Blood Web: Caitlin Diggs Series #1

by Gary Starta

  The curator’s white handkerchief mirrored his pale complexion. “Just what will I tell Paris? Just what will I tell Paris?” He mumbled the line repeatedly into Suzie’s camera. Cheng finally gave up in exasperation. “I don’t know what you’ll tell them. Personally, I don’t think they’re quite over the Freedom Fries thing.”

  Meanwhile, Shenk was taking it to the streets. Fearing apprehension, he opted not to ride with another cabbie. As his stomach rumbled, Shenk stumbled upon a restaurant named Die Fliedermaus. Its location: West Fifty-eighth Street and Sixth Avenue. If one added the two numbers, one would get sixty-four. Also quite coincidentally, the restaurant’s street number was nineteen, signifying the century of the Sand Creek Massacre. Shenk would take refuge in this eatery while civilians scurried for safety outside.

  While no one had actually spotted the Arrowhead Killer, all metropolitan TV and radio stations reported his sighting as fact, sending a widespread panic across the avenues. The hustle and bustle benefited Lukas. There was no wait to be seated. And it was a good thing because Shenk came with an appetite. All the walking had nearly depleted his seratonin levels, not to mention his blood sugar. He needed turkey—fast. Ignoring the waitress’s pleas to order the house special, Lukas requested six dishes of roast turkey without batting an eye. The order elicited a few sidelong glances from patrons seated in the vicinity, but like true New Yorkers, no further inquiries would be forthcoming. Your skin could be colored with purple and green spots and no one would glance at you a second time.

  After nearly licking the six plates of turkey clean, Shenk refused to even look at the dessert menu. It was as if the waitress was suggesting he was some kind of a glutton. She wouldn’t understand, this was not about overeating, this was survival. Shenk left a healthy tip and departed, continuing his journey on foot. He headed back in the direction of the Port Authority.

  Radios squawked at every corner kiosk and newsstand. The same sound bite played repeatedly. It was the curator, desperately asking over and over again the same question he posed to Suzie Cheng. More headlines followed: Suicide Bomber Unleashes Weapon In Restaurant. Student Sues School After Principal Takes His Gun Away. Teacher Applauds Nazi Regime. Priest Held On Molestation Charges. Politician Sells Drugs On Street Corner.... And the list went on, all this evil.

  Could the crystal save the world from this? Or was humankind inherently evil itself? Was that why the crystal was so hell bent on taking vengeance? Was it merely reflecting the state of society, poisoned by too many prescription medications, unhealthy junk food, and toxic waste?

  Shenk was not preoccupied with this line of thinking. He still believed he was in control of his destiny. He did not question why the crystal told him to admire a painting one minute and plot murder in the next minute. He believed it was just happenstance that a twenty-something-year-old man would pull his car alongside him and ask if he “was working.”

  Shenk had crossed into what some still call the “red light district.” Horny men patrolled this section along Forty-second Street looking for some action. But this particular horn dog never imagined the tables would be turned and the prey would become the predator. Shenk took the passenger’s seat in the Pontiac Firebird. Opportunity knocked on four wheels. The man leafed through his wallet and put three hundred dollars in Shenk’s hands. He started to describe what he wanted. Shenk told the man he was mistaken, that he wasn’t that kind of girl. In fact, he wasn’t even a girl. The man did not seem phased. He countered, “Oh, I’m married. And that she-male thing, I’ve always wondered what it would be like.”

  Shenk’s stomach turned in response to the pervert. But murder would draw attention. Police would suspect the Arrowhead Killer, even if they had no supporting evidence. Shenk went to Plan B. He struck the pervert in the face with the heel of his hand. He then rolled the unconscious body out of the car and into an alleyway. Sightseeing was overrated. It was high time to get back to the business of murder.

  ***

  Ed Hoyt was once again up to his eyeballs in work. Initial inspection of Lawrence Evans revealed the same modus operandi: brand mark to the forehead, hemorrhaging of the brain. The only difference between Schenker’s other victims and this victim was an even more pronounced blood loss. Hoyt and his FBI colleagues knew this stood to reason, especially in a decapitation.

