Chapter Seven
The next morning we all slept in until eight. It was sad to think that I considered that sleeping in but had it not been for the flights and everything, we probably would have been up around six. I was happy to find that the hotel had a breakfast buffet and made short work of two large plates of food. With everything I’d heard about how French people eat, they probably thought I was disgusting. I had barely eaten anything the previous day, something about airplane food didn’t agree with me, and so seeing piles of eggs and bacon on my plate made my appetite triple.
Chen and Kara, as if there were any doubts, ate a reasonable meal. God forbid they go even slightly overboard. As much as I could appreciate people who were that disciplined when it came to food and exercise, I always thought they were missing out. Of course, when I had a heart attack at fifty from all the bacon they wouldn’t be the ones missing out.
Eddie ate a lot as well, but it was nothing but a huge amount of scrambled eggs doused in salt and pepper. I was a fan as well, but bacon was the true breakfast food.
We finished our meal and made our way out of the hotel and onto the Quai Charles de Gaulle to begin our short walk to INTERPOL headquarters. The road ran along the Rhône, the famous river that ran through France and Switzerland, which curved to the south as it cut through the heart of Lyon towards the Mediterranean Sea. Headquarters was just a short walk south and with the view to keep us occupied, it seemed like we had just left when we walked up to the front of the almost entirely glass building.
Above the entrance hung the logo and the word INTERPOL, a welcoming sight even if the building was fenced in. The logo consisted of a globe with olive branches on either side, a sword running through the globe and the scales of justice beneath it. It was a perfect representation of the agency’s global calling for peace, action and justice.
We were expected so it didn’t take long to get through the gate and into the building. The receptionist took our names and within a minute we were greeted by a formidable woman in a well-fitted skirt and suit jacket combo. She was an Asian woman, likely in her early fifties. She wore her long black hair down, was slender and, from what I could tell, quite toned, and without her heels couldn’t have stood more than five-and-a-half feet tall.
What made her so formidable was the way she walked. She moved like she owned the place, which it turned out was more or less true, but in a way that commanded respect and not fear. The looks on the faces of the employees showed that she was a strong person, someone who deserved their respect for the simple reason that she had earned it. Then there were her eyes; they showed confidence as she walked, and honesty as she looked upon her staff.
“Esther Cho,” she said as she introduced herself to me. Her handshake was firm yet gentle, the eye contact sincere. She introduced herself to Kara, Chen and Eddie in turn before directing us to follow her back toward her office.
We sat down; the soft leather of the chairs cushioned me better than I would have expected. “Secretary-General Dumas will be back in tomorrow, he had another conference to attend. I am the President of the organization and will be your liaison until then, and in Jean-Pierre’s absence.”
Her English was perfect, but there was a hint of an accent I couldn’t quite place. Australian? Although we were in the French office of INTERPOL, it was the international headquarters and I could only assume that I would encounter a wide array of accents, many of which I would have difficulty placing.
“Detective Munroe, you will lead the entirety of the team. Both your members and my agents will ultimately answer to you. I have directed one of my agents to be in charge of the others, although your direction will supersede theirs. They will act in your absence and where it is not feasible to contact you for direction prior to acting.”
It made sense. If things were to hit the proverbial fan, I needed someone to make the call instead of waiting for my word. Actions often depended upon split-second decisions, decisions that could mean life or death. I wanted people I could trust, but I needed people I could count on.
Sometimes the right decision meant going against an order. I had never been much of one for orders though… perhaps ‘direction’ would be a better word.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions. We will get to that. First, know that all of our resources are yours to use. All field offices and all agents have been briefed as to your secondment with our organization and they have been directed to assist you as if you were one of our members. In fact, you are.”
She opened a drawer in her desk and removed an envelope. The envelope was sealed with a string that wrapped around two small posts. She opened it and emptied its contents on to her desk. Passports, four of them.
“Your organization provided the photographs and biometric data we required. It appears that the pictures were all up to date. These are INTERPOL passports and will work in more than half of our member countries. With these you can bypass customs with little more than cursory checks, and being armed will not present an issue to you unless the country has laws against it. The countries which do not recognize these passports will require you to carry your Canadian documents with you as well.”
I opened the passport and flipped through the thick pages. If there was a licence to kill tucked within the pages, I couldn’t find it. And I was still waiting for my silenced PPK, gadget watch, fancy tuxedo and tricked-out Aston Martin as well. I was certain that those items were on the way; probably just being customized.
“We have received requests for assistance from Côte d’Ivoire, Lesotho, Finland and Japan. Due to issues such as the location of the body and manpower they have yet to excavate the sites indicated in the e-mails they received. There are only a couple of other sites that have not been excavated at this time, but I have been assured they will be in short order. Some of the locations are quite remote.”
