ISO

  his sister picked up bodily, kicking and screaming, impaled upon the quivering stake of the conqueror. Silence had been Khieu's master then because death had been hovering everywhere around him. To call attention to himself in any way, was to bring down the wrath of the black bird, the Khmer Rouge. He felt their force against his skin like a pressure, smelled their power like a spice clogging his nostrils. It was the scent of hysteria, a conglomerate of the stench of oiled weapons and enforced fear.

  Khieu blinked, turned away from the mass of blood and bones on the kitchen floor at his feet. It was all right, his task had been completed here - almost. There were things to smash, small items to be taken with him.

  He went into the living room, saw the hearth with its Mercer tile floor. Above it he saw the wooden Buddha and, immediately, got down on his knees on the tiles.

  Buddham saranam gacchdmi, Dhammam saranam gacchdmi, Sangham saranam gacchdmi, he prayed. 'I go to the Buddha for refuge.' And, recalling his catechism, he went on: 'Happy are they who do not hate. Let us live happily then, free from hatred among those who hate. Happy are the pure. They are as the bright gods who live on happiness.'

  He was peaceful, floating, suffused with harmoniousness, attuned to the eternal pulse of the universe. And, at that moment, with his eyes closed against the blood on his hands, he did not even yearn for the joys of heaven, understanding that, as he had been taught as a child, only in overcoming all his desires and inclinations, would he achieve true happiness.

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  BOOK TWO

  The Call Up

  July, Present Bucks County/New York City I Washington

  Moira. They did not want to let him see her. He supposed they didn't think he could take it, lose his breakfast all over their spotless floor. But Tracy had taken a lot more than one death. He had been witness to grisly, inhuman incidents that would have given these cops nightmares.

  So why did he hesitate to pick up the cloth sheet and look?

  The ME looked pointedly at his watch. 'Look,' he said, 'I've got to be in court in twenty minutes.'

  Chief Lanfield turned his head. 'It's just down the road, Hank,' he said quietly. 'Take you all of five minutes to get to town. Give the young man his time. He's got a right to look; and you've got a duty to be here.'

  The ME shot his cuff, shut his mouth. It was Lanfield who had called Tracy with the news of Moira's death. Lanfield was the Chief of Police for Solebury Township and it was to his office Tracy had first come.

  'It's like nothing I've ever seen before,' Lanfield had said. He waited until Martha, the one matron in his complement of five patrolmen, poured them both some coffee.

  'But then I haven't had cause to see much since I've been here.' He stirred his coffee while adding Cremora.

  'Solebury's a quiet place for the most part.' He licked the coffee off the spoon, put it aside. He had had the good grace to come around from behind the metal desk when Tracy had come "i. They sat facing each other on a pair of old spindleback wooden chairs.

  Hell,' Lanfield said, 'the last homicide we had here was "even years ago and that one was a suicide. I've been here that Ion8 and I know.'

  His blue eyes watched Tracy carefully. He was a tall man with

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  a lined leathery face and straight brown hair brushed neatly bacl behind his ears. He was talking now because he didn't knov what else to do. This kind of thing was out of his ken and h^ thanked God for that; he had seen the body or what was left of it. He marked the stony face on Tracy and thought he'd better

  get on with it.

  Lanfield cleared his throat and cursed himself. No one shou] ,

  have to hear this, he thought.

  'The reason we didn't call you right away, Mr Richter, is th, we thought we'd do an ID first. We had her wallet, of course, but it contained no photographs. We used dental records.' The Chief's eyes slipped away from Tracy's.

  'Dental records?' Tracy echoed. He leaned forward. 'Those

  are only used when '

  Lanfield's face was pained. 'You couldn't identify her, Mr Richter. Her own mother wouldn't be able to do that.'

  Tracy was on the edge of his seat. 'What happened to her? All you told me over the phone was that she had been murdered,'

  'At that time there seemed no reason to '

  'Tell me.'