  Hoyt also knew Agent Diggs would be most intrigued to find out what kind of DNA match the saliva sample produced. True to her vision, Geoffrey McAllister’s killer had left his calling card—in the form of spit. The sample told him the killer was male. He relayed this information to the agents. However, Caitlin Diggs had no time for elation, because Eugene Campbell just had another vision. This time it provided a very clear picture of where Lukas Schenker intended to commit his next murder.

  Chapter 32

  Eugene Campbell’s next vision had indeed been crystal clear, giving Caitlin Diggs exactly what she had been looking for. Eugene had seen both the name and address of Lukas Schenker’s next intended victim. It was listed on a mailbox: The Carlson’s, 1864 Purgatory Road.

  Purgatory Road sat a stone’s throw away from Sachuest Bay, a very picturesque Rhode Island beachscape. Marty and Janice Carlson both worked as senior managers for a Warwick telecommunications firm to afford their luxurious lifestyle in the Middletown, Rhode Island, town.

  Located between Newport and Portsmouth, Middletown was one of the first colonial settlements in the state. However, Marty, Janice, and their daughter, Andrea, were not exactly history buffs. They weren’t aware of Middletown’s history—and sure as hell didn’t know they were descendants of a U.S. Cavalry man who helped slaughter a slew of Cheyenne Indians in Colorado. But Caitlin Diggs knew, thanks to Eugene. And even if she had to talk until her face turned blue, Diggs was going to convince her younger partner of this genealogical connection.

  “Pack your bags, Deondra,” Caitlin announced. She had just left Eugene Campbell in the adjacent room and was barely across the threshold of hers when she threw a duffel bag onto the queen-sized hotel bed Rivers was still sleeping in. It landed just short of Agent Rivers’ feet, which were still warm and toasty, balled inside a thick layering of sheets and bedspread.

  “And our destination?” Rivers mumbled, still groggy from a restless night of sleep. Rivers couldn’t stop thinking about Hoyt’s meeting with the mystery man. About the danger he might be in. The thought of proposing a trip back to Virginia flitted across her mind in the early dawn hours. But her request would have come off sounding like a lovesick teen. Can I please go to Quantico to help protect my boyfriend? Now her desire to aid Hoyt had to be pushed back further in her mind.

  Clearly, Diggs was finally giving clearance for departure. Why she rejected Eugene Campbell’s earlier premonition was beyond Rivers’ scope of reason. They could be in New York right now, hunting Lukas Schenker along with every law enforcement official and media hound fit to walk on two feet. In that regard, Rivers had let Diggs handle last night’s phone call from Assistant Director Dudek. He too wanted to know why the agents weren’t among the dragnet. Diggs simply explained, “I have my reasons.” Dudek responded that her reasons better lead to an arrest—and soon.

  Strange reports continued to filter in from Manhattan. Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa hung in the Met, wearing a distinct frown. A movie wouldn’t stop playing in a downtown theater, even after power had been cut. And a student, unaware his book bag had come into close contact with Schenker, was now selling a very strange and altered copy of the Scarlet Letter on eBay. Besides the novel’s lead character, Hester Prynne, other characters in the story were now sporting letters on their attire as well. Blogs soon appeared as to what the additional letters stood for. “I” for idiot? “L” for lazy? “J” for jerk? It was anyone’s guess.

  The debate paled in comparison to the outrage the media attempted to stir up regarding Lukas Schenker’s ability to move across the country freely. “Why hasn’t anyone seen this killer?” Suzie Cheng asked rhetorically. The newswoman co
uld not believe how Schenker, whose poster hung on every wall of every post office in America, had been allowed to waltz into a heavily guarded museum without detection. And furthermore, how could he have switched paintings without at least appearing on one single surveillance camera?

  The NYPD was under fire, but they couldn’t reveal the truth: they had seen an image on surveillance tape—a blurred rainbow. The mayor was desperately hoping someone could tell the public that Schenker had vacated his great city. Agent Diggs could have saved the mayor’s ass by telling the media Lukas was headed for Rhode Island. But she didn’t tell the mayor, Dudek, or even one single New Yorker of Eugene Campbell’s latest vision. She did not want to risk speaking over an unsecured telephone line. For that matter, she barely spoke above a whisper when she answered her partner.

