“In 1886, an obscure scientist named Nikola Tesla, the inventor of alternating current, also developed the principle of ‘resonance’ whereby objects can be altered by vibrating them. He said and I quote:
“It is possible to transmit electrical energy without wires to produce destructive effects at a distance and apply it for innumerable purposes including physical degradation and even death.”
Robert Scott, also a brilliant man CEO of one of the largest defense contractors in the US, considered the possibilities. He knew that conventional weaponry had to be replaced some day, so he was willing to keep an open mind.
“Physical degradation?”
He spun around again in his expensive leather, executive chair to face out the scenic penthouse picture windows. To his subordinates he was known as, “Attila.” He didn’t care what they called him as long as it wasn’t to his face. He contemplated the potential revenue boost Caldwell was talking about. A mid-level executive made an observation to Caldwell.
“This is high-tech war isn’t it? Like the crossbow was to the agrarians? The wave of the future is high-energy radio frequencies, and transient electromagnetic devices used as weapons?”
He beamed with excitement. The CEO rotated his chair and got back into the conversation. As he was about to speak, his executive secretary entered the conference room. She had been with him since the entire corporation was housed inside of a trailer. In her mid-fifties, she was still a striking woman. Maggie felt confident enough to stride in and interrupt the conversation. She knew all his strange habits and idiosyncrasies. She also knew important details about his offspring, which included birth dates, anniversaries, and the grandchildren’s names. More importantly, she knew how to handle all of the ex-wives. In her hand was a small piece of paper with a message from a visitor in the outer office who requested an audience with him.
“She’s outside?”
Maggie couldn’t conceal her smile.
“Meeting’s adjourned, take a recess class.”
His anxious face looked back at Maggie. Those at the table grabbed their papers, and almost ran for the door.
“Send her in.”
Maggie strutted across the floor in her tight pinstriped skirt, silk white blouse, and the five-inch heels she was legendary for. She stopped at the door and waved at the visitor who appeared a moment later. The next thing Robert saw was a timid wave from his daughter’s hand.
“Hi, daddy.”
Mika attached her little girl smile intended to melt his heart.
“Mika, where have you been? Wait. Have you a pen and some paper? Quick, write this down.”
Taking out her notepad, she glanced at him with a quizzical look.
“1-8-0-0-555––
After the first five numbers, she stopped writing.
“Okay, okay, I get it. But you have to understand I’m a very busy girl and I have responsibilities.”
“You know you give me an icepick headache, and forget about the thousand broken hearts,” he said.
“I’d have thought the pain would be much lower.”
Grinning, she knew she had just one-upped him.
“Come here, it’s time for the big hug scene,” Robert said.
He held his arms wide open. They embraced like family members do after realizing they let life get in the way of their relationships. She was a sight for his tired eyes. To Mika, he was still her knight in shining armor. To Robert, she was still his little girl. She was just like him.
“What brings you to see old dad who has been in the same town with the same address and telephone number for forty years now? Need some cash?”
He reached into his pocket, but she waved him off.
“Those days are over dad, but thanks for the offer.”
She grasped his hand.
“The Justice Department didn’t send you here about those––”
A wide grin was followed by a chuckle.
“Justice could never catch up with you, Robert Scott.”
Mika thought about how much time had passed since her last visit. Dad was getting older.
I need to spend more time with him.
She wasn’t there for the cash, but she was there for his help and guidance. Like all fathers, he sensed she had a weight on her shoulders.
“What’s the matter, honey? Whatever’s wrong, I can fix it.”
“Not this time I’m afraid. Have you been following the news about the ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ murders?”
“Are you on that case?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Is that the one where the young woman, into Satan worship, chopped up her friend with a meat clever, bashed her head with a hammer, and then carved a pentagram into her chest?”
He displayed a squeamish, repulsed and agonized look on his face.
“Hmm, this is going to take longer than I thought,” Mika said.
“Good. We can go to lunch. Where––”
“Dad stop, I can’t go to lunch. What I need is some real good fatherly advice. I’m at a dead end. I’ve this case and there’re no clues, there’s little to go on, and people are dying. I can’t seem to find the answer.”
Her distress elicited his compassion. His hand raised and scratched at an eyebrow, while he paced.
“I’m really not a criminal investigator, honey, but have you tried a bribe?”
“A bribe?”
“Yeah, a reward for information? Pay a ‘snitch’ I think you call them. Money usually produces results. I remember for five hundred, you could send a guy to the hospital. For a thousand, he wouldn’t remember his name. For five thousand, he’d be floating face down. Guess that wouldn’t work for an FBI agent,” he said.
The joking ended and he became philosophical.
“That’s some job you do, always dealing with the bottom of the food chain, slimy bastards—just like old dad. Hey, why don’t you come and work with me. You could have a nice office, be a vice-president, you could take long lunches, and you could still deal with the bottom of the food chain.”
Mika laughed and the weight on her shoulders appeared to lift if only for a moment.
“Actually, dad, you have no idea how good that sounds right now.”