  Lar.field blinked, steeling himself. 'I resist telling you only for your own good, Mr Richter.' He saw the look on Tracy's face, gave in. 'But, on the other hand, you have a right to know.' He took a deep breath, let it out all at once.

  'She was beaten to death, Mr Richter. But a beating like I've never come across before.' He shook his head. 'It was an evil thing, an unbelievable thing that was done to her. Even her face;

  especially her face.'

  Tracy felt numb with the unreality of it. 'How bad was it?'

  'The ME says he thinks every bone in her body was broken.

  Some three or four times. Her face is unrecognizable, like I said.'

  He put his palms on his thighs, rubbed them back and forth

  against the cotton fabric. It was a quiet Saturday in Solebury,

  this far from the tourist bloat of New Hope. He could hear

  Martha typing in a room down the hall. Ed was on the phone

  with Bill Shirley again. The beer drinking that son of his dw

  was slowly getting him into deep trouble. Upstairs there'd be

  little enough to occupy those manning the Township Hall.

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  But down here m his office, the atmosphere had turned ghostly

  'I want to see her,' Tracy said abruptly He startled Lanfield

  'Now listen here, son '

  'Please arrange it,' Tracy said, getting up

  Lanfield sighed, went over to his desk, slipped off a blank sheet of paper, handed it to Tracy along with a ballpoint pen 'And while I'm doing that, I'd appreciate it if you'd give me a statement about where you were the night of the murder '

  'I was with someone,' Tracy said

  Lanfield nodded He put a hand on Tracy's shoulder, squeezed it 'It's just a formality '

  Tracy leaned forward now, down the basement of Doylestown Hospital, a new and beautiful complex of buildings out m the countryside that had no business being used for disease and death

  'Why don't I do that for you, son,' Lanfield said softly and drew back the coroner's shroud

  Tracy thought he knew what to expect but he was wrong What confronted him now froze him down to his bones And Lanfield had been right, there was absolutely nothing to connect this pitiful pile of broken bones and rent flesh with the human being who had once been Moira Monserrat Whoever had done this to her had managed to reduce her to a thing, no more than the substance of an inexplicable nightmare

  He heard her voice in his ear, / can't thank you enough for letting me stay here 'Thank you, Chief,' he said hoarsely He'd had enough

  'Just a moment I'd like to take a look '

  They all turned to see the large figure of Detective Sergeant Thwaite standing in the open doorway

  'What the hell're you doing here'' Tracy said angrily

  Thwaite ignored him, shouldered his way into the small room, peering down at the half-draped slab

  I m afraid that was my doing, son,' Chief Lanfield said, 'ooking uncertainly from one to the other 'Miss Monserrat's name was not unknown to me I'd read the papers Last night, a ter I called you, I notified the commander of the 2yth Precinct,

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  her assuming it was her - district precinct.' He nodded in the detective's direction. 'They put me in touch with Detective Sergeant Thwaite here.'

  'That was unfortunate ' Tracy moved away from the crowd around Moira's broken body. Thwaite caught up to him in the

  parking lot.

  'Hold on a minute, Johnny-boy.' Thwaite reached out , hand, grabbed Tracy's arm. 'You're not gonna get away with running away from this any more.' His face was red with ange and he seemed to be trembling with a tightly-withheld force 'You've got some mighty important things to answer for ' He pointed. 'We both saw what the hell was left of a human being back there.' His eyes blazed 'Meat for the butcher, Johnny-boy And we both know why. You're such a fucking hard case, you thought you could do it all: stonewall me and take care of the Monserrat woman and the Governor's death Well, from where I stand, you've messed all over the lot.

  'I was just about to get my machine together when I learn you've had the body cremated, then you come along and hang me out to dry with my dick in the wind '

  Something happened to Tracy. Thwaite took an involuntary step backward. It was as if he had been hit by a physical force He stared hard into Tracy's fierce countenance; opened his mouth but could find no words. He felt as if he had been hurled into a vacuum, his lungs collapsed Still, he struggled to regain his equilibrium, staggering a little but coming towards Tracy

  again

  'What d'you want me to say?' Tracy's voice shivered Thwaite's spine, bringing out a line of sweat. 'Confess all my

  sins to you''

  Thwaite opened and closed his mouth twice 'Yes,' he finally managed to croak. 'If that'll get us anywhere, that's just what you're gonna haveta do ' The effort cost him and his face went

  pale.