  “We’re going to Middletown, Rhode Island, Deondra. I’ve booked the plane and hotel, so hop to it, please.”

  “Could you please be a little more forthcoming with me? I do work for the same investigative branch of the government that you do, Caitlin.”

  Diggs chose to ignore her partner’s sarcasm. She proceeded to explain how Middletown police had already evacuated the Carlson family from their home, despite their protests. Apparently, Diggs had not only rattled the cages of every Rhode Island cop, she had done a pretty good job of pissing off Marty Carlson as well. Diggs convinced the local PD via phone that the Carlsons’ lives were in danger on an anonymous tip.

  She explained the source feared for his life. “I wish I could tell you more,” Diggs told the chief. The Middletown Police Chief replied he didn’t “give a darn” about the informant, only that Diggs better keep the media at bay or he would withdraw his “voluntary” cooperation. “I don’t need any reports of voodoo coming into town to scare away the tourists.” Rivers packed in silence after Diggs’ finished her update, recalling the brutality of Schenker’s last slaying.

  An hour later, the agents scurried through the airport lobby. Reporter Foss Fisher popped out of thin air before them. With bags in hands, Caitlin knew she could not bluff him. She made Fisher promise he would not tell a soul or print a single letter, which would endanger the investigation. Diggs laughed when Fisher recited some childhood poetry. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  As soon as the agents were out of sight, Fisher broke his pact. He communicated the agent’s destination via his little black box to Major Jonas Schumacher. Tom Wolvington’s little refresher course had worked. Now two more bodies were in motion to Middletown.

  Once in flight, Caitlin utilized the flight time to finally answer his persistent partner’s questions.

  Rivers wanted to know how Eugene’s vision would help capture their suspect. “I’m grateful you’re getting the Carlsons out of harm’s way, but what about nailing Schenker? And when he finds out the family has packed bags and left, will he find a new way to hunt them or possibly just skip onto his next intended victims?”

  “Those are all good questions, Deondra. I believe Schenker won’t be able to rest until he finds the Carlsons. For that reason, I had Middletown PD post a note on their front door indicating the family would be out of town for a day on an emergency and would return. So I’m hoping our suspect will read this note and hang around for their reappearance. I can only justify my line of reasoning based on how I would think if I were the crystal wrapped around Schenker’s neck. If I wanted to exact revenge for a century-old crime, I would be pretty anal retentive about it. I wouldn’t just skip to the next victim.”

  A phone call interrupted Diggs before she could divulge her plan of capture. It was Tara. Desperate to end the call as quickly as possible, Diggs blurted out she and Rivers were on their way to Rhode Island. An important break in the case had developed. She disconnected the cell before her sibling could pose another question.

  Rivers resumed her line of questioning.

  “Speaking of the crystal, what are we going to do with it when we find it?” Deondra did not pause for a response. Instead, she answered her own question. “ I think it should be put in the hands of scientists for study. There may really be a plethora of benefits locked inside the quartz, just waiting for us to tap into them. And if this crystal can literally enhance, or even turn dormant genes on, don’t we owe humanity the opportunity to wipe out disease and birth defects? It could put us far ahead of any stem cell research now being conducted.”

  “Ah, I see you’re beginning to believe in myths and legends.” Diggs laughed, hoping to lighten the mood. But Rivers was stone cold serious.

  Diggs continued. “You have a valid point. But how can we be sure the crystal will get into altruistic hands? This mysterious military man most likely plans to use the stone’s powers to help himself. To possibly control others just as Jake Campbell warned. And beyond that, the crystal may be very dangerous in itself. If it’s absorbing huge of amounts of electromagnetic waves, maybe it will eventually unleash all the radiation stored in Schenker’s body.”

  Rivers shook her head. “I don’t believe so. I think the radiation will finally be allowed to penetrate and devour Schenker’s body once he is separated from the stone. The crystal is not capable of emitting waves. So Schenker’s body is going to pose a very real hazard to us. Whether it’s alive or dead, the radiation will eventually be released. But getting back to the crystal, it might be a key, even a holy grail. We’ve got to consider its benefits.”