So there was some traveling to be done. I was fine with that. Each place sounded interesting, even if I knew I wouldn’t have time for sightseeing. We wouldn’t be able to all go to each location; it would take too long. Japan was mine, I had always wanted to go there. And then there was Côte d’Ivoire. Just the way that Cho had said it made it sound so exotic. She had obviously lived in France for some time – her pronunciation was flawless.
“I hope you all had enough time to catch up on any lost sleep, as we have flights booked for tonight. I have two sets of tickets here, one for Côte d’Ivoire and Lesotho, the other for Finland and Japan.” She took another envelope out of her desk drawer and slid it to me. “Lincoln, I’ll leave you in charge of deciding who goes where. Now, questions?”
Eddie was the first to speak. “You talked about us being armed. Do I get a gun?”
“No. Sorry. I didn’t think that was something I needed to make clear. Your organization said that you are a civilian forensic analyst and not trained in firearms.”
“Not professionally, but…”
“We cannot allow it. You will always be with armed detectives or agents should you be required in the field. Most of your time will likely be spent in here, as we could use someone with your talents in order to try to trace the suspect’s phone calls and e-mails.”
I couldn’t believe I had forgotten to report it. “He called again last night, actually. Chen and Kara were there. I didn’t report it to anyone else as I assumed it would be from the same number as before. Also, I question whether putting an end to the phone calls is a good thing. Remaining connected with Crawford may be our best way of getting to him.”
Cho didn’t look thrilled. “Should you get another phone call, let me or Jean-Pierre know about it. We need to have our team working on tracing the call if we want to find him. At the moment, only the OPP are working on that avenue; and with you here,” she said, her eyes on Eddie, “I don’t believe they would be making much progress.”
Eddie looked taken aback. “
Umm, thank you,” he said.
“Your reputation is what got you here, that and Lincoln’s recommendation. I was given a look at your file. Top of your class, full honours, numerous awards and scholarships. You could’ve worked anywhere you wanted. Why the OPP?”
Eddie wasn’t prepared for this. I could tell by the way he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair that he was uncomfortable, he was protecting himself. These were things he had wanted to keep private.
“As lame and cliché as it’ll probably sound, I wanted to use my powers for good. One of my classmates hacked the C.I.A. website. I knew I could go the same route, and I didn’t want to. Figured I’d do something good with everything I’d learned. Figured it would keep me straight.”
Cho nodded. Maybe the answer was lame and cliché, but it was enough to satisfy her. I found myself nodding as he spoke and noticed similar assertions from Chen and Kara. Cho wasn’t the only one satisfied.
“Also, I have been informed that Ms. Şentürk will be meeting a team in Helsinki. The Japanese have made a request for an anthropologist.”
I nodded.
“Lincoln,” Cho said, her gaze fixed on me. Her eye contact was a symbol of her strength and confidence, even if I did find the intensity of it a little unnerving. “It won’t take long for the media to find out that you’re working for us. Once they do, they’ll dredge up every detail of your past. Are you prepared for that?”
Nothing new. “I am.”
“Good. Don’t feel that you need to answer any questions. Should the need arise, we will release an official statement.”
I nodded.
“Detective Chen, what are your thoughts on the ritual elements of the murders?”
Chen took a moment before he spoke. “It’s his own ritual based in some form of religious belief, but of his own making. It doesn’t match up to any known murderers or rituals. The main thing is that it is important to him, to the point of having to follow it exactly. Every murder must happen in the same way, every burial the same as well.”
“Does it tell us anything about him?”
“He believes in some sort of higher power, that there is some form of order in the universe. His method of killing his victims, if it ends up being consistent, is a stab wound to the abdomen. Paired with wrapping the body in linen and the cross carved into the skull, it’s seems to tie into Christianity. The stab wound may be mimicking the wound suffered by Christ during his Crucifixion.”
“But the crosses carved into the skull are upside-down. How does that fit in?” Cho had her brow furrowed, looking intently upon Chen.
“It could be his way of marking them as non-Christian, or at least not a follower of what he believes in. Like the scarlet letter. Something that they must ‘wear’ for the rest of their days that shows that they were heathen and unworthy. We don’t know much about the victims yet though, so this could be wrong.
“Also, another thing we don’t know is what other elements of his killings are ritualized. He may have certain criteria for selecting his victims, or even a specific way in which he abducts them and prepares them for death. We’ll know more once we have all of the information in.”
Cho nodded then looked around at each of us.
“Any other questions?”
Not a word was spoken. I shook my head.
“Okay. Here are the flight plans, tickets, boarding passes and anything else you require. You will also find dossiers detailing the locations and known details of each case. Determine who goes where and let my receptionist know. Lincoln, Kara and Vincenzo, once that is done go to the armory. They’ll get you your sidearms.”
Vincenzo. It had probably been years since anyone called Chen that. I had to bring it up.
“Hey, Vincenzo,” I said once we were far enough from Cho’s office.
“Shut it, Link.”
“When was the last time you heard that?”
“Just from my parents. Even Julie doesn’t call me that… still ‘Vinny’ from her.”