She let the offer float around in her thoughts for a while, savoring it.
“But I can’t. I like catching bad guys. I lock them up, and lose the key. I just can’t find this bad guy.”
She grabbed his arm and tugged.
“I thought you might have some fatherly wisdom gathered over the centuries that could help me.”
“Centuries, I look that old, huh?”
He dropped back down in his chair.
“I need to start working out.”
He pretended to take his pulse.
“I don’t really know what to tell you, except that if anyone’s going to catch the screwball––it’ll be you. You’re relentless, always have been, ever since your were this high.”
He held his hand out parallel about four feet off the floor for emphasis.
“The guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
“I’m working with Jake on this.”
Mika’s eyes locked on to her father’s.
“Jake?”
He couldn’t hide his enthusiasm.
“I always liked him. You two were a good, no a great match, How’s he doing?”
“He seems okay now, but he had a rough one a few weeks ago, shot and killed a teenage girl. She had it coming, but he took it hard. He doesn’t want to show it, but he’s still struggling. Then on top of that, the department’s therapist, the one Jake was required to see because of the shooting, turns up as my perp’s eleventh victim.”
A head popped in at the conference room door. The eyebrows were high and the smile half-hearted.
“Are you ready for us yet, sir?”
Robert glared back. The door closed again.
“If it’s fatherly advice you want, okay here it is. Keep your chin up, and your head down
. I don’t know what to tell you about the murders, but I do suggest you get out of crime fighting and get a life. You and Jake would still make a great team. You know when you two were together, you were happy. That’s the best I got, babe.”
She kissed his cheek while his words ping-ponged inside of her head.
“Thanks dad, I love you so much.”
* * *
I was never good at relationships. It had something to do with being abandoned as a kid. It also had something to do with being a male. We either try too hard, or not hard enough. In our defense, no one ever taught us how to behave in a loving relationship. By the time we figure it all out, it’s too late.
“Lori?”
“Jake, I’m glad you called.”
She recognized my voice. If she did nothing else, but talk to me with her sweet, sensual voice, I could listen for a lifetime.
“How was your day?”
It’s important I don’t scare her off. Cops have a way of making people feel nervous. I want desperately to tell her I think about her all the time.
Don’t screw this up, Jake.
“Oh, it’s been a beautiful day. There is a special feeling in the air I just can’t explain. And to think it’s not over yet,” Lori said.
She hoped I was picking up, what she put down.
“Did you still want to get together?”
“I’m still at the office, but I’m officially off duty.”
The tight fist pull-down was only part of my celebration.
Be cool, Jake.
“It looks stormy outside, and I hate to drive in the rain. Any chance I can get you to pick me up?” she says.
“Sure, what time is good for you? I need to stop at home and clean up first.”
“Seven, if that works for you?”
“Seven’s perfect.”
I try not to sound over anxious.
“All I need to know now Jake is what you have planned for the evening.”
“I was thinking about a place that is rather unique and different.”
“Unique and different, sounds like I should dress to kill.”
* * *
It’s Quantico on line two, an Agent Wellington from B-S-U, Agent Scott,” the secretary said.
Mika reached for the black phone on her temporary desk.
“Thanks, Becky.”
“Not familiar with “B-S-U,” Fairchild said.
He shrugged at Mika and whispered.
“BSU––Bullshit University?”
She grinned and whispered back.
“Behavioral Science Unit.”
She got a smile and a nod back.
“What have you got for me Wellington, it had better be good. I’m drowning in the dead sea of clues here.”
She pressed speakerphone.
“Agent Scott, we added all of the new data, including our latest gentleman, to the stew and the CIAP matrix has formulated a few answers.”
Wellington tried to sound highly technical and official.
Ed looked lost. He asked for a definition again.
“What the hell is the CIAP matrix?”
She waved it off as unimportant. With a sensual tone, she spoke into the phone.
“Give it to me.”
Agent Wellington had harbored that very thought on many occasions. He and Mika were new hire classmates, and he had a serious crush on her ever since. Although he never expressed his deep feelings, he was always the first to volunteer if she needed help. Mika, aware of his puppy love, took every opportunity to use double-entendres and suggestive phrases to tease him to death. He loved it. He worked harder at the job when she did. He kept up his hopes of getting into her pants. In Mika’s mind, she classified it as legitimate sexual harassment role reversal. Wellington took a breath and passed on his findings.
“Our victims are all powerful men––a politician, a priest, well you know the list. The only other authority figure he has not targeted so far would be a law enforcement officer. I cross-checked the victim’s phone numbers, there’s no connections between the victims.”
“I’d categorize him as organized. The fact that he leaves nothing behind supports that.”
“Very definitely, he doesn’t appear to have any other agenda, except for the authority angle. He’s not motivated by thrill, or lust, fame, social change, or religion. There is no robbery, or blackmail. He is, as you said, very good at killing and covering up his tracks. One thing is for sure. He knows who he wants dead.”