  “I concur, Deondra. The crystal might allow humanity to take its next evolutionary step. On the other hand, that step may be our own graves. Any predictions are dubious. Beyond the medical implications you speak of, I also wonder about how the crystal might affect the way we communicate. Right now, we are a society mired in misunderstanding. Many of our false conclusions have resulted in bloodshed, not to mention one too many uncomfortable dating scenarios.

  How many times have you been clueless as to what the opposite sex is really thinking about? Or how many times have you been treated differently just because you look pretty or resemble a famous actress? We’re all slaves to visual stimuli. If the crystal could put everybody on the same page, maybe we could all finally live in peace. But again, I believe those in power would utilize the crystal for their selfish gain. Consequently, we can’t be scientists or philosophers. In the end, we are FBI agents. And our job description is very clear: to eliminate threats and preserve life.”

  “Yes, Caitlin, I agree. It’s painfully obvious we can’t trust whose hands the crystal might fall into. I heard it in Hoyt’s voice. So let’s get back to basics. How is your plan going to result in Schenker’s arrest? I’m sure Dudek would just love to know.”

  Agent Diggs launched into her plan. Rivers did not like it, not one bit. The two agents sat in stone silence for the rest of the flight. Eugene Campbell sat one row behind the two women, trying to blend in with the scenery. He was not about to risk life and limb by adding his two cents to their equations. During the uncomfortable silence, Rivers realized she had already broken the pact she made with herself. She once again was put in the position of questioning her partner’s methodology. Rivers reasoned any sane person would. Who would willingly set herself up as bait for America’s most dangerous killer? The answer was quite simple: Special Agent Caitlin Diggs.

  Chapter 33

  Diggs’ plans were radical to say the least. She conceived it while reflecting on Eugene Campbell’s ability to psychically hack into Lukas Schenker’s subconscious mind. If Eugene could trick the crystal with a strand of Schenker’s hair, maybe DNA could also be used as bait to lure a killer out of his shadows.

  “How do you know Marty Carlson will agree to give you his blood?”

  Agent Rivers’ question sounded surreal in the hectic confines of Rhode Island’s T.F. Green Airport. The agents were waiting for their baggage at a crowded luggage carousel. Diggs tried her best to answer in a whisper. “Because it will save his family’s lives.” Rivers wanted to call Dudek badly. To tell him his veteran agent was certifiable.

&nb
sp; One hour earlier, Diggs had proposed the idea of a blood transfusion for the purpose of attracting Lukas Schenker. The plan sounded so simple. Place Marty Carlson’s DNA into her body so Lukas would think she was Carlson. Once she attracted Schenker to Carlson’s dwelling, she would order Schenker to drop on the ground and place his hands behind his head. Yes, it sounded so easy. Just add ice and stir. Trouble was, Rivers was very skilled at finding holes in Diggs’ well-laid plan.

  “Again, even if Schenker falls right into your hands, how do you propose to subdue him without spilling his very lethal blood?”

  Diggs surprised Rivers. “I have thought of that, Agent Rivers. I need your expertise in biological science.”

  Diggs’ following request did not flatter Rivers. Yes, she would use her expertise, but she would also be regulated to errand girl.

  ***

  As the two agents verbally sparred at the airport, Lukas Schenker had already read the bogus note tacked to the Carlson’s front door. He didn’t even have to drive down Purgatory Road to see it. Employing mental telepathy and a little bit of astral projection, Lukas was able to read the message from the safe confines of a nearby forest known as Sachuest Point National Wildlife Refuge. He had parked the Firebird on one of the refuge’s scenic trails. He would have to feign an interest in bird watching and lie in wait until the real object of his fancy returned.

  ***

  The agents and Eugene Campbell separated immediately after leaving T.F. Green Airport. Eugene hailed a cab for the Holiday Inn. Diggs headed for the local hospital. Rivers went about her task to purchase a blowgun. Diggs argued quite convincingly that the weapon could be used to subdue Schenker without drawing his blood. The tenacious agent finally had to admit she couldn’t come up with a plan better than Caitlin’s. The gun could effectively project a tranquilizer dart into Lukas Schenker. And odds were a drop of blood would not be spilled.