Chen had gone by Vinny when I met him at police college years ago. Once I realized there was a “Chen” in “Vincenzo”, I dubbed him Chen-Chen. It stuck with him beyond college and back to the Ottawa area where he had been hired to work. Only his wife and parents called him anything else; the rest of us would choose between one Chen and two depending on the situation.
“Let’s just go get our guns.”
“We need to figure out who goes where. Eddie, hate to say it, but I’m not sure this is your line of work.”
“As long as I have a laptop and a connection, I can work from anywhere. Would love to get some time in the field.”
I wasn’t sure it was the best idea, but he was right. His work could go with him. And if we needed him for something, it would be easier to have him close by.
“Alright. I think you both know where I’m going.”
Kara and Chen looked at each other, then spoke in unison. “Japan.”
“Right, so Finland falls to me as well.”
“Okay, now to determine the teams,” Chen said. “The way I see it, you and Kara have seen two of these burial sites already. We should probably split you two up to spread the experience.”
I nodded. “Makes sense. Kara and Chen, you two take Africa.”
They both nodded. “Sounds good,” Kara said. “Where are those tickets? Be nice to know how long until we leave.”
I dug the tickets out of the envelope and handed them out. Eddie and I were scheduled to fly from Lyon to Helsinki just after eleven that night. Kara and Chen were connecting to Paris before leaving for Johannesburg, South Africa. From there, they would have to drive into Lesotho.
“You two be careful,” I said. “Johannesburg is still one of the worst cities in the world for crime.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine, Lincoln.” Kara never wanted to hear anyone worrying about her; even after nearly being the victim of serial killer.
They wouldn’t be landing far from the INTERPOL office anyway. It was just a short trip north to the nearby city of Pretoria, one of the nation’s three capitals. Pretoria was the executive capital and considered to be the primary capital of the nation; Cape Town was the legislative capital; and judicial aspects fell to the city of Bloemfontein.
From Pretoria they would head south to Lesotho, a small country completely within South Africa. Only two other countries in the world were completely landlocked by a single country: the Italian enclaves of San Marino and Vatican City.
Eddie and I would liaise with agents at the INTERPOL office in Helsinki, and meet up with Najat, before making our way to the burial site. I pulled the dossier out of the envelope and looked at the details. From Helsinki we would travel north to the island of - I was going to have a hard time in Finland – Judinsalo. That one I hoped was pronounced as it looked. It was the next part that I was more concerned with: the island of Judinsalo in Lake Päijänne. I had seen umlauts over the letter ‘e’ before, but never over an ‘a’. With any luck, there would be an agent fluent in English who could translate. I didn’t think a phrasebook would be enough for me to get by.
Once we were done in Finland, we would fly from Helsinki to Tokyo then take another flight west to the south island of Kyushu. From there… it would’ve been nice for Cho to have explained this to me. We were heading to Japan because there were two sites, and by the looks of the GPS coordinates and marks on the printed maps, they were extremely close to one another.
I leafed through the other pages. They were crudely translated missing persons reports, probably pages that had been fed through some internet translation program. The gist was there, but they were a bit difficult to read. From the reports a man and a woman with no known connections to each other went missing on the same day. Japan wasn’t the only country to have more than one k
illing, but it was the only one I knew of with two killings that had occurred at, for all intents and purposes, the same time.
Something had changed in Japan, something had made Crawford behave differently. Our job was to figure out what that was.
I stopped off at the receptionist and let her know who would be traveling where.
“Merci, I will call to the airports now.” The plane tickets were open, something I wasn’t used to, but that probably had to do with the fact that they had been booked by INTERPOL. It wouldn’t take long before the young girl with the thick French accent had all of our names attached to the tickets.
Our next stop was the armory. While we went to get our sidearms, Eddie went to check out where he would be spending much of his time. When we arrived in the armory, it was obvious that we had been expected.
“Detectives Munroe, Jameson and Chen,” a man said from behind a locked cage. “I’ve been expecting the three of you.” He was an older man, probably in his mid-sixties, slightly overweight with a youthful look to his face in spite of his age. Between that and the thick glasses, he reminded me of a clean-shaven Santa. A French, clean-shaven Santa, that is; although with less of an accent than the receptionist.
“I hope we live up to your expectations,” I said, a smile on my face.
“If you don’t, these will.” He slid three cases toward the small hole in the cage. “Never fired a P226 before, not until today.” He pointed back at a silhouette target he had pinned up on the wall. For a man with such thick lenses, he sure as hell could shoot.
“Nicely done,” I said. “So these aren’t standard issue here?”
“Not at all. I had to fight with Cho to get her to allow this. She wanted you to use what all of the other agents use. I said that was ridiculous, you should use whatever you are comfortable with.”
“You have a point. I’ve used one of these for over a decade. There’s no way I’d be able to erase all that muscle memory. Thanks for fighting for us…”
Death By Degrees Page 6