The frustrated Wellington pictured the two of them alone on an island. He would be Kirk Douglas, and she would be what’s-her-name, the actress. Snapping back to reality, Wellington continued. He kept talking only to prolong contact with Mika.
“This one, while out of control so to speak, is definitely a control freak. Our killer wants to punish. Maybe it was something those dead guys had done to him personally, or what they represented. I don’t believe it has to do with his sexual orientation. Whatever it is, he is highly intelligent, very careful, and extremely detailed.”
“I agree.”
Fairchild yelled a question at Wellington from across the desk.
“What about timing? Is there anything in your computer that makes the timing stand out––dates, time of day, holidays, things of that nature?”
“I’m sorry, who is speaking?”
Wellington sounded annoyed. He thought they were having a private conversation. Someone was in his space with Mika.
“That would be Edward P. Fairchild, Chief of Detectives, Homicide. He’s on our side, Wellington.”
She emphasized “our” to make him feel as if they shared some special connection. She loved harassing the man.
“Sorry Captain Fairchild, I’m just being careful, it’s my job you know.”
Ed could care less about Wellington’s feelings, and his tone clearly conveyed impatience with Wellington’s arrogance.
“And the answer is?”
“The exact hours varied, but all of the murders occurred late in the day. The methods were the same. The victims were drugged, bound, sliced and diced, with the male genitalia left behind as either a statement, or a warning. There wasn’t any sexual intimacy during, or after each attack.”
Mika wondered if Wellington was turned on using explicit sexual references. In the back of her mind, she always believed it was possible, had he not been in the Bureau, he may very well have been on the Bureau’s most wanted list for sexual predators. Then again, he could rise to the top spot in the Bureau like J. Edgar Hoover did.
“He’s smart. That’s not to say Einstein smart, but he’s street smart, cop smart, worldly. He’s probably read a few basic psychology books in addition to knowing the law.”
The agent started to predict and hypothesize.
“I’d say it’s just a matter of time before he makes a mistake, or loses it all together. The rational mind will come back, and be devastated by what he’s done.”
“Are you reading from the Wellington crime fighting manual now?” Fairchild said.
His question was harsh. Since he began in law enforcement, he had serious issues with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. To him, they were overrated, bumbling prima donnas. He only dropped his dislike temporarily, since his protégé arrived.
Mika, interested only in solving the crimes, noted the male testosterone building and interrupted both of them.
“Do you have anything else for me, Agent Wellington?”
Wellington inquired as to when she would be returning to Quantico. He added everyone there missed her. He wanted to say he missed her. He didn’t care much for their long-distance relationship.
“Probably not for awhile, I don’t have a specific time. Our perpetrator pretty much will decide when I’ll return if your theory is correct. In any case, I’ve got a lot of work to do here.”
Knowing her answer was a setback for Wellington, she left him with a well-placed, optimistic tease.
“When I do get back, we’ll have to compa
re notes.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Agent Scott.”
“Later.”
Mika clicked off the speaker. She looked at Fairchild for a reaction.
“Are all male FBI agents as horny as he is?”
“Sit Wellington, now beg Wellington,” she said.
They both laughed. It felt good to laugh again, even if it was at Wellington’s expense.
“You really enjoy this forensic profiling, don’t you? You like digging into people’s heads and trying to figure out why they do it. Me, I don’t really care why, I just want to know who, so they can be locked up and off the streets.”
Mika watched Ed walk around and sit on the edge of the desk. Fairchild was definitely old school. He was certain the way of things worked, how it was done. Mika shifted, and leaned back in her chair.
“I don’t know, I like it, love it actually, but at the same time, it frightens me. Sometimes I think it will overpower me. It wouldn’t take much to fall into its clutches by default. One minute I’m stopping crime and the next falling over the edge with it. Do you think that’s weird, Ed?”
His eyebrows slid together over the creases in his face.
“Serious?”
“Ed, profiling is just another way to get to the same conclusion. You use facts to see how. I use them to see why. In the end, we just want the bad guy.”
Ed looked deep into her lovely eyes.
“I’m going to be watching you closer now. Not because you’re a beautiful woman, which is why I watched you closely all these years, now I’m going to watch so you don’t go over the edge.”
She stood and pointed an accusing finger at him.
“And I always thought you were like a father to me. To think that you’re a pervert like the rest of the boys! There goes my last hope for mankind.”
She looped her arm through his and they walked out of the office smiling.
“God, I miss this place.”
“Come back,” he said.
* * *
As I jump the last two steps of her front porch, a pleasant tingle of apprehension runs up my spine. It fades when she opens the front door. I feel lightheaded, dizzy and almost giddy. Lori is stunning. Always detecting, I make mental notes of her every feature, hair, makeup, breasts exposed by a drooping blouse, a platinum necklace, and a golden, silk Oriental skirt. Her cerulean eyes sparkle, and her smile invites. I wonder what it would be like to kiss her. I give her my best Jake Roberts smile.
After the Evil – A Jake Roberts Novel (Book 1) Page 9