  Tracy knew what he was doing, at least up to a point, though he was aware that he should not be using kiai so indiscriminately as a venting of his own inner anger and guilt. But he could not help himself He knew Thwaite was right. Moira's death was

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  ijjs own responsibility Inwardly, he berated himself for not ,nterrogating her about the feeling that had overcome her at the moment of John's death Rationally, he knew she had still been n tne verge of hystena and would have had nothing more to tell him Perhaps His rage against Thwaite was anger at himself turned outward

  'What's this John Holmgren crusade you're on, Thwaite' yhat the hell could he possibly mean to you' He was just another politician, tight' And we know how you feel about politicians, don't we '

  Tracy came closer 'What the hell d'you care if John Holmgren died making love to Moira Monserrat1'

  'What''

  'They were in love,' Tracy went on, ignoring the other, there was too much steam to blow off now 'There was nothing sordid or dirty about it But d'you believe for an instant that all the good John was able to achieve would've been remembered if that was brought out''

  'Wait a mm -'

  'Not on your life ' Tracy shook his head 'The press would've had a field day They would've dragged his name through the mud, and what a legacy that would be, Thwaite, for the man who was responsible for the budding re-emergence of the State Public Education process, reforms for the elderly, the massive slum clearances in Albany, Buffalo and the South Bronx through luring big business back to the State

  'What's your seeking after the petty vices of one man - this holy quest of yours - in the face of all that '

  But Thwaite's face had changed completely 'My God,' he said, 'there's more to it than that I don't give a fuck who the Governor was banging, Johnny-boy I leave that to the scumbags at Vice You telling me now that all this setup I was feeling around in was to cover up Holmgren's affair with his assistant''

  'Why else would I do it''

  Thwaite leaned in closer 'But the Monserrat woman has been Murdered, Johnny-boy And not just by some wmo breaking '"d entering to rip off a coupla bucks Whoever took her down new what he was doing and did it in very premeditated

  159

  fashion. That tells me she knew something she wasn't supposed to know.' He stared hard at Tracy. 'There's one very smart and very dangerous monkey out there and if you know anything about it, you'd better spill it all out now.'

  He saw the look on Tracy's face and shook his head. 'Don't matter a shit if you pull that thing on me again. I'll just get up off the ground and keep on coming. Think about that, Johnnyboy, while the sight of that busted-up thing in there's still fresh in your mind, 'cause she's the one who's screaming now .. .just as loud as she can. We got to find the fucker did that to her. Wo got to find him fast because by Christ he's a nasty one. I don know what seeing what he could do did to you but it sure scare i

  the shit outta me.'

  Tracy began to see just what kind of a situation he was m He had been so wrapped up in protecting John's reputation that he had in a very concrete way, aided his friend's killer. And Thwaite had a right to be afraid. Moira's killing was like the atrocities he had witnessed in the jungles of Southeast Asia Whoever had done it was special, of that he was certain.

  He looked at Thwaite and a sudden thought came unbidden: Here stood a man he could trust far more than Kim.

  'I can't get Moira out of my mind,' he said softly. 'Something she said the night John died.'

  'You mean murdered.' Tracy nodded and Thwaite shook himself a little as if throwing off the last of the effects of the

  kidi.

  'Moira told me that she had felt a kind of... well, presence,

  for want of a better word, at the moment of John's death.'

  'Is that the word she used: presence?'

  Tracy nodded. 'Yes.'

  'She couldn't be clearer? Did you ask her?'

  'Yes, but you saw the state she was in that night. She's ...was an extremely bright woman. She was highly emotional especially where John was concerned. Being there when he died . He shook his head. 'It tore her apart.'

