***
No fingerprints that Max provided matched any that Nick had thought may go together. Mr. Gleason had no traces, and there were no traces of Avery’s. There was a common print found on both victim’s body though, presumably the killers. Nick called in some favors from a few of the forensics people that he got along with well, and they told him that there were no matching prints on file. Whoever was likely killing was someone new to it, and that would explain some of the peculiar actions like cutting tongues out after death. Yet, they also had a certain amount of knowledge. Maybe Avery was being set up, and someone that despised him as much as Nick was behind it. The guy had a lot of enemies—both inside and out of the precinct.
For a moment, Nick thought that if someone was out to get Avery he’d be best served by just dropping his pursuits. It would certainly save him some hassles. Unfortunately, he knew that he couldn’t do that. Curiosity about what was happening was surging through his veins, poisoning him with an infectious desire to solve this one. In a way, it had become the motive more than the murder. It was so unusual. And someone seemed to want to keep him hanging on too, making it more intriguing. Whoever was behind the murders and clues intensity had picked up. What had started as a single slow case was now turning into a fast moving case, and that meant mistakes were more likely to start happening and careless clues would surface themselves.
Two days later, Nick happened to catch an article about a young woman’s death in the newspaper. Her picture was by the story, and his eyes stopped at it, staring closely at the bright smile, and youthful energy of the woman. It was the so-called Nancy from the other night. Only her real name was Natalie Dupree, another young woman from an affluent family who’d been mugged in a side alley.
Why hadn’t Max informed Nick of this? He called him up, and caught him live. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Natalie Dupree murder?” This wasn’t the time for frivolous small talk, and Nick was trying not to be as pissed off verbally as he felt on the inside.
“What? I have been sick. Haven’t been at work in two days.”
“Are you going in tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think Natalie’s body will still be at the morgue?”
“I don’t know.”
“Call me when you get there. I want to know if there’s a file on her, and if her body is still there. I want to investigate that body. Got it?”
“Fine, I’ll see what I can do. No guarantees. And by the way, thanks for asking if I’m feeling better.”
Nick ignored the snide remark, and hung up the telephone. He was pacing around the apartment, trying to piece everything together. He poured a jigger from his new bottle of Gentleman Jack, and swished it around his mouth like it was mouth wash, and then swallowed it, enjoying the smooth taste of the amber liquid.
There was a knock at the door, and Nick walked over, peeking through the spy hole to see who was there. The face on the other side was surprising, to say the least.
He unlocked the door and swung it open. “Avery, now this is a surprise.”
“I need to talk with you. Shut the door.” He didn’t bother waiting for a response and walked past Nick into the living room.
“Okay. I’ll admit that I’m intrigued. What would you have to talk to me about?”
“I know that you suspect I’m connected with these recent murders.”
“How do you know that? I never said that,” Nick said.
“You may not realize it, but I’ve studied you a great deal in the past years, and I am very aware of how you think and process things.”
“That’s a bold statement, Avery. Personally, I don’t think you know shit about how I process things.”
“Let me take a swing at it,” Avery said.
“Go ahead.” Nick sat down, waiting to hear what Avery had to say. It should prove interesting, or entertaining.
“Evidence from these three murders is connected to me, but it doesn’t add up. I am not an amateur, am I? If I was going to kill someone I’d probably get away with it, that’s for sure.”
“I’ll give you that, as much as it pains me. Continue.”
“Someone’s blackmailing me, and I can’t figure out who, or why.”
“Blackmailing you to hang out with beautiful young brunette’s who end up dead afterwards. That doesn’t sound like a very sound blackmail plan. What would there motive be?” Nick crossed his leg over the other one, trying to ignore the pain in his ribs that came with the shift.
“Here’s the deal. I haven’t been hanging out with these women.”
“Have you lost it, or are you dicking around with me? I just spoke with you, and the so-called Nancy the other night.” Nick pointed down to the paper with the picture of Natalie Dupree.
“What?”
Nick rolled his eyes, suspecting that his time was being wasted. “You were leaving Scully’s with her, and I had some fun freaking you out.”
“I swear, that wasn’t me. I quit drinking about a two months ago, orders of the wife.”
“Well, do you have an identical twin brother that’s an ass just like you are? That would be the only other logical explanation.”
“Not that I know of. I am adopted though so I couldn’t say for certain.”
“Has anyone asked you for information or money to support your blackmail theory?”
“No, and that’s what I don’t get. They just seem to want to frame me.” Avery had been sitting on the couch with his hands on his knees, but he lifted up and reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small pocket knife. He opened up the blade and started to clean the dirt under his nails. It was repulsive to see, but interesting at the same time. A small pocket knife.
“Hey, can I see that pocket knife. I had one when I was young, and just loved that thing. It always went dull too quickly though.”
Avery looked at Nick. “Yah, whatever. I just found it one day, and grabbed it. Thought it would be handy.”
“Found it? Where?”
“On my desk.”
Nick smiled. Avery was either a master fabricator, or being set up in a most elaborate way. It would be interesting to discover which one it was. “Well Avery, you’ve confessed this bizarre and mostly unbelievable story to me. What is it, exactly, that you think I can do for you?”
“Help find out what’s been going on.”
“Without interference from you?”
“Yes.”
“Why have you stopped the coroner’s office from pursuing the case, and why did you get me fired when I was getting leads if you are the innocent, the man being framed?”
“Fear. Shit. I’ve been on the force for twenty-five long years. I’ve worked hard, and put in my time. Put a lot of pieces of crap away. I can’t risk anything happening to my pension, or reputation.”
“Well, you can relax about your reputation. It’s lousy, and most people consider you a prick. Some just decide to be more accepting of it than others.”
Avery sneered at Nick, not appreciating the slam, but knowing that he couldn’t really retaliate either if he wanted help. “Will you help?”
“I will, just as long as you don’t prevent me from doing whatever I can, or stop autopsies.”
“Okay. I’ll take your terms.”
“Do you have the precinct files from the murders?”
“Yes, but I know you have copies. Why do you want those?”
“Oh, you’d be surprised how many subtle differences there can be between the cop’s case files, my case files, and the autopsy reports.”
“Would I now?” Avery looked at Nick, not bothering to hide how hard it was to ask a guy he couldn’t stand for help. Yet he knew that no one was better qualified to figure out this crazy case, and what was going on than him. He had no choice but to trust Nick.
The Conspirator's Agenda Page 6
