FBI agents he’d ever seen were actors playing them on television.
“Hang on,” Nevada said. “I have to check in.” She took her phone out of her jacket pocket, typed something, and then put it away. “I was just going to get some coffee,” she said. “You guys want to join me? I can tell you more or less what I just told these guys.”
“Coffee would be great,” Oliver said. With a little luck, they’d get what they needed from her and be done with this whole thing in half an hour. Things were looking up.
Chapter 6
Ten minutes later the three of them had taken seats in the rear of the Starbucks across the street. Nevada had ordered a quadruple espresso, the thought of which nearly made Oliver gag. She’d been swirling it around in its paper cup waiting for it to cool while Tyler asked about an old serial killer case she’d worked in San Diego. Oliver had never heard of it, but it sounded fairly gruesome. He wasn’t sure he wanted the details, but whoever that killer was, he probably would have given Jack the Ripper a run for his money.
“Anyway,” Oliver said during a pause in their conversation. “We’re hearing that this is probably a copycat. What do you think?”
Interesting People (Interesting Times #3) Page 6