  Thwaite stared at him. 'I know what you're thinking,' Tracy said. 'I spoke to her several times by phone afterwards; Shed be coherent for several sentences then completely break down

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  again Under those circumstances, I didn't think she'd be of any help Now I'm sorry I didn't press her '

  Thwaite did not comment on that He looked at Tracy 'There's more, isn't there''

  Tracy took a deep breath He was about to betray a confidence he had with Kim Well, to hell with Kim 'I used to work for a, well, let's call them a security network I left them rather abruptly I'd become fed up with that way of life ' He shifted a bit, Thwaite said nothing 'Recently a field executive I once knew his name is Kim approached me He told me they wanted me back, at least temporarily When I said no, he told me it concerned John Holmgren Together, we went back to the brownstone and I had a look around ' He dug in his pocket, produced the handkerchief-swathed bug 'What I found, very cleverly secreted inside the pear at the bottom of the brandy bottle on the coffee table, was this An electronic listening device '

  Thwaite looked down as Tracy carefully unwrapped the tiny package Both were careful not to say a word until the thing had been put away again

  'Christ,' Thwaite whispered 'What the hell's going on here''

  'I wish I knew '

  'Okay, listen You'd better give me that thing I'll have the lab go over it and '

  But Tracy was already shaking his head 'That's not the way Think about it Officially, you're off the case I'm sorry that happened but now there's nothing either of us can do about it Besides, whoever put this thing in the pear is a real.cutie I seriously doubt whether your lab boys have seen anything like this, whereas I've got access to an expert '

  The parking lot was baking in the afternoon sun Reflections spun like slivers of glass off the roofs and hoods of the cars The two men stood very close but the antagonism that had marked their earlier relationship had disappeared

  'From here on in,' Tracy said, 'we just have to trust each other I don't think we have a choice '

  Thwaite thrust his hands into his trousers pockets He looked Past Tracy, towards the undulating carpet of the horizon Be-

  B.H.-P I6l

  cause there was a great deal of emotion behind it, his voice was

  a growl when he spoke.

  'The truth is important to me on this, Richter. Very important. One day you wake up after twenty years and realize you've been living in shit all that time. You wonder how the fuck you ever managed to do it. And then you know it's gotta end, that you've gotta end it. I mean, these days I look at myself in the mirror and I don't know who I am any more. Is this the same sonuvabitch who's learned how to shake down pimps and numbers runners all over the city I ask myself.'

  His head turned and his eyes focused on Tracy. 'What I'm tryin' to say is, I know you got a personal stake in this. I want you to know now, so do I.'

  'The fact,' Atherton Gottschalk said, 'that we have increased our Army's manpower by twenty-five thousand over the figure generally given for our 1981 levels should not make us - any one of us - feel in the least bit secure.' He turned his head this way and that, his piercing gaze singling out people throughout the audience of AFL-CIO officers so that their attention would

  not wander.

  'These are perilous times we live in and we should have a firm understanding of the fact that the level of armed forces our former Chiefs of State felt were adequate to protect this country was in reality quite the reverse. We have found them to be inadequate to meet today's greatly expanded needs.

  'For, more than ever now, we are a global power, with a global power's responsibilities. The expansion of our Rapid Deployment Force in times of emergencies in the Persian Gulf is essential to our present as well as our future welfare. This nation runs on energy and that means, by and large, oil- foreign oil - whether we wish to acknowledge it or not. And those critics who do not clearly see our responsibility to the safekeeping of stability in those oil producing areas of the world are of no more use than the ostrich who sticks his head in the sand. Problems will not disappear merely because of our failure to

  acknowledge them!'

  Gottschalk paused while the tide of applause washed over

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  him It was a good feeling, especially so since this AFL-CIO was traditionally a hard sell

  He took a sip of iced water and continued 'By 1987, the Army must be able to field a force of at least 900,000 That is the bottom line But, I might add, this does not include the RDF or my own plan for an elite anti-terrorist unit to handle emergencies that might arise within the borders of the United States

